#keep in mind dave is not used to being forgiven for mistakes and he NEVER got an 'im sorry' from derek
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
Text
Title: The Calm Is Terrifying When The Storm Is All You Know [Homestuck]
Chapter 17: Sorry
Summary: There were two kinds of trolls who went to Earth: rich shitheads with too much money and free time, and desperate assholes who couldn’t survive on Alternia, even with the best efforts of the young Condesce. Karkat hated the planet almost immediately, but with his home planet too dangerous for mutants, he really didn’t have any choice but to hide out on this weird little diurnal planet. At least he’d be safe. Or so he thought, right before blundering his way into an accidental friendship with the son of an anti-troll terrorist.
Rating: M
Chapter Warnings: Mentioned/implied abuse, brief description of gross healing wound stuff; Illustrated
FIRST | PREVIOUS | NEXT
“It was, um. I, uh. Fuck. Br-I mean, B-fuck, Dad —“
“Easy, kid, Jesus,” Terezi said, cutting Dave off. “I told you, I’m gonna do everything I can to make sure you’re not in too much trouble with this. You did the right thing by being honest, and as long as you keep being honest just a bit longer, I’ll do everything I can to make sure you’re not held at fault for this, okay? Just keep calm and try again. Start at the beginning. When did this start?”
“Uh.” Dave fidgeted in his chair. They were in one of the guest rooms (the one Karkat was staying in, most likely, judging by the lack of color scenting the air; Terezi would have questioned Dave in his own room, but suspected that he would be uncomfortable having a cop in the only space he really had any privacy), away from the ongoing hassle downstairs so that Terezi could get as close to the full story as possible. Terezi was recording the audio of the exchange for evidence later - she’d planned on video footage, but the camera had seemed to make Dave nervous, so, audio it was. Dave continued, “Do you mean, like. ‘This’ as in everything, or ‘this’ as in what went down tonight?”
Terezi sighed. “Ideally, the sooner you tell us everything you know about Strider, the better,” she explained. “The more we know about him, the better we’ll be able to protect you and a whole bunch of other people from him, and as a bonus, having some really concrete shit on the guy would get my fucking superiors to maybe take me seriously about giving your family a proper God damned protection detail, but I’m not keeping my hopes up. So if it’s all you’re willing to say, then just tonight’s details will do fine, but more is appreciated.”
Dave gulped audibly and shifted again.
“Okay,” Terezi said, “Let’s start with this, then. You knew about this plan ahead of time. That’s not a question, I don’t need you to confirm it, you had to know or else you wouldn’t have been able to give us an exact time and a close estimate on how many people were coming. What I do want to know is, how? How did this get planned, and how were you made aware of it?”
“…Um,” Dave gulped. “Supposing I, uh. Didn’t exactly follow all the rules one time, would…”
“As long as you’re honest, I’ll forgive it,” Terezi said. “Call it a warning if you want. Repeat infractions would be a bad idea, but right now it’s more important that you tell me what happened.”
“I, uh.” Dave took a deep breath before answering. “Two months ago, back in June, he, uh, Dad, he sent T—sent one of his guys up. He waited out in the forest and signaled me to come out with a flashlight.”
“And you went out to him?”
“Sorry,” Dave said, pulling back.
“It’s fine. Don’t do it again. What happened? Why didn’t that guy just take you away?”
“He, uh. He said…It’s. D-dad’s kinda paranoid, you know? And I’ve heard him and…uh, I’ve heard him talking with…I’ve heard him talk about how if he wanted to be ambitious enough to take things across state lines, they’d have to be really careful about it. His face is everywhere, n’ all.” Dave paused. Terezi could hear his breathing pick up. Poor kid was terrified to share even this much, no wonder he’d sat on the knowledge of this plan for so long. “And he’d come up with a way of doing it, involving setting up, uh, a whole lot of people in a sort of…chain? So that he could regularly switch cars and sorta smuggle himself across state lines without getting caught, so that no one car or truck or whatever would be identified as having him in it just in case he did get seen in one. And, uh, the guy he sent said that, uh, since I got caught by the police, they’d have to do the same thing, but in reverse, and that it’d take a while to set everything up.”
“Makes sense, I suppose. Fuck, if he ever does try to take things out of Texas, he’s really gonna be a pain in the ass to track.” Terezi pinched the bridge of her nose momentarily. “Alright. So did you meet with this guy multiple times to keep up on how things were going, or…?”
“No,” Dave said. “I mean, if something changed, he woulda come back, I think, but. He just told me the date and time and to come out to the same spot he met me. Said we’d do it at four in the morning cuz people are really deep asleep just before dawn, or something, so it’d be easier for me to sneak out.”
“Right.” Terezi tapped her finger against her knee. “So. Next question. Did he mention anything about a car accident in all this?”
