10 Reasons You Should Not Stand Out

1. It's hard.

Think about it.  What do you have to do to stand out?  Get up early? Work harder than the others?

Picture it, you're at work 15 minutes before everyone else; that's time you could have spent sleeping in.
Why would you work harder than the others? They seem to be doing a good job, no need to make them look bad by doing extra work, or putting more detail into yours, or just helping them.  After all, one for all, all for one, right?

2. It means putting yourself out there.

The tallest blade of grass gets cut, right?

If everyone sees you working hard and you mess something up, all eyes are on you! The CEO will probably walk right up to you and tell you you're fired.  That's way too much responsibility.  Be smart, lie low.


3. You might hurt someone's feelings.

Let's say one day you're at work and you're so busy you find yourself so deep in thought you forgot to go meet your work buddy for lunch.

Uh oh, looks like somebody got too big for their pants! Mr. High And Mighty doesn't have time for "friends" anymore because he's busy trying to make a name for himself.  Pff!  No need to lose friends over extra effort.


4. You might neglect your hobbies.

I mean, come on, if you work a little harder you might accidentally stay late and miss your next round of Call of Duty.

Also, you might be too tired to read your favorite book on the ins and outs of ant farming.  Come on, a shepherd has to tend to his flock right?  What else is life without hobbies?  I mean, it's not like you can just make separate time later.

5. You're lazy.
You have aches and pains and extra work is just....extra work.  You have to do extra work to make yourself stand out, right?

I dunno, I'm lazy.

6. There are others who are better.

John's so good at collecting trash that there's no way I could be better.

I mean, I know we have the same job and everything but he just has eyes that penetrate every where.  It's like he IS the trash.  He just knows where to find it; right in the trash can.  He moves quickly, bagging it, and moving to the next one.  It's hard to compete with people who have done it more than you.



7. You don't have time.
I get it, you're busy.

There is no time to put extra effort into making sure the sandwiches are made properly.  It's quantity over quality, right?  Of course.  No one cares about GOOD WORK, just as long as you're WORKING.


8.  You can't make a difference.
Everyone is so good at your place and you try to be better but you fail.  Even if you stand out exceptionally, it's not like they'll give you a raise, or even a promotion.  Accept the mediocre.

9. The critics are right.

That fat kid in 3rd grade was right, you are a loser.  And you'll never amount to anything.  So let him win.

After all, the critics have all made themselves known in this world, they know how to become great, right?  I mean, otherwise they couldn't criticize you or your work because they would have no grounds.  Oh well.


10. It doesn't really matter anyway.

So what if you work extra, get a raise and a promotion.  You're still working your butt off and you still come home tired.  In the end, it's only money and success.  Money can't buy happiness and success isn't everything.

Sounds like way too much work to me.



W. Justin Hook

Gasoline, Fire, Iron

I remember riding my first motorcycle.

I was nervous the first few miles of the ride but soon after I became one with the machine.  I remember how smoothly it ran underneath me and how effortlessly it could accelerate.  I remember the wind through my hair and the way it felt against my face.  I felt so much more a part of the world I passed through.

The smell of the asphalt on the highway, the warmth of the road on a long summer's day, the crisp cool chill of the morning.  I could feel the misty spray of the settled morning dew as it was picked up.  The rubber and steel of the throttle felt godlike in my control.

It took only mere thought to control the course of the ride.  It became so much more than a machine.  It was a door to freedom that required you have the courage to throw open, because only full commitment was accepted to unlock it.

Like a time traveler, my soul was retracted to a time when life was simpler and man and machine were one.  When there were no computers, only gasoline, a spark, and a slamming piston.

W. Justin Hook

Fulfillment (or lack thereof)

Dear Readers,

Today I had a friend who expressed some dissatisfaction in her life.  She wasn't sure why.

She explained that she had it all, a good paying job, good friends, she was dating a good guy, and that she has a good time in life in general.  Everything for her was good.

But now that I think about it, I think that is exactly where she falls short: good.  When I use the word 'good' to describe something it means it's a lot better than bad, but still not the best.  Good, for some people, can be a damning place to be.

Pardon me for dreaming, but I want the best.

Good, when continually repeated, can become mediocre.  But going from good to great is a large step.  You are therefore required to have the passion and the desire to find The Great.  It isn't easy one bit, and I suppose some of us will never try hard enough to find it.  But, believe me, it's absolutely worth it.

It took me a while to figure out how to do that.  It takes every bit of your soul.  It takes all your passion and will take you to exhausting heights every day.  But when you go home and sleep like the dead because you've tried that hard, then you're doing something right.  It means you've given every last little bit.  So there, that's one way to measure it.  

