Victoriously Boring
You know, day-to-day life is pretty boring, if you think about it. Ok, my life is boring right now, in most spots. Sure, there's excitement, and uncertainty, and the potential for joy and pain in every day. It's like a roller coaster only you can't see what's coming and you can't get off the ride. But still, you get up in the morning, pack lunches, kiss your husband good bye, and go to work. You might kiss him twice and agree when he suggests that you send the kids to work and the two of you stay home... but no, you do the boring thing and drive off to work, leaving the dog sitting at the door watching patiently for her pack to return home to her.
This is why most books are not written about daily life. They're about something intrusive that interrupts the humdrum, whether that is a small crisis or a large one. When I'm writing, I tend toward small stories: not 'Save the World!' or 'Save the UNIVERSE!!11!!!' but more 'save my princess' life' (Lom in Pixie Noir) or 'save my way of life' (Jem in Tanager's Fledglings) and sometimes it's about failing badly at what the character is attempting to do (dying, in Jade's case in Jade Star). That's not to say there's anything wrong with plots that revolve around earth-shattering events, it's just that's not what my muse likes. Sometimes I'd like to write an epic, but like my art, I have a soft, warm side and that shows in my writing.
I can't do fierce in art to save my life. I need to take lessons in scary. The First Reader suggests that I try making compositions sharper, harder-edged, more angled... I tend to do curves, soft, and cute without consciously thinking about it. I am so not an edgelord.
Not that I want to be, really. Encountering trolls on the Mad Genius Club and Twitter over the last couple of days just reminds me why you don't bait trolls: it's icky to argue with the mentally ill. Don't feed the trolls, and they'll go bother someone else, after a while. And of course, through the internet you can always mark them as spam and block them, which makes ignoring them even easier. Trolls in person, slightly less easy to avoid. Fortunately, I haven't got but one of those right now, and I'm scrupulously careful not to encounter her, which is easy enough, although I have given serious consideration to moving school districts after the Ginja Ninja graduates just to be very sure I never have to deal with her again.
We all have people in our lives we would rather never have to speak to again. Fortunately, this is usually possible. Sometimes painful if they are family, but if there's one thing I have learned, it's that abuse of any sort should never be tolerated. That was a harsh lesson, but one that I learned all too well, and I won't accept excuses like 'they are tool old to change' or 'they don't know what they are doing' or even 'they mean well' because bullsh*t. If they will say one thing to your face, and another behind your back, walk away and don't look back.
I'd say that words only have power if you let them, but it's too trite. And it's not true. Words have great power, and while you can moderate them, sometimes they are going to hit you like a tripwire and you'll find yourself on the ground hurting before you fully know what happened. Picking yourself up, dusting yourself off, and walking on? That's the hard part, but that's the part that takes the power away from the one who was trying to cause damage. Resilience in the face of bullying isn't easy, but the reward is deflating the bully who was trying to score points. There are people in life who just want to feel superior, and if you don't give that to them by allowing them power over you, that's the best victory.
Ride on. I'm not sure how I got here, from a boring life up above, but perhaps that's the point. Don't let other people cast stress on you. Live a boring humdrum life. Most of us will never have to deal with anything more dramatic than saving a kitten, certainly not saving the universe. But we can read about heroism, and that example gives us the kernel of strength to endure the trolls and ogres of life, in whatever guise they take, from internet bullies and SJWs (but I repeat myself) or sweet little old ladies we're related to (but have souls of arsenic and ground glass slipped into the cake batter).