Personal Reflection: Winter is honest about the cost of things. The cold exposes cracks, the dark lengthens shadows, and even the light arrives at angles that reveal what’s usually hidden. This line drops into that landscape with quiet gravity. Becoming yourself isn’t a clean story or an easy arc. It’s a series of choices no one else fully sees — the losses, the risks, the private battles that never made it into conversation. The world may admire who you are now, but it rarely understands the price you paid to get here.
Because becoming yourself isn’t a single transformation — it’s a slow burn that demands pieces of your former life as fuel. You lose people who preferred the older versions of you. You outgrow dreams you once swore were permanent. You dismantle comforts that kept you small because growth demanded more space than they allowed. And beneath all that change is a truth most people never consider: evolution is expensive.
Not financially — emotionally.
It takes courage to stand in the wreckage of who you were and still decide to keep moving. It takes clarity to recognize when something familiar has turned into something harmful. And it takes a quiet, relentless kind of strength to admit that becoming yourself means disappointing the expectations others built around your past.
The cost isn’t always visible — but the ache is.
Maybe the point isn’t to be understood — not fully. Maybe the point is to honor the price you paid. To acknowledge the private courage it took to shed your old life and stand in the sharper air of who you are now. Becoming yourself is not about being admired — it’s about being true, even when truth carries weight.
And if the world never knows the cost?
That doesn’t diminish the value. It means you carried something heavy far enough to step into your own name — and that is enough.
Reflective Prompt: What part of your becoming has been misunderstood or unseen by others?
Some days there’s no revelation waiting for you. No clarity. No second wind. Just the simple, unglamorous choice to keep moving in the direction you said mattered. The world keeps insisting everything should come wrapped in a pretty bow — clean lines, smooth edges, no proof of the struggle it took to get there. But look at any real artisan. Their world is chaos until the work is done. Sawdust choking the air, paint bleeding onto the floor, bruised knuckles, tools scattered like a crime scene. Creation is never tidy. It’s loud. It’s stubborn. It demands a piece of you. And the outcome only becomes breathtaking because you walked through the mess and didn’t flinch.
We love to romanticize perseverance — the comeback story, the clean arc, the triumphant soundtrack. But most real fighting looks nothing like that. It’s waking up already exhausted. It’s dragging old fears behind you like unwilling dogs, snarling and snapping with every step. It’s pushing forward even when the only thing you’re sure of is the ache settling somewhere between your ribs and your resolve. And buried underneath it all is the truth you don’t say out loud: stopping feels too close to disappearing. And you’ve disappeared enough times already.
Maybe that’s the lesson today. You don’t have to feel brave to keep going. You don’t need inspiration or momentum or some sudden rush of conviction. You just keep moving. Step by stubborn step. Breath by stubborn breath. And somewhere in that slow crawl forward, you realize the fight was never about winning — it was about refusing to vanish from your own life. That quiet persistence becomes its own kind of craft. Its own kind of art.
Reflective Prompt
Where are you still fighting, even quietly, even without applause?
I’ll be honest—I almost forgot about July for Kings. Not because they weren’t good (they were damn good), but because the early 2000s alt-rock scene was a crowded highway of hopefuls with radio-friendly grit. Between your Trapt and Trustcompany, Staind and Saliva, it was easy to miss the ones who weren’t screaming at you, but whispering, singing, aching.
July for Kings never blew the doors off the house—they lit a candle in the corner and let you sit with it.
Originally from Middletown, Ohio, July for Kings (formerly known as “Vice”) emerged with the kind of sincerity that was rare for the post-grunge era. Signed to MCA Records, they released their major-label debut, Swim, in 2002, produced by Blumpy (of Nine Inch Nails and Filter fame). Fronted by Joe Hedges, the band didn’t chase chart-topping bangers—they aimed for emotional resonance. They didn’t want the room to jump. They wanted the quiet ones in the back to feel something.
Tucked quietly in the back half of Swim, “Without Wings” is the kind of track you don’t fully appreciate until life slaps you around a bit. It’s not flashy. It’s not trying to be your anthem. But if you’ve ever sat in the middle of a storm you didn’t ask for—emotional, mental, or otherwise—this song knows you.
The intro is soft, a little echoey, almost ambient. Joe’s voice doesn’t come in with bravado. It comes in like someone who’s been quiet for a while and finally found the courage to speak. The lyrics?
“I fell too far, and the ground was hard… I tried to fly without wings.”
