I’ve been working on a new story – not only working – OBSESSED! I don’t think I left the house for most of January and part of February until the first draft was done. I’m currently working through it again and again. I’ve begun to gather my beta readers, and I’m quite excited.
Weekly, I spend time submitting. This is what a working writer does. Writes and submits. Rejections are no fun, and I get plenty of them. I read one statistic that read, “a writer gets an average of 26 rejections for every acceptance.” Not sure how they came up with that… I feel like it’s three times that much; however, things change!
Malcolm Gladwell, estimates it takes 10,000 hours to master any one thing. I feel like I should have reached those hours long ago; but, maybe, it takes some of us a little longer to get it. (That’s the story of my life!)
So – I have to update you.
My poem, “All At Once”, was a finalist in Medusa’s Laugh NanoText Contest. I didn’t win, but it’s still to be published in their anthology and in an e-book version. This should be available soon!
My poem, “I’ve Never Looked So Beautiful” has just been accepted by Mother’s Always Write. Before you start thinking I’m quite full of myself – the poem is about my lovely daughter! This should be available in the next month.
My story, “How to Throw a Psychic a Surprise Party” has been accepted by The Oleander Review. Sometimes, I write something and I think, this is pretty damn good, and I think this story says a lot about our humanity. I’m so happy that it will be published. It will be available mid-April
Finally, ladies and gentlemen, Writer Advice has just notified me that my story, “Memorial Day Death Watch”, has been chosen as a finalist in their Flash Memoir Contest!
We must have a purpose – I’ve always wanted to reach people, tell them they’re not alone. I think I’m just beginning to do that.
Live an Inspired Life!
Dad Shining is available for free now on Kindle Unlimited. Enjoy!
“Through the blue hills and green mountains of West Virginia, there’s a cemetery with my name on it. It’s in the back country where paved roads have yet to enter. The dirt and pebbled pathways are unnamed; the towns, if they can be called that, carry only the names of their settlers. In some cases, the families are long lost to graves and the names are an unsure mixture of dialect and history. But our name has carried through, strong, certain, alone on the trail that leads to the family church, the family land, and there, next to the chapel, the family graveyard.”
How much is your image worth?
Cris is an angry person. He feels that he is not getting his fair share. I’m not sure we can say that he ever had integrity given what he’s about to do. He thinks he’s getting a real deal, and he thinks no one can get hurt.
Where do any of us draw the line in getting what we want? And are we willing to pay the price?
“One Dollar Stories,” my short story, appears in the new Crime Issue by Pilcrow and Dagger.
I went shopping last week. It was earlier in the day, around 11am, on a weekday when stores aren’t usually busy.
I sat on a rather large bench to try on the shoes. It could have easily sat four people, but the sales person set the shoes on the bench next to me leaving room for at least two other people. I tried on a pair. A woman came up, she was lingering around, looking at shoes. I wasn’t paying much attention to anything other than the comfort of the shoes I was trying on. The woman set down the box of shoes in one empty space, set down her large purse in her other empty seat, and continued to stand.
When I got up to walk over to the mirror and examine my shoes, she pushed my shoe boxes further over, said something to her husband that I did not hear, and took my seat. I didn’t say anything, assuming she’d be gone by the time I returned anyway.
She tried on the new shoes, changed back into her shoes, and stood up just as I imagined. I went over, sat back down, and tried on the other pair of shoes. I got up again, expecting she’d take my seat again, but she did not. She grabbed her things, looked my way, and said something like “what’s wrong with some people?”
At the register, the cashier was ringing out the first person in line. There were two other people in front of me. The cashier had forgotten to take the customer’s return from the final price. The customer was very impatient. The woman behind her turned to her friend and said something, loud enough for everyone to hear, about the customer. Sensing an argument that I didn’t want to be a part of, I checked my phone. The customer having the problem walked away without a purchase, causing more negative comments from the friends behind her about how she’d wasted their time. They turned to me, an attempt to bring me into their circle. I looked at my phone, avoided their gaze.
After that purchase, I needed to pick up an order from another counter. Another long line, so I waited. Again, more impatient people. The woman in front of me walked up to another sales person, “can’t you get someone else to help?” She returned, looked at me, and tried to bring me into her circle of complaining about the service.
The first thing that occurs to me is: 1. We have become a very impatient society. I remember waiting in long lines with my mother as a child. People waited patiently, because the wait was expected. Today, with our instant society, no one is expected to wait, and no one expects to have to wait. Does anyone remember the long lines in a Blockbuster video store on a Friday evening? and 2. The Christmas Season is upon us. The season where, unlike the ideal – let their be peace on earth, people are more stressed than at any other time of the year.