“What?”
Terezi scowled. “There was a massive car wreck on the intersection leading into the only road down to your house. Big mess of a thing. Investigations into it suggest foul play, as if the timing didn’t already make me suspicious. It kept the police from getting down to your house in time, and it’s likely that if you hadn’t told Dirk when you did, it would’ve taken them even longer to clear the road. Did he mention anything about that being part of the plan?”
Dave was quiet for a long moment. Eventually, he said, “No, but…he probably wouldn’t have told me that bit, anyway. Sounds like the kinda thing the old man woulda done.”
“Why?” Terezi said. “Why assume you’re going to talk and plan ahead?”
“I dunno if he thought I was gonna talk,” Dave said, “so much as he probably just figured I was gonna fuck something up. He, uh, tends to make any plans where I’m involved under the assumption I’ll screw it up somehow. ’S why he sent so many people, too, I’d guess.” He fidgeted again. “He’s not exactly wrong, either. I’m kinda useless at a lot of this shit.”
“Only thing you did wrong this time is waiting so long to tell us,” Terezi said. “Well, that and going outside to meet some asshole in the woods. But you did tell us, at least.”
“Sorry.”
“Look, Dave,” Terezi said, weary to her very bones, “All I’m asking is that if any of this shit happens again, just…tell us right away, alright? If you want to stay here, you can, as long as you want. Indefinitely. But the only way I can really protect you is if you tell me this shit is happening. If the guy comes back with a flashlight again, tell Dirk or your mom so that they can call me or the local police. He tries to contact you some other way, your reaction should be the same. That’s all I’m asking.”
“Sorry.”
Kanaya stood before the reflecting panel of the ablutionblock, her hair still gently dripping as she carefully wrapped the long strip of gauze in her hands around her middle. The wound wasn’t…bleeding anymore, exactly, but it was rather unpleasantly oozing a bit, and Kanaya didn’t want to stain any more of her clothing than was strictly necessary. The wash had been a long one; she’d cleaned most of the blood off of her skin (and, alright, maybe licked up just a little bit more of it) with a fair amount of ease, but getting it out of her hair was a nightmare consuming an hour’s worth of her time, during which she kept finding more spots on her skin, horns, and claws that had somehow missed the initial run-through. She was very glad to no longer feel sticky.
Still a little hungry, but that could be dealt with later. Probably. Did she even need to drink blood, she wondered, or was it optional? Was this going to be a constant urge permanently? Troubling thoughts, to be sure. She’d have to do a bit of research, see if she could find any other actual rainbow drinkers. There were always rumors of them, enough that believing they existed back on Alternia was more reasonable than not believing in them, but Kanaya had certainly never actually met one, to her knowledge.
Slipping the nightgown she’d selected (and had Rose carry, to avoid sullying the garment with her then-bloody hands), she checked herself over in the mirror. She really was very brightly glowing, now. Good grief, that would certainly be awkward to explain to people, not to mention making it difficult for her to avoid attention if the need for such ever arose. Maybe there was a way to turn it off?
(At the very least, she was grateful she could see herself in the reflecting panel, unlike Earth’s version of rainbow drinkers. Why the creatures apparently did not show up on reflecting surfaces, Kanaya wasn’t sure, but it must make dressing properly quite the extra hassle.)
Hm. Perhaps the nightgown had been the wrong choice of outfit, too. Everyone else in the hive was pushing toward getting some rest, after the long night, but Kanaya still felt…charged. Full of energy and ready for anything. It was likely a side effect of the whole…suddenly-becoming-a-rainbow-drinker thing. Which. Hopefully there would not be too many of.
For all the allure of rainbow drinker lore, some of the side effects some stories spoke of were…worrying. They were creatures of a great deal of myth and obscurity, and Kanaya had no clue how much of the variable quirks and such of the beings in her books would apply to her new reality. She really didn’t want to go feral again. A repeat experience of biting people who did not agree to it would be…undesirable.
Again, she worried about whether this desire for blood was just a biological urge with no major consequences to ignoring, or if she actually needed it to survive. Ugh. This was going to be tricky to deal with, either way. She’d already noticed an increased awareness of the pulsing of everyone around her’s cardiovascular systems, right down to little Jaspers (who she had NO intention of harming, good grief, that was a purely monstrous thought even in passing).
She stepped out of the ablution block and nearly bumped into Dave, who made a very concerted effort to leap right through the ceiling at her sudden appearance. Terezi, looking thoroughly exhausted, pushed past the both of them and headed downstairs, but Kanaya called out for Dave as he turned to head into his own room.
“Wait,” she said, “If I could speak to you for a moment?”
He froze, his pulse hammering out a quick staccato beat, then turned slowly, a mumbled “Sure” on his lips.