For me, it took years of doing the wrong thing.  I followed money and money got me nowhere but unhappiness.  I'll be honest, I was lazy.  I did not strive to have anything more than simple existence.  For some people, that's enough, but after a while, I realized, I was killing myself and my soul.  I had to do something.  My mother one day pointed out that our local college was doing their first EMT(emergency medical technician, basically, paramedic's assistants) class.  It sounded exciting, so I took it.  It wasn't easy, and honestly, most of the classroom stuff was fairly boring, but when it came to the hands-on stuff, I was all over it.  I ate it up.

 Toward the end of the class, "clinicals" forced us to taste a bit of the real world.  Required time: 48 hours in an ER, 48 hours on an ambulance.  Once again, I loved it.  While in my EMT class, my cousin, who was a firefighter at the time, inspired me to go to fire academy.  I did.  I made good friends in fire academy, some that to this day I still talk to.  Fire academy was a wonderful experience that helped me forge even more of who I am today.

Oddly enough, while looking for jobs, I found one as an EMT for an EMS ambulance.  I went to work right out of academy.  I began EMS work in a very small town of 1,000 or so people.  It was a very monotonous beginning.  Day in and day out I'd sit in a Lazyboy recliner and watch TV, sometimes all day long.  The house was an old residential house that was given some medical supplies in a closet that was our 'stockroom.'  Every night and every day, a train blew by, sounding its' horn all the way through.  The tracks were less than twenty yards away.  It was very disheartening to someone who was green and I was very green.  This was a retirement station, not a gauntlet run.  Eventually, I started talking to people and I demanded to know what the busiest station was.  I wanted a trial by fire.  When I found out, I requested a transfer to it.

I got it.

I was incredibly excited and seriously nervous.

Our ambulances were stationed in a Fire Department where I became good friends with many of the firefighters there.  Our shifts, which worked 24 hours on and 48 off, could sometimes be very lazy days, or incredibly busy.  That's what I liked about it.  There was always an adventure every day.  It was glorious.  Eventually, though, it came to an end.  One day they said I couldn’t drive anymore because of a ticket on my driving record that I had gotten in my off duty time.  I felt like a fool.  I was broken-hearted.

I left.

With my hat in my hands, I went back to construction work and worked like a reckless idiot.  I was an asshole.  I was resentful of what life had dealt me and I couldn’t move past it.  It took me another year of that before I finally moved on.  I got my life back together, and met some very important people who helped me do it.  I met a lot of wonderful people.  It took me making some guiding friends, a great girlfriend who inspired me to aspire to better things, and getting tired again of the mundane and finding it in myself to achieve.  So now I am here; I have two jobs that I absolutely love.  One is my day job, where I work as a mobile team phlebotomist, basically, the people who collect blood on blood drives.  It’s a lot more fun than it sounds.  I work with some absolutely spectacular people.  My other job; I’m a writer.  It doesn’t pay well, but it's my other passion.  Someday it will.  Just like everything else, it will take time.  I continue day in and day out to strive, to learn, to achieve, and to better myself.  I suggest you do the same.


Passion+Commitment+Aspiration=Happiness

Happiness=Success

GOOD LUCK!


W. Justin Hook

Introductions

Dear Reader,


My name is W. Justin Hook.  I am a writer.  I've been a writer.  I just never really acknowledged it until now.  I've written ever since I was old enough to put pen to paper.  I remember when I was in third grade, I wrote a little book about the Ant and the Spider.  I even illustrated it.  Now it couldn't have been more than 30 words total and maybe 10 pages, but I was so proud of that story, not just because I'd done well on an assignment in Language Arts class, but because I realized that I had a love for writing itself.


Later, in middle school I began to write stories about secret agents on great adventures.  I remember the debonnaire spy's name, Mark West.  Recently, I saw there was a wine brand 'Mark West.'  I thought that was a neat coincidence.  Maybe even an omen.


As I grew into my teens, I began to experience the angst-ridden years.  I wrote a lot of poetry.  Two that I sent into a contest were even published.  It didn't really matter to me, though.  I wrote because I enjoyed it, not for recognition.


Throughout my years I continued to write, I have many notebooks full of random thoughts and short stories.  Now, I've decided to really share my writing with the world.  I've decided that although I'm writing for myself, I can still share it with the world to enjoy.  I've always enjoyed helping people in my various careers.  Now, in my writing passion, I can help others, as well.


Now the name My Little Havana is two-fold:  Havana was the place where Hemingway wrote some of his greatest work.  Cuba was also the place where the cigar, of which I am a big fan, originated from.  I find that my little slice of writing heaven is My Little Havana.


Thank you for your time,


W. Justin Hook


Updates to come.  Also, on July 31st, 2012, I will release the first chapter of my currently untitled and unreleased book.

Visit my Facebook author page at W. Justin Hook