Let’s be honest. Christmas time is not the most wonderful time of the year. ESPECIALLY when you’re shopping.
Even every day activities, like running to the market for the usual items, becomes more of a chore. The lines are longer, which honestly is NOT the problem. The problem is how the people act in those lines.
At a local market, I got into the wrong line. I did not see the 15 Items or Less Sign. The person in front of me had a full cart. The man behind me had a full cart. I had probably 20 items. At least two other people in that line waited patiently behind that man without saying a word. But a man walked up to the very back of the line and instantly started complaining. I didn’t pay attention. To hear people complaining about lines is like white noise in the supermarket. But his voice kept getting louder, closer, then he was behind me. He was yelling – YELLING – at the man behind me about having too many items. The man moved his cart and let him go in front of him. The cashier was just about to ring through my things when the man moved his attention to me – “I guess you can’t read either.” I turned around to see, yes, he was indeed speaking to me. He had two children with him. I had no idea what he was talking about until he pointed out the small sign over the register. He had successfully bullied himself to the front of the line and I was the only one standing in his way to be first. The cashier paused, wondering if I was going to let him in front of me. And, you know what, had he called it to my attention nicely, had he asked me with any decency, had he not just bullied the other people in line and berated the old man behind me, I would have let him go – But, it’d been a long day, I was tired, and this man was an asshole. I told him to take a flying leap – well, we’ll say those are the words I used. And the cashier rang me through. The man was still not satisfied with being next; he continued yelling until the manager came over and took him to another register to wait on him personally.
These things happen every day around the holidays. People are pressured, stressed, trying to make their holiday the best for their family, try to get things done between work and other responsibilities, and people lose their patience, if not their minds, in the effort to do so.
Welcome to the corner of bitter and Christmas.
We are supposed to be nicer this time of year, more patient, more beautiful to one another, but so many people lose sight of that.
When I must go out and face the crowds, I prepare myself by telling myself that I must be more patient than those who are not, kinder than those who are not, and I must smile especially for those who are not.
At one sale, my daughter handed me a prized purse; the last of its kind. I wasn’t certain I wanted it but, if I put it down, it’d be gone. I was looking at the purse, wondering if I should really buy it just because it was the last of its kind and everyone else wanted it, when I noticed the woman across the display from me. I smiled. She smiled. “I’m sorry,” she said. “If you’re going to put it back, I’d like to have it.” I handed it to her. She was extremely grateful and happy. I’d made her day. Now, that’s the Christmas Spirit.
I don’t go out on Black Friday. There is nothing I want or need that is worth fighting – literally – fighting for. The stores set things up like a competition – think about it: Competitive Shopping! I say, don’t give in!
In light of everything that is going on in our society right now, in the world, I say keep your common sense, keep your dignity, keep your smile, and stay patient in the face of those who are not. Do not meet them at the corner of bitterness and Christmas, come on over to the Self Respect Cafe and relax.
Less stress means fewer wrinkles, better sleep, an overall better feeling throughout the holiday season – and you’ll never have see one of those embarrassing pictures of yourself.
This season – be kind, be happy.
My new novella, Life of Clouds, will be released next month (fingers crossed!)
It’s a story about family, about heartbreak, sisters, and eventually – hope.
More information to come —–
When I was in middle school, I worked in the school library. Having moved from the city to the suburbs, it was a whole different experience. I didn’t even want to go to school in the city – I can’t even say what the city school’s library looked like or even if they had one. But once we moved to the suburbs, school didn’t seem so horrible. The students, faculty, and librarians were actually NICE!
During our free period in the city school, we were corralled en masse to the giant corridor that also served as our lunch area. It was loud, crazy, there were fights, and yelling, and that was just the teachers! 🙂 We needed to secure a pass to go to the restroom, which was only on the other side of the hall.
At the suburban school, we had choices of where to go or what to do. Sometimes I studied in the library where I met the students who worked there and suggested that I join them. Everyone was nice, so why not? It became one of the first good experiences I had in Academia.
Later – this experience inspired “The Girl I Loved in Middle School.”
Fiction is not a single experience spun into someone else’s story – it’s the product of inspiration. And inspiration is like a seed. It’s a little pod planted serendipitously. A little kernel is sown, and depending on what else is shoved into that space with experience, and compassion, and almost anything can stem from it. This story is not a real experience, it was inspired by something that sprouted during that time.
You can read “The Girl I Loved in Middle School” at Number Eleven Magazine or it’s included in the book of short stories, Here In The Silence.