Lack of Communication Creates Surge of Desperation

I began posting at 14 Feb 2012. My first review ever posted happened on 20 September 2013, nineteen months later. It was mine. I wrote: “test”.

i.e. “Doesn’t this damn thing work???”

doesnt this damn thing work


Five days later my angel waltzed in. The first person to ever say anything in nineteen months. Helena, who arrived in May of that year after I’d been there the two Februarys before her. How long did it take her to get reviews for her work? A few months, perhaps sooner.

this is pretty good

Little did I know my audience was large the entire time. I checked my email regularly and would have been notified had anyone bothered to repeat a damn line or post a review. They’d been reading and laughing for all of that time and not expressing it. I do not believe such things are right, do you?

What I’d built in well over a year and researched heavily Helena enjoyed with gusto and speed. It’s likely how people listen to the podcast. One hour of their time for over one month of my hard work and effort in revising the script, audio, acting, sound effects and music when it comes to Episode 12. When it was only text, which is difficult enough, her arrival boosted my ability. I’d been coming home from work with a bottle of wine to perform audio episodes before posting them in text by this time. Helena read the old Episode 12 and wondered if I was alright after all the crying and screaming. Did anyone wonder this time around?

The beginning of the end or the end of the beginning?

It was October 2013, a time of many tragedies or so I’ve heard from various sources. Mine was coming close. I had to bring Willie Loomis back into the fold and I’d already begun the demo recordings and more character channeling of various fandoms including the abused inhabitants of Collinwood. I’d been listening to audios of old DS episodes on my long walks to work or to the bus.

The kidnapping has to be dealt with. This isn’t a farce like I kept shooting for and missing. The new components merely allowed everyone to be more open and honest but it was their own humour that was coming out of me, and the more I listened to the demos, the more I made the recordings, the better the voices became and for the first time in my life I could no longer hear it was me. It was them. They were working together, they were taking over.

Creepy? Spooky? Altogether ‘Ooky?

I also kept listening to the DS audios of original airings, unraveling old pieces, listening to their own voices. Willie was shot by the police how many times? Poor Willie! And that happened because he was trying to warn Maggie? That’s right. Wait… why didn’t they deal with that when he came back? Well Mr. Loomis, you’re coming back now and we’re dealing with that shit, that’s for sure and certain! No Adam around to spit chicken at for you. You’ve been at Wyndcliff longer, long enough for a lady there to take a fancy to you. And this new butler sets things strait where he’s employed. You’re going to have a confrontation about that pain.


It became the one scene in the fun and harmonious 14th Episode of The Pit… that scared me. Barnabas saw his chance for happiness by the time Willie came back home again to confront him about those bullets, and when it came to me looking from my old simple tablet to read what I had in the recliner, the answer came to me, I stood up to alter it in the word file… and got the chills and creeps. (And I’m not telling what happened in that foyer here.)

And then acting it? Living it? Knowing the confusion and the consternation. How could he change like that?

How is this not more than writing?

“The visual pathway is not a one-way street. Higher areas of the brain can also send visual input back to neurons in lower areas of the visual cortex… As humans, we have the ability to see with the mind’s eye – to have a perceptual experience in the absence of visual input. For example, PET scans have shown that when subjects, seated in a room, imagine they are at their front door starting to walk either to the left or right, activation begins in the visual association cortex, the parietal cortex, and the prefrontal cortex – all higher cognitive processing centers of the brain.”

Or so says “A User’s Guide To The Brain” by John J. Ratey on the topic of a concept known as “The Mind’s Eye”.

Channeling conducts these visuals to enact what my adopted children are experiencing. Or in Japanese, the kokoro: “heart; mind; mentality; emotions; feelings.” What I had to put Willie Loomis through and go through as him hurt. Then when Wadsworth explained to him the base facts of what he couldn’t come to terms with: “Can anything be accomplished by a single individual all alone?”

And thus he speaks the truth in my story. A long and nerve wracking road put into place several years ago which brought a madness into my life in October of 2013. Sounds like a crazy time on it’s own doesn’t it? A time when the veil is thinning, and a number of bewitching servitude. Perhaps blessings and curses go hand in hand. As this butler interrupted the story-line of “Dark Shadows”, many polite demons came along for the ride.

