Month: March 2019

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If At First You Don’t Succeed…

10/24/2013

You could finish that statement easily enough, couldn’t you?  I’m sure most people recognize Vince Lombardi’s quote, “Winners never quit and quitters never win.”  And Thomas Edison’s quote, “I have not failed.  I’ve just found 10,000 ways that won’t work” is often cited as a positive spin on the scrapes and bruises which come along as the result of the struggle for success.

The truth is success doesn’t often come easy and quite often not on the first attempt.  It would be nearly ridiculous for an author to expect to complete a book on the first draft.  It goes through revisions, editing, and sometimes a complete rewrite.  Most paintings begin from a sketch or at least an idea, before they find their true form.  Diamonds don’t come out of the ground with those perfect cuts and polish.

Yet, we often berate ourselves over failure or hang our heads at dismal results.  Why is it we are so hard on ourselves when failures and mistakes just help us to clarify the pathway?  Often when we stumble, it’s because there is another way.

When you meet with an obstacle do you see only the closed door, or do you look around for the one which has opened?  Is it really a dead end or just a fork in the road?  No doubt there are times we need to recognize when we are simply beating our heads against the wall, but even under those circumstances there may be another option.  Perhaps we need to step back and look at the big picture.  Even that proverbial wall we are bouncing against might be just what we need to see another way around the problems blocking our success.

The real question is whether we are willing to learn from those mistakes.  Are we open to what they reveal about our plans?  Can we use them to improve or change our navigational course?  Are we simply going to dwell on them or make use of them?

As with most of these blog posts, they originate with me.  Often the ideas come from things with which I’ve struggled.  As I seek to encourage myself, I offer encouragement to you as well.   Take heed of the signs along the path.  Look for how your mistakes can help you achieve success.  Open your eyes to the big picture to see if you really know what it is you are trying to accomplish and if that goal is the right goal for you.

Here are a few more inspiring quotes about persistence toward success:

“Success is not final, failure is not fatal: it is the courage to continue that counts.” – Winston Churchill

“In order to succeed, your desire for success should be greater than your fear of failure.” – Bill Cosby

“I’ve failed over and over and over again in my life and that is why I succeed.” – Michael Jordan

“Develop success from failures.  Discouragement and failure are two of the surest stepping stones to success” – Dale Carnegie

“The difference between a successful person and others is not a lack of strength, not a lack of knowledge, but rather a lack of will.” – Vince Lombardi

“Success is to be measured not so much by the position that one has reached in life as by the obstacles which he has overcome.” – Booker T. Washington

“I don’t measure a man’s success by how high he climbs, but how high he bounces when he hits bottom.” – George S. Patton “Never, never, never give up.” – Winston Churchill

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Yeah, I’m on Twitter

10/2013

I say that almost reluctantly.  I know it’s hip, cool, or whatever word is used these days, but it’s awkward.  Twitter is great for those people who have things pop in their heads and they just like to spout it off, but I’m more of a pipe-smoker.  I have to think about something before I say it and therefore a simple tweet becomes a struggle.  I type it, think about it, erase it, type, think, erase… after going through this a few times, I just drop it.

Twitter has become a popular form of social media, particularly among young people.  Just as the youthful crowd was the first to move from MySpace to Facebook, often with the goal of escaping the prying eyes and gathering of parents and grandparents, they have migrated to this form of social media where they can tweet off any thought which comes to mind.  With a language of its own, Twitter can sometimes be daunting to new users.

I ventured to this place under the direction of John Locke, who was the first independent author to ever sell over one million downloads.  Following his “How to” instructions, I set up a Twitter account to build a following and hoping, along with apparently hundreds of thousands of other independent authors, to find readers for my books.

After being on Twitter for more than two years, it just hasn’t panned out that way and I find myself visiting the Twitter-world less and less often.  Admittedly, my lack of success with Twitter Marketing largely has to do with my failure to implement the strategies which were suggested and are followed by most of the independent authors who use it.  With over sixteen-hundred followers (small beans compared to most tweeters), you would think there would be at least a few who might be tempted to buy my books, but the problem with marketing on Twitter is that you have to buy into the whole idea of self-promotion for it to work.

Another problem with Twitter is that it is easy to find and follow people just like you, but not always so easy to build a diversified base.  So, I’ve fallen into this Twitter Abyss, where ninety percent of the people who follow me are the very authors in which I find myself in competition with for readership, which wouldn’t be bad if the only goal was to find people with whom I could relate or when building a support network.  However, when the goal is to find readers or market your work, this isn’t exactly the type of following one might desire

My Twitter feed is full of “Buy My Book” tweets from other independent authors who are all there for the same reason.  I get so inundated by these endless pleas and painful reminders I am just a small fish in a giant pond; it just doesn’t capture me.  Don’t get me wrong, it can be entertaining from time to time, but I can’t spend hours on it or even drop what I’m doing to check the feed.