That line hits different when you’ve lived a little. When you’ve pushed too far, too fast—maybe to prove something, maybe just to feel alive—and came crashing back down. The song doesn’t judge you for it. It meets you there. It sits with you.
And that’s what makes this track so potent. Where some bands explode into their pain, July for Kings simmers. The tension builds, but it never becomes melodrama. The guitar doesn’t wait; it mourns. The drums don’t march—they pulse like a heartbeat just trying to steady itself again. It’s a reminder that not everything profound has to be loud. Sometimes the real stuff whispers.
Here’s the thing: If I’d gone with my first instinct— “meh, I don’t remember these guys, probably not worth digging into”—I would’ve missed this. Again. And that right there is the sneaky brilliance of music and life: the good stuff often lives just beneath the noise.
It’s easy to dismiss a band because they didn’t make the charts. Or skip a track because it isn’t on the playlist someone curated for you. But if you stay open—if you listen like you’re still learning, you start to find little truths tucked in the folds of forgotten records.
“Without Wings” is one of those truths. And maybe, just maybe, there’s a parallel there: how many people, ideas, places, or moments have we passed over because we didn’t give them the time to speak?
Music, like life, rewards the patient and the curious. Stay open. You never know what you might find.
If “Without Wings” landed with you, don’t stop there. July for Kings may have only brushed against the mainstream, but their catalog’s got depth for days.
Notable Singles:
“Normal Life” – Their biggest track, a soaring anthem about finding peace in the chaos.
“Believe” – Big chorus, emotional and earnest.
“Girlfriend” – Punchy and raw, with early-2000s radio rock bite.
Deep Cuts to Dig Into:
“Bed of Ashes” – Brooding and intense, this one simmers with frustration and loss.
“Meteor Flower” – A dreamier, more poetic track with subtle power.
“Float Away” (Nostalgia) – A post-major-label track soaked in melancholy and reflection.
“Blue Eyes” (Nostalgia) – Warm and haunted, one of their best slow-burners.
Without Wings doesn’t beg for your attention. It offers you something deeper: a mirror. A moment. A quiet confession that maybe… just maybe, we’ve all tried to fly before we were ready.
So, here’s your reminder: Don’t sleep on the deep cuts. Don’t skip the last few tracks. And don’t be so quick to write something-or someone—off.
You never know. It might be the song that helps you heal.
If my editor knew I was responding to this post, I can envision her holding her breath, hoping I didn’t dive right into a full-on uncensored rant about book adaptations. Lord knows, she has endured more than her share over the years. Partly, I can’t seem to understand the cuts or changes they make. It’s like they never actually read the book, not to mention understood the author’s message. Breathe, Mangus, breathe!
1…2…3…4 … 5..0…7…6 [exhales sharply]
Screenwriting was a part of my training as a cinematographer. So, in theory, I understand the necessity of removing portions of the book as long as it doesn’t sacrifice the story. If it can’t be filmed, then it needs to be cut from the script, was the rule of thumb in class. So, I get it. However, there are still times when things just don’t make sense.
In graduate school, we task to adapt a novel into a full length motion picture. Finally, my chance to show these folks how it’s done. I was determined to get this right.
My determined look
Let me explain screenwriting first. This explanation is simple overview, but you get the point. For every page of script, equals one minute of film. Put simply, 2 and half hour movie is a 150 page script. What? Write an 150 pages? That’s nothing! [scoffs].
So, I sat at my desk and pumped myself up with all the necessary bravado one would need on any given occasion.
“I got this!”
“I’ve written all kinds of stuff, please!”
and so on! This is about the time my brothers would look at me, shaking their heads, and uttering in unison, “Jackass!” I often wondered if they were in a barbershop quartet in previous life. The dissonance of their voices blends together harmoniously. Despite their chiding, I would look continue to display “my determined look,” I will not bow to adversity!
My determined look – 6 months later
Yes, my hair grew out and I rearranged my office, but I was still determined to write the masterpiece. A friend called and needed a favor, so I packed my gear and went and shot a short film, then a commercial, and then another short film. Then the pandemic arrived and the world changed. I never finished my masterpiece. Incidentally, I was adapting Ellison’s Invisible Man, which if adapted uncut would equal a 9 1/2 film. Yeah, I was definitely what my brother’s called me for tackling such a major work of literature on my first stab at full length screenplay. There’s a good reason its never been done before. However, I did learn something.
For motion pictures, novellas, short stories, and stuff work great. It is much easier to say closer to the book. Examples, of this working on well areShawshank Redemption, Inventing the Abbotts, and Stand by Me.Each of these examples were based on shorter fiction. Two of these films are considered classics.