But even then, the stat numbers, the readers, climbed for weeks and said nothing, laughed at nothing I could hear, were touched by nothing I could find. “Why were they doing this to me?” I continued to ask, and I asked them. Was it too true? Was it too thought provoking? Was it laziness? Couldn’t they see the hurt in my words as I asked, begged, wondered. And finally posted ephemeral rants and philosophical explanations, or question as to why this entire internet universe had fallen to a decay in communication over hard work made not just for free, but for so much money and effort on my end.

I couldn’t live with that pain or that silence. So I gave it back. I copied everything, stored it away, picked chunks of the text to leave behind to keep evidence I’d been there and the statistics of what had happened that only one enjoyer would discuss. And then I started the podcast, revised, re-performed and went through the whole of what I had of this neglected Pit of Ultimate Dark Shadows all over again. I seek out help: Magical Irish Dolphin, Mad Margaret, Osheen Nevoy, other writers, other creators, Josette Dupres-Barnabas’ One True Love page on facebook first and foremost with withered results as of now, even fan letters to cast members, something I could never believe I’d do.

Now? A bigger audience, an audio audience, text to more fandoms and more websites, extraordinary help from John Mountain to get the word out, a facebook page, a tumblr page, a wordpress account, my email address visible for all to see, a Skype account, a google account, 500 postcards scattered on the East Coast, West Coast, various spots in between, more fandoms contacted, more facebook groups, specific pairings videos on youtube, art pages… It’s gotten to the point when I LOOK on google for images of these many, many characters I’m finding my own websites, my own areas, my own transfiguration of melding these many worlds into one.

Squeaks of sympathy start eking out and then turning to halting results. Everyone who loves it are afraid of me because that madness in silence exploded. But what shall more silence do? This is in sound now. Turn it down, turn it off, but it isn’t just text anymore. This is the hardest endeavour I have ever created. Thousands of downloads, hundreds of people, all spreading the word and looking for others to communicate with me about the episodes. Who can she find to speak up? I can’t express my own enjoyment or insight. But why?

As all of my listeners, including friends and family, tune in, they drop out of speaking and seem to shift their eyes about for who… whoWHO will be the crowd to finally speak up and communicate with Daryl Wor about her hard work, at last, so perhaps, they shan’t need to?

I leave these lyrics as my question and answer to all of this:


    Don’t tell me you can’t tell what’s wrong from right
that it’s alright, that I can sleep at night
don’t tell me you can sell me peace of mind
don’t look behind, ’cause I can see the signs
read between your lines

it’s outta control, but there’s a way
for us to change, it’s not too late
we need to show, there is a way
to bring our world a brand new day

we know in times like this
if it’s a hit or miss
we still can’t walk away
we’ve got to turn around
don’t be afraid to sound
all that we need to say
to bring a brand new day

it’s outta control, but there’s a way
for us to change, it’s not too late
we need to show, there is a way
to bring our world a brand new day

it’s outta control, but there’s a way
for us to change, it’s not too late
we need to show, there is a way
to bring our world a brand new day

we know in times like this
if it’s a hit or miss
we still can’t walk away
to bring a brand new day

Simon Collins- “Eco”



3 thoughts on “Lack of Communication Creates Surge of Desperation

  1. “Doesn’t this damn thing work???” I will admit that I thought that the “test” message was from the site at first until I started reading and follwing the story. I understand your frustration, and I’m glad that I did check out “Pit.” It’s unique from the normal DS fanfics, has humor, and is an interesting take on what would happen if all of the storylines were resolved (I.e. Vicki’s search for her heritage). That’s why I’ll keep following until the end 😉

  2. morlock13 says:

    Then I’m glad I did it. Your arrival showed me there was a lot more that needed to be fixed than Collinsport! Dang! This internet thing is such a pesky way to find one’s people! And seriously, I could not know half of the things of what was up at that site because the computer we were using previously was a molasses slow piece of metallic funk.

    When we got the new one I was advised I only needed so many gigabytes of RAM/Memory so I said, “Okay, so that means get TWICE as much as what was advised.” If I could get the highest I sure would.

    Truly, I had no idea that surge was in me until you stepped in and started our friendship. I was at just writing one episode a month and when you showed up FOUR spewed out of me. Too bad I found out I’d been getting hosed the whole time. Then I get in touch with even more writers and found out, “What? We’re ALL getting hosed?” Me more than anyone else considering, but still…

    Thanks for sticking by me, Helena. If the applause ever comes in there ought to be some appreciation for all you’ve done too. 🙂

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s