Kanaya tried to smile as nonthreateningly as possible. “Well, I would like to apologize first for startling you as I did a moment ago, but, more importantly I wanted to thank you.”
“I…what?”
“I mean,” Kanaya said, “You may not have done the best thing you could have, all things considered, but it seems like you know that, and in any case I’m sure Terezi and any number of the others have already given you plenty of talk about the whole issue of your confession’s timing and so on.” Dave nodded wordlessly. “Right, well,” Kanaya continued, “It may not have been the best decision you could have made when looking at however long an opportunity you had to tell us, but at the point in time in which you did, it was certainly the best of the options still available to you. I mean, your only other choices would have been to either go with those men or try to hide here and tell us nothing, and with no time to prepare at all there’s every chance that we all would have gotten hurt.”
“Somene did get hurt,” Dave said, cautious. “You got hurt. You being okay now doesn’t change that. I still fucked up.”
“You made a mistake, yes,” Kanaya said. “That’s pretty undeniable, all things considered, but it’s not the point I’m trying to make…Urgh, I’m babbling again, aren’t I. Okay, what I’m trying to say here is that you did the best you could under the circumstances, and more importantly, I can see that this was not an easy thing for you to do. It was very brave of you to tell us the truth at all, even if the timing wasn’t fantastic, and it’s for that that I want to offer you my thanks.”
“…You’re not mad?” Dave said.
“Not at all,” said Kanaya. “You did the right thing. Thank you.”
“…Sure,” he mumbled.
“That’s all I really wanted to say, honestly,” Kanaya said.
Dave nodded, mumbled something Kanaya didn’t catch, and hurried back to his room.
After her own round of questioning from Terezi, Kanaya, unable to sleep, ultimately ended up quietly sketching out some clothing designs for Porrim for the next several hours, perched on the couch across from where Karkat lay still in the midst of his impromptu nap until about midmorning. The rest of the house was still sleeping at that point, leaving the trolls alone to what was, from Kanaya’s perspective, a surprisingly (yet also quite touching) heartfelt reunion. Karkat had all but sprang up from the couch and thrown his arms around her, tears running damp tracks down his face, as he swore that if she ever died again he would personally piss on her grave. It was followed by a very sniffly declaration, as he pulled away and tried in vain to wipe his ganderbulbs and scent sponge, that if she ever told anyone about this, he’d set all of her “stupid trashy rainbow drinker books” ablaze. She’d responded with a threat to tell Dave all about that pale crush that Karkat totally didn’t have, and after a few more minutes of cursory bickering, Karkat had settled down enough that tears were at least no longer being spilled, and she filled him in on what had happened both outside and in the time since he’d fainted.
Dirk was the first of the humans awake, and when he came upstairs, he’d asked where Terezi had gone to; Kanaya informed him that she’d gone out to sleep off the long night in the same car she’d arrived in, and that there should be two officers outside the door if he needed something. Apparently satisfied, he’d headed back downstairs.
(Dirk’s pulse always picked up a bit when talking to her; she had no idea if that had always been the case, but she suspected her new status as a being which on Earth was considered pure fantasy probably made him a bit…nervous. Kanaya didn’t find this particularly bothersome, but was more interested in the fact that her new senses certainly made reading the more emotionally distant members of the Lalonde family easier.)
Karkat had decided after this that he wanted to take his own turn in the ablution block, and took his leave. Kanaya was alone for maybe half an hour before Rose came stumbling down the stairs.
They chatted for a bit as Rose woke herself up and made her morning meal. Rose was clearly still shaken by the events of the night before, as Karkat had been, but was doing a better job of keeping herself collected. At least, until she asked if Dave had been up and about. The way her face darkened, the bitterness in her voice as she asked, was…concerning.
“He’s not been out and about yet, not since he was questioned by Terezi, I don’t think. I spoke to him just after that, though,” Kanaya said. “I already thanked him.”
“Thanked him?!” Rose cried out. “For what, getting you hurt?”
“For being honest with us,” Kanaya said. “Rose, I sincerely suspect that no one knows better than he does that he made a mistake in waiting so long to tell us, but he still did the right thing in the end. I understand that it was very difficult for him to do so, and I would like him to continue being honest, so, yes, I thanked him.”
“Well, forgive me if I don’t find his actions particularly praise worthy,” Rose spat.
Kanaya sighed. She did a quick mental take on human relationships before continuing; Rose and Dave were…siblings, she believed the word was, which should mean that Kanaya intervening this time wouldn’t be considered ashen, right? She wasn’t auspitizing, just…keeping the peace. Besides, even if they weren’t siblings, this was hardly anything to be considered black; certainly it wasn’t healthy in either of their species.
“Rose, I understand that you’re angry,” Kanaya started.
