A Quote by Gena Showalter

Sighing, she shut the book with a snap. “All right. You need to vent, so I’ll listen to you vent. But do it quickly, because Rydstorm was about to plunder Sabine with his thick, hard—
When the Vent begins, you might confuse [it] for a conversation. It's not. It's a Vent. It's a mental release valve and your job is to listen for as long as it takes. Don't problem solve. Don't redirect. Don't comfort. Yet. Your employee is doing mental house cleaning and interrupting this cleaning is missing the point. They don't want a solution, they want to be heard.
I try to only vent when I really need to process something, and let the rest go.
There is some reason to believe that when a man does not write his poetry it escapes by other vents through him, instead of the one vent of writing; clings to his form and manners, whilst poets have often nothing poetical about them except their verses.
I have a very hard time picturing myself in a room with some type of goo oozing out of an air vent and killing me; that doesn't really scare me because I don't think that's going to happen to me.
There are some things I feel the need to pussyfoot around that I would like to... give vent to. But I realise the press isn't the place to do that.
She needed to talk, she needed to cry, she needed to vent all her frustrations and disappointments.
That wind. I see it's blowing now. Furtive but commanding, it has dictated every move we've ever made. My mother felt it, and so do I - even here, even now - as it sweeps us like leaves into his backseat corner, dancing us to shreds against the stones. V'la l'bon vent, v'a l'joli vent. I though we'd silenced it for good. But the smallest thing can wake the wind@ a word, a sign, even a death. There's no such thing as a trivial thing. Everything costs; it all adds up until finally the balance shifts and we're gone again, back on the road, telling ourselves - well maybe next time
I don't care how happily married you are or how deeply enmeshed you are with your children and family and career -- every woman needs a couple of chicks who'll break out the sangria just because you need to vent.
A lot of times, people need to vent to people and know that what they're telling you is not going to be shared with anyone else. Or they know you're going to give them 'the real.' Just being truthful to them when they're right, they're right, and when they're wrong, they're wrong.
You shouldn't vent and open up to your husband, your boyfriend, your friend, because they're not professionals; they don't know the right thing to say to you, and putting them in that position is tricky. You have to look at it from their standpoint. It's so much pressure.
To give vent now and then to his feelings, whether of pleasure or discontent, is a great ease to a man's heart.
I find it very satisfying to write because you can purge many things and vent what you feel under the mask of fiction.
I want things to be better all the time. And I tend to get angry about that. Books are an opportunity to vent.
So much of what I do is so strictly confidential that it's nice to be able to discuss or vent or laugh about something and not read about it in the newspaper the next day.
If I don't like it, I don't want to rant about it. There will be things that I vent about if I'm passionate enough, but there are plenty of scathing voices out there already. Who needs another?
Perhaps my favourite story is 'Le Passe-Muraille' by Marcel Ayme. It's about a guy who wakes up with a weird faculty that means he can walk through walls. He's a very shy clerk, and he uses it to get revenge, or vent his frustration.
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