For novels, it’s better to adapt them for television, if sticking close to the source material is a goal. You have the time to tell a more complete story. In other words, you can put some meat on those bones. However, you have to keep in my mind, if you can’t film it, cut it.
Last thing about screenplays. Screenplays, are basically the movie written on paper. It’s the blueprint to the entire project. The cuts, fades in and out, and those things you think about while you are watching a movie are written in the screenplay. Yes, adjustments will be made, but the screenplay is where it all starts.
Now to the question:
Above, I answered the question from the point of view of a writer. Now I will talk to you as a fan. I was fan long before I ever thought about making movies or writing them. As a fan, I chose TV. Over time and throughout the years, they have done a better job with the adaptations. With the improvement of production quality of television programming, further solidifies my opinion.
Some of my favorite adaptations for television are Bosch, Justified, Dublin Murders, and Lincoln Rhyme: The Hunt for Bone Collector. With Bosch we really get to see who Harry Bosch is as a person. The script has made changes, but Michael Connelly has hand in the show so the character integrity is present. Justified is a adaption of Elmore Leonard’s short story “Fire In The Hole.” However, there are several Raylan Givens novels that pulled elements from for the series. Timothy Olyphant’s portrayal of Raylen Givens is excellent. He brings to the screen that you couldn’t write.
In the Bone Collector (TV series), we really for the first time were introduced to the Lincoln Rhyme of the Jeffrey Deaver series. Lincoln Rhyme is a brilliant, exetremely difficult man with tremendous chip on his shoulder. To say, he was bitter about his circumstances is a understatement. We get a hint of Lincoln’s character in the Denzel protrayal, but it shows through in the series with Russell Hornby protraying Lincoln Rhyme.
Most important of about the Bone Collector (TV Series), this is the first time Amelia Sachs appears in a live action role. Now, in the feature film, Angelina Jolie, protrays a character based on Amelia Sachs, whose first name was Amelia, but she wasn’t Amelia Sachs from the books. Arielle Kebbel protrays Amelia Sachs in the series. We witness Sachs battling her own demons while developing a relationship with Rhyme. She challenges him. This is the Amelia Sachs from the novels.
Typically, when comes to film adaptations, we got two categories:
“Oh my god that was horrible! The book is so much better!”
“Can you believe they did that? That’s not in the book!”
The majority of the film adaptation I’ve seen into these categories. I’m a huge Shawshank Redemption fan. I was a fan of the movie, before I knew it was an adaptation. I found it was based on a Stephen King novella, immediately I was turned off. Have you seen some of film adaptations of Stephen King’s stuff? I’m not talking about the recent adaptations or reboots. There were horrible. I’ve read several King books before seeing this film and enjoyed them. However, for some reason, King fell out of favor with me until I read his book about writing. Single malt scotch rained from the heavens, and all was right in the world again. I was back to being a fan.
So, I read Rita Haywood and the Shawshank Redemption, one of four novellas in Different Seasons collection. I fell in love with the movie even more. They did an amazing job with this adaptation. The casting of Morgan Freeman was a stroke of genius. I saw the picture above online somewhere and had to write something about what I could describe as my favorite movie. 30 years can you believe it!
A few decades ago, I got tired of watching the same old holiday movies each year. I started ranting about it, because I’m a bit of a ranter. So, my late wife would roll her eyes and tell me to put in “Home Alone.” I mumbled under my breath and did what she asked.
The following year, I bought a used TV and set up an area in the basement. I dug out an old VCR and made a few tapes with my favorite movies. So, about a week before Christmas, I went to the basement and started my marathon. Over the years, I added and subtracted movies I always wanted to keep the list small.
Here is the current list:
Die Hard (1988)
Kiss Kiss Bang Bang (2005)
Reindeer Games (2000)
Diner (1982)
The Ref (1994)
Wrong Turn at Tahoe (2009)
This Christmas (2007)
The Simple Life of Noah Dearborn (1999)
Passenger 57 (1992)
True Crime (1999)
An Arthurian Legend Movie – This year, it was King Arthur: The Legend of the Sword (2017)
A Shaft Movie – This year, it was Shaft (2019)
Twelve movies for the 12 days of Christmas and all that. Some of these movies have absolutely nothing to do with Christmas, but I like them, so I watch them. Be aware that each film is subject to substitution at any moment. Sometimes, I just don’t feel the movie that year. Normally, I don’t make it through the list. However, this year, because of my health, I finished early. Stay tuned for my starting the new year off right movie list.
Memoirs of Madness 