“Oh, not you too,” Rose said. “I’m not going to just stop being angry, not when I’m completely justified about it. He put us all in danger! You got hurt, Kanaya! It’s pure luck that no one was permanently killed!”
“Yes, I agree,” Kanaya said. Rose blinked, then narrowed her eyes in confusion, but waited for Kanaya to explain. “You’ve every right to be angry. But I think you ought to consider the consequences of not at least trying to talk things out. I mean, it might be hard, he barely said a word to me when I tried talking to him earlier, which is very unusual for him, from what I’ve seen.”
“Kanaya, you’re getting sidetracked again.”
“Shoot! Right, sorry. What I’m trying to say is,” Kanaya said, “that…you’ve had to work very hard to earn his trust, and you haven’t earned all of it yet — I don’t think any of us has, really, not even Karkat — but. If you keep lashing out at him like you did just now, you’re going to destroy what little of his trust you have earned. You’ll be right back to square one!”
Rose crossed her arms. “So what, I should just pretend he did nothing wrong, act like he’s totally innocent?”
“No, Rose, I’m…all I’m saying is that you should try talking to him. Not like just now, but…with an open mind and a lot of honesty, and…I think it would benefit both of you to talk things out, and for you to maybe consider forgiving him once you’ve done so. You might find that perhaps your anger is…misdirected, and perhaps there is a bit more of it than there should be.”
“Right,” she said, rolling her eyes.
“Please? Just give it a try?”
Rose rolled her eyes, but said, “Oh, alright. If only because you’re the one who got hurt. You’ve more right to be angry than anyone, and if you’re so sure he’s deserving of a second chance, then…I suppose it’s worth a shot.”
“Thank you,” Kanaya said.
Rose planned, originally, on fulfilling her promise to Kanaya to allow Dave to explain himself properly when her brother decided to show his face about the house, but when he had still not shown himself well after noon, it became clear that she was going to have to be the bigger person and initiate this conversation. She’d given him every chance to try and make the first move by that point, to try and show some sign of recognition that he knew he was in the wrong as Kanaya claimed he did, but to know avail. Rose wished she could say she was surprised, but really, this behavior was about par for the course.
At every turn, he’d responded to the various bridges offered by his family by acting as though they were going to set fire to them. He’d been antisocial, reclusive, and distant; the few times he did deign to be a part of the group dissolved at the barest slight; and the one time that they’d managed to have an actual good night, he’d turned it into an absolute disaster. “You’ll lose his trust,” Kanaya had said, but Rose would like to know what exactly Dave had done to earn hers.
And always he’d responded the same way, with no real sign of any emotion reflected in those apathetic shades, his face ever the same blank mask.
So he was when she knocked on his bedroom door, after the usual dragging sound preceding him creaking open the entryway. His hair was messy, and he still wore the same pajamas from the night before, having apparently not bothered to change out of them or clean himself up in any way.
Not that he needed to, since he’d been safely inside the entire time, but whatever.
He held the door open and moved aside, letting her step in. She closed the door behind herself. He stood, motionless, close to a corner by the door, and said not a word.
“Look,” she said, doing what was, in her opinion, an excellent job of keeping calm in the face of ceaseless apathy, “I don’t particularly want to be here any more than you want me here, but Kanaya insists that I need to talk to you about what happened. So let’s talk.”
“‘Kay,” Dave said.
“Let’s talk about how I am apparently the one overreacting when you decided to put us all in danger by putting off telling us about this, there’s a good place to start.”
“Sorry.”
“I don’t want ‘sorry,’ Dave,” she said, trying very hard not to shout. “I want answers! What were you thinking?”
“Sorry.”
“Are you really so miserable here that you wanted to go back? Did you take some sort of sick pleasure in springing anarchy on us on what was previously the first really enjoyable night we’ve had since you got back?!”
“Sorry.”
“Would you stop apologizing!” she snapped.
Dave leaned back slightly with a near unnoticeable jolt. His only other reaction was to mumble several senseless fragments of words, ending with what sounded like another weak, emotionless, “Sorry.”
And still, his face was blank, his mouth still that same thin line, the rest of his face still hidden behind those black, unfeeling, damnable sunglasses. Still he stood, unmoving and unresponsive. Rose felt her blood boil, felt two months’ worth of building frustration at this unending, passive-aggressive war of tedium and spite he insisted on waging, finally erupt in an explosion which devastated the last remaining vestiges of her patience.
With a shouted, “Will you give me a straight fucking answer, for once!” she snatched the blasted sunglasses off of his face —
and saw fear.
He still barely moved, his mouth only slightly open and the rest of him flinching slightly away, one arm coming up to guard his face, only to stop halfway, but his eyes put everything else about him into a sudden perspective. To call him a deer in the headlights would be a great understatement; his look was that of a small child facing death itself, his pupils dilated heavily and the whites of his eyes even more huge. He wasn’t cowering, but he was stiff, Rose realized very suddenly; not unreactive out of apathy, but frozen in sheer terror. Too frightened to run, too frightened to fight back.
“‘m sorry,” Dave mumbled again. Somehow, given the depth of fright in his eyes, the words sounded less infuriating now and more like a desperate begging for mercy, choked out as though past a swollen tongue.
The heat that had built in her seemed to fizzle out in the space of a second.
“What’s —” ‘the matter,’ she’d been planning on asking, but halted after a moment — she’d moved her hand up, intending to reach out to him, touch his shoulder perhaps, but the slightest movement had drawn his terrified eyes to watch her hand, transfixed, in the same moment as his entire body jolted slightly, too stiff to properly flinch.
Testing, she moved her hand to the side, watched how his eyes stayed locked on her every movement. He was bracing himself, it seemed, for some blow which Rose certainly didn’t plan on delivering, yet here he was utterly convinced that it was coming. Yet, he couldn’t run, made no move beyond those slight jerks and a nearly invisible full body tremble, and he certainly made no attempt to fight back.
What did it take, she wondered, to frighten someone this much?
“What the hell did he do to you?” she said aloud, barely a breath of a whisper.
Dave’s eyes narrowed slightly, confusion faintly tinging the terror on his face. “He…who…wha?” he stammered. “I…I don’t…”
Rose took a step back, the sunglasses clutched gently in her hands, her own eyes now trained on the floor. This…this was going to need more thought, but clearly she’d made a lot of assumptions which had proved incorrect. He’d…he’d seemed to always be well enough, she’d assumed that since he showed few of the classic signs of fear that it couldn’t be what led to his behavior, but…
God, he must’ve thought they were going to do something awful to him this whole time.
“Kanaya was right,” she said aloud. “I…misunderstood the situation. I didn’t realize…I hadn’t known I was scaring you so much, Dave, and for that I apologize.”
She never wanted to be the reason he looked this scared again, if she could help it.
“I still stand by that I had every right to be as upset as I was,” she continued. “You put us in a lot of danger, and I’d still like to know why you held off for so long. That being said, you…did eventually try to do the right thing, and…the last thing I want is to scare you into thinking it would be unsafe to do so again.”
“I don’t…” Dave murmured.
“Don’t what?” Rose said, and she must have said it a bit too quickly, because he flinched again. She made an effort to soften her gaze. His eyes were darting, now, almost frantic, his mouth trying to form words before his mind could piece them together.
“I don’t…know,” he said. “I don’t…I.”
“Do you want to be here?”
He nodded, guilt joining the confusion and fear on his features.
“…But you felt you can’t stay,” she guessed. “Is that it? Were you afraid he’d do something awful if you didn’t play along?”
Another nod. His eyes didn’t meet hers again.
“So why tell us, then?”
“…Cuz I was scared again,” he said, a hint of almost Dirk-like self loathing creeping into his voice. “Realized all at once that I’m not ready to go back and panicked.”
“Not ready?” Dave’s face turned further away. His trembling was growing worse. “So you’re still planning on going back, then?”
Dave sighed, and looked back at her, the fear in his eyes now tempered with a very genuine sorrow. “Doesn’t matter what I want, Rose,” he said. “He’s gonna come back for me again.”
What the hell did he do to you, she thought again, the fire once extinguished beginning to burn again. She said nothing, only looked at the black plastic in her hands.
This was…a lot to process. She’d need to think about this more, to be sure. Maybe ask Roxy again for advice, now that she’d been given a new point of view on things.
She held the shades back out to her brother, who hesitated a long moment before taking them back in a shaking hand.
“I’m sorry again for overreacting,” Rose said. “You clearly knew you’d made a mistake, and I ought not have been so excessively cruel to you, no matter how badly I was hurting at the time. I hope you can forgive me. I can, at the very least, say that I’ve forgiven you. It was just a mistake, after all.”
Dave stared at her, blinking, as she turned for the door. He didn’t react until she was already halfway down the hall heading back to her own room.
“Wait,” he called after her, from the now open door. “Wait, is — that’s it?” His eyes were now more confused than anything else, perplexity almost comically stamped across his face.
“That’s it,” Rose said, and walked away.
#dave strider#rose lalonde#kanaya maryam#terezi pyrope#longpost//#fanfic#fanfiction#calmvsstormfic#calmvsstormchapter#katt does a writing#that last scene is one of the scenes that im writing this fic for man#keep in mind dave is not used to being forgiven for mistakes and he NEVER got an 'im sorry' from derek#rose just singlehandedly turned his understanding of the world on its head hes so confused
15 notes
·
View notes
Text
Vicious Listener Comments That Were 100% True
Today I share the story of some pretty harsh criticism I received, and how I had to deal with the fact that my listener had a point. Welcome to episode 639 of the School of Podcasting
Sponsor: Podcastguests.com
3:47
PodcastGuests.com helps you find guests for your podcasts for free PodcastGuests.com will feature your podcast to its over 6,500 users to find qualified guests that meet your requirements You can also find 200 expert guests anytime in the directory at podcastguests.com/directory
Today I'm talking about branding, and I could've invited Greg Corey (Corey says, I love to talk to audiences about how creating better branding for themselves and their products can skyrocket their sales). It took all of three seconds to find Greg, and we know he's looking to get on podcasts.
Sign up at PodcastGuests.com/sop
Fat Fingers Can Cause More Them Embarrassment
5:06
In the last episode, I mentioned that I had brought up a controversial subject (Collin Kaepernick) and that people might tune out (the subject was controlling the conversation).
What is offending is not the episode but rather your poor grasp on basic spelling and grammar throughout many pages on this website.. By the way, if you want to sound like an authority, please learn basic spelling and grammar or hire someone (fiverr) to do it for you.. How do you have an education degree when this is how you write and communicate?
By the way, in the sub-title, “Freedom of Speach is Not Freedom from Consequences”- The word “speach” is spelled Speech. Any sixth grader knows that and certainly a g college graduate should know that as well.. It is not that hard. At least have your written copy proof read by someone who does know how to spell and write decently before publishing it to the world. Geez! I think that is pretty basic..
How again can you confidently charge $200 an hour for consulting when you have such poor spelling and grammar skills in your written web copy? You are a joke sir!
What college granted you a degree when you consistently cannot write legibly? and you are tying to sell yourself as an expert? Please! I will say again.. Please!
At least hire someone to cover your mistakes and not try to promote yourself as some sort of “expert” – You look like a damn fool sir
So I sent Mark Doyle and Email
Dear Mark,
Thanks for the comment. My Apologies for the typos. You're right I'm a damn fool and a joke of a human being...
Dave
Mark Sent Me a Reply
Mr. Jackson
I would like to take a moment and apologize for my comments and harsh criticisms. It was unwarranted and uncalled for and not like me at all to post something like that
Please accept my apologies Best of luck to you sir
Mark Made a Really Good Point in a Really Crappy Way
I hold no ill will toward Mark. Mark may have had a really bad day, and I have forgiven him. He did get me to check into why these typos got through (I was using two spell checkers, and Grammarly does a GREAT job). In a nutshell, I had logged out of Grammarly and it no longer was checking everything I typed.
There is Probably More Than One Way To Fix Your Issue
I had typed my show notes about an hour before I published them. I did this to "flush out" ideas before I pressed record. Then I thought, would this not work a day or two (or a week) in advance so I could come and look at the copy with "Fresh eyes." Yes, this could be done.
Another option would be to type shorter notes. This makes sense to a certain extent. I always want to have at least 300 words. I am currently at 1591.
If I pushed thing back even further than a few days, I could hire someone to look over my posts.
This is not an unsolvable issue. It just means I can't keep doing what I've always been doing.
Your Podcast Is Your Brand
In looking up different items about what makes a good brand, I kept seeing things that I saw that I had dropped the ball on.
Neglecting Public Perception: The public’s perception of your brand might not be the rosiest, but instead of chalking it up to bad luck or pointing fingers, it’s time to get serious about turning that frown upside down. (source).
Another article mentioned this as "Not providing great brand experience." Brand experience is not only about your stuff, but also your website experience and every other touch-point where customers come in contact with your brand. Another article stated, "Many savvy consumers judge credibility by grammar and attention to detail."
Why Branding Matters
The audience might feel:
You value quantity over quality when you get sloppy
You appear irresponsible
You appear uncaring
You think the audience stupid (as they won't notice)
You're not the most intelligent person on the planet.
The Internet Writes in Ink
While many blunders appear on the news and are replaced by tomorrows new headlines, don't plan on everyone's short attention span. Just ask Louis C. K (Sex offender), Chi-Fil-a (homophobic), Uber (employee Harassment), Target, Facebook, and many others (data breach), as well as other companies that have had topics that left a black eye.
It's Just a Podcast
22:15
You may be tempted to think, "It's just a podcast." That kind of talk will keep us in the "Minor Leagues" of content creators.
We end up with a stereotype that sounds a lot like this video or this video where we are all giant nerds.
Building Your Brand
You need to develop a brand strategy, and understand your business objectives and shift focus to that instead of designing a beautiful logo that won’t work. Also, realize your business strategy may be "THIS IS NOT A BUSINESS." With that in mind, you may want to blow off your brand. I would recommend you don't.
When you launch your podcast you are creating your brand. In looking at a TON of articles about branding, here are some things to consider:
22:35
Pat Flynn talks about the Four P's. These are: Places: You want to create your list of places where your target audience exists. This could be online or offline. I like to go to conferences, meetups, and events. My goal is to tell you the eye color of my target audience. It's not just in person, look at what publications they read (those kinds of things).
People: Look at the people in your space who already have a following. You don't do this to rip them off, but to see what is working. You can see what they are covering.
Products: Make a list of all the products and their prices.
Position: After you look at where they are, who they are following, and seeing the products, you can see if there is any place where you can take your unique perspective (where you explain things in a way that immediately obvious or cliche).
I love the quote by Seth Godin, "Don’t find customers for your products, find products for your customers.”
If you haven't read the book "Will it Fly" by Pat Flynn, you should. You can even listen to Pat Read it on Audible (you can get the book for free if you're a new customer) go to www.schoolofpodcasting.com/freebook
You need to research your competitors, look for points of differentiation, then define who you are, who your customers are and how to connect with them
The Podcast Brand Experience
Some 23% of consumers say they would stop using a brand after a bad experience. (source) In that report, they were talking about dealing with rude employees, etc. However, in podcasting what is part of the experience:
Your intro/outro
Your audio quality
Your logo
Your voice (tone, accent)
Your grammar
How quickly you get to your topic
The relevancy of advertisements if you have them
Your volume levels
The quality of your content. Are you boring?
Your show notes (we did a whole episode on do people look at these?)
I'm Worried About This Post
As I write this in October of 2018, people are freaking out about the little things that often don't matter (what font on your artwork, what theme for their website) and while all of that is your brand, if you try to wait until everything is perfect you will NEVER start your podcast. Keep in mind you can change your brand (Dunkin Doughnuts is changing their brand to Dunkin, Starbucks used to have BOOBIES in their logo. BOOBIES!
What I Want You To Take Away
From time to time you may get some negative feedback. Some of it may be constructive, and some it may be cruel. Today my point is, no matter how feedback is provided you need to ask yourself, "Is it true? Do they have a point?" and in the case of Mark Doyle - he did and I thank him for that.
Ideas For Adding Merchandise To Your Podcast
I have an interview with James from Tee Public from the last day of Podcast Movement (hence the lack of voice, and the loud background).
Ideas on how to integrate merchandise with your show
How to sell without being "salesy"
There are more products - not just t-shirts
Now with coverage in the UK
More features coming very soon.
Ready To Start Your Podcast?
Join the School of podcasting and don't just get access to tutorials, but join a community of podcasters who all work together to help each other grow their audience
Join today.
Check out this episode!
0 notes
Text
Divorce: The Church
Taking a brief break from my tale, I wanted to address the church and its contribution to failed marriages. The church, by no means, influenced his or my choices in our marriage. We are responsible for our own actions, 100%. But the church did fail us by repeatedly not offering support at a time when we needed it most. This, unfortunately, seems to be a common problem in churches everywhere and must be changed.
The first time we discovered a problem with receiving help from the church was within our pre-marital counseling. We opted to use a friend of ours along with a relative of mine to conduct the ceremony together. Our friend was in Michigan and in order for his church to give approval of him leading us, we had to find a local pre-marital program to participate in. We found and met with someone immediately. We filled out numerous questions on numerous pages and had numerous discussions. The end result? Our counselor told us we were not compatible. Seriously. He looked at both of us and simply said, “I don’t see how this will work.” As we now can see, he was right in the larger sense. However, at the time, this was anything but helpful because he only told us that we were going to fail, but then he himself failed by not giving us any assistance.
He never told us what we would need to do to be more compatible or how we might choose to compromise, for instance. The reasons he believed we would fail were ones that never really impacted our marriage. Dave thought he might want kids and I thought I didn’t (but neither of us really were set either way). Dave liked more alone time whereas I liked to spend more time together. The only thing the counselor believed we had in common was how we managed our finances…and, as we soon found out, we couldn’t have been more different in that area.
Nevertheless, in his mind, the counselor didn’t see it working out, so he thought it was a waste of his time to offer solutions or advice in setting ourselves up for success. So, he continued to repeat, “this doesn’t look good” each time a new answer appeared. Yet even though he was convinced we weren’t going to have a successful marriage, he offered us no help in getting out of the situation either. We’d set a date, we’d told people, we had purchased things. There are millions of classes and books on planning a wedding, there isn’t a class that tells you how to end one. Obviously. Because once I did realize I wanted out, I wasn’t able to.
The next area of weakness was when we specifically asked our church for help. At one point I emailed my pastor, who was also in our small group, asking for time to meet face to face and get advice on how we could fix our ever-growing problems. I was told this church doesn’t offer that “service” but instead keeps a list of therapists they associate with and can offer as a recommendation. He gave me an office assistant’s number to call where I’d request an emailed list. The list was long and, as mentioned, we worked our way through many to no avail. Come to find out, the list was also compiled of church members who were therapists and needed the clientele or “friends of friends.” No one within the church had actually sought services from these therapists or verified they were in line with the church’s thoughts or beliefs. Instead, it was simply a way to help its members and associates become more lucrative in exchange for recommending the church.
When the therapist approach failed and my ex refused to continue, I emailed another pastor at the church about our situation. I asked if they’d consider offering a couple’s course that dealt with maintaining a marriage. Or, better yet, I asked if there was an older couple who would perhaps lead a couple’s small group, where women met in one room and the men in the other. Then we’d all come together at the end. It would be a support group so everyone could share and bond, while also receiving guidance from a more experienced couple who knew the struggles of marriage and the tips to surviving it. I was told the church had too many things going on right now and they weren’t interested in offering a new class. So I asked if they simply new of an older couple who could meet with us. They said no.
With my marriage quickly going down the tubes, I made one more desperate attempt at this church. I emailed the pastor’s wife whom I’d gotten to know. I told her in great detail what we were struggling with, how we’d tried therapy unsuccessfully, and how I was about to go on the cruise ship, leaving a shaky marriage behind, and desperately needed help. She met with me, was silent most of the time, and then said “I wouldn’t get on the boat.” The same problem as the marriage counselor arose. I’d signed the contract, I was leaving in a few days, and couldn’t change my mind. When I told her this and asked what else I could do, she said she really didn’t know what to tell me other than she’d try to pray for us.
Towards the last year of our marriage, I tried again. At this point we had switched churches, due to the let downs experienced at the other one. Dave no longer was attending as he was deeply hurt and frustrated with how the church was more focused on bringing new members in and not concerned with maintaining the well-being of its current members. So, I went solo and even joined a small group. When I asked for prayer in my marriage, the small group leader suggested I talk to the pastor. He assured me the pastor always had time for personal calls from members and was passionate about helping marriages. Sure enough, the pastor called me later that week. He listened attentively to my story and even asked thoughtful questions. At this point, I’d returned from the boat where my affair had occurred, information I’d shared with the pastor. I was remorseful, paying my penance at home, and ready to do whatever it took to make things rights. He then told me adultery is one of the most serious of offences, the church would not support such behavior, and biblically Dave had every right to leave me. If he chose to do so, the church would support him fully (even though I was the one attending and he wasn’t) and I would face the consequences of my actions. If he chose to “keep” me, the church would still support him fully but remind him he could always change his mind later. If he chose to stay my husband, the pastor reminded me how grateful I should be and that I should never forget.
Listen, I knew I’d made a mistake and was sorry. But the God I knew and loved, the one I was still serving, told me I was forgiven. Yet the church who claimed to serve the same God was ready to cast me out. Despite it all, it was the same message I’d been hearing for years from my father, my husband, and now the church: you’re not worthy of our love.
I did a lot wrong in our marriage but the one thing I never failed at was asking for help. My bookcases were stacked with marital books, both Christian and non. I saw therapists with my husband and also went alone. And I always asked for help at church from the people who said they were there to guide me.
In my opinion, the church is failing marriages. Churches love claiming they accept everyone. They love singing their praises on visiting jails, building homes for the less privileged, offering rehab programs for those struggling with addiction, and raising money for members who’ve lost their jobs. I even went to a church where one member of the congregation had murdered his wife. They proudly said they support both families and the criminal himself. Good for them-they should stand by all of the above and more. Yet when it comes to marital problems, they don’t want to hear it. They are too ready and willing to pass troubled couples off to paid therapists, wiping their hands clean of the matter. Even if they do offer classes, they charge a lot of money for it-money many people can’t afford. They profit off of those willing to ask for help when those services should be free or minimal in expense. When the class is over, if you still have issues, well then…pay and take the class again.
Over 50% of marriages end in divorce. The 50% that remain married are often extremely unhappy. Why then isn’t the church jumping on this chance to offer assistance? To serve their congregation. Churches wonder why they are losing members. Perhaps it is because when people are hurting and in need of guidance, they feel abandoned or chastised. The church judges you for getting a divorce but doesn’t want to help you from ending up in that outcome. The church as an institution whose main goal is to live like Christ seems to be doing the opposite of asking “what would Jesus do?” Because, the Jesus I know doesn’t want marriages to end and would spend many unpaid hours guiding two of His children back into the sacred institution He created just for them.
#divinelydivorced#veganlife#nevergiveup#startingover#losingasister#trytryagain#chicagogal#singleinchicago#chicagosingle#divorce#divorcedchristianvegan#triplewhammy#youdeservebetter#change#christianfail#thechurchiswrong#Jesuslove
0 notes