Call me a dreamer, call me naive, paint me old fashioned, or simply call me stupid, but I can’t buy into the endless, non-stop, ticker-type stream of self-promotion.  I don’t want people to buy my book because I bothered them until they did.  In this world of videos and news stories gone viral, I want to be known for writing something which creates such an emotional impact it develops a groundswell of grassroots support.  Obviously, I haven’t achieved that, but I can still hope.  I want success upon its own merits.  If the work isn’t good enough to gather that kind of support, then it simply isn’t good enough.

I still believe in readers.  I believe in ‘real’ readers, book lovers, who get so caught up in a story, or are so moved with passion, that they can’t help but tell others about the experience.  People like me who talk about how a story impacted them or are blown away that the author was able to paint such vivid pictures in their mind or develop characters who actually come alive.

I know they are out there, waiting for just the right story.  I read it in the reviews of books I like.  The same stories which touch me touch them.  So, how do I find them?  The only way I know how.  I keep striving to write that special story which captures their hearts and loosens their tongues in a way that they just can’t contain how they feel about it.  It may take several tries.  There may be six, eight, ten, twelve books or more published before I find the right one.  I’m not afraid of being a one hit wonder.  If I can write a book which gets talked about like To Kill A Mockingbird or Catcher In The Rye (which I actually never cared for), I’ll be happy.  Sure, Harper Lee only wrote one book, but everyone knows that one title.  J.D. Salinger may only be known for one book, written in 1951, but it still sells an average of 250,000 copies per year.

Hey, I don’t want to sound like Negative Nelly here.  There are some great things about Twitter, Facebook, and any of those other social media platforms. I’ve reconnected with friends from high school and college.  I’ve met some really wonderful people.  I have developed what I consider to be close friendships with people I’ve never even met.  I’ve come across interesting topics and conversation.  Through those interactions, I’ve learned so much more than I would have on my own.  I’ve been exposed to other independent authors and come to realize there is incredible talent out there.  I can’t even remember the last time I bought a book from a mainstream author.

So, yeah, I’m on Twitter, and you are more than welcome to follow me (@celemieux), though rather than endless tweets about my books you are more likely to find quotes I like or humorous stabs at my kids.  I slip in a reminder about my books once in a while, but it won’t be an endless feed of self-promotion.  It may even be a little boring compared to what you can find on Twitter.  But I’ll engage if you engage, and I’ll keep looking for those illusive readers.   I’ll stick with my naive and old fashioned ideas about what makes a book popular.  To me it starts with the work and ends with the reader.  If the reader finds value, it will get their vote, and if they do not find value, it is time to try again.

By the way, “Buy My Book, There’s Something About Henry. It’s on Amazon.”

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The Latest

10/15/2013

I apologize.  I’ve been incredibly bad at updating this blog in the last year.  I actually did write a couple of blog articles which I will post in the future, but I’ve just struggled with getting back to the blog.  The good news is the time away from the blog hasn’t been a total waste; I’ve worked on several projects.

There’s Something About Henry published in September.  Both the Kindle version and the paperback are available exclusively on Amazon until the end of the year.  I hope you find it interesting.  Although I tried to write it as a standalone novel, it follows the ending of Whispers in the Wind, telling the story of Henry Newburn.

I have finished two drafts of Some Kind of Life.  The cover is ready and a proof has been ordered.  I enjoyed the characters in this book so much.  Sophie is a bit of a geek, transplanted to Oklahoma by her dad’s new job.  She has a very sterile view of life and looks to science for answers to her most important questions.  Cole is a happy-go-lucky guy, not terribly popular, but able to use his humor to get him out of most of his social difficulties.  There is a considerable amount of conversation and both Sophie and Cole have fun, lively personalities.

The Ladder Climber is most likely to be the next novel published and it is my sincere hope to have that ready before the end of the year.  So far, the pre-published reviews of The Ladder Climber are very good.  Nick Gordon is a district manager with the world’s largest retailer.  He is at the top of his game and he’s reaching for the next rung on the corporate ladder.  Then his world gets thrown off kilter and he finds himself spinning out of control.  Caught in a web between three very different women, Nick is on a search for a way to get his life back on track.  The Ladder Climber is set in Colorado.

The Blemished Rose is in proof stage and needs some more editing.  My plan is for this novel to be published after the first of the year.  The Blemished Rose is a darker story which gets down and dirty on the streets of Houston.

The Suicide Squeeze is moving along nicely.  This story has a bit of a baseball influence, thus the title.  I’m having a great deal of fun with these characters as well.  Josh and Sam are both lively and it’s been a joy weaving baseball into the story line.

You know, conflict is the driving force behind a story.  I’ve tried to experiment with different types of conflict.  Both Some Kind of Life and The Suicide Squeeze use conflict in unique ways and still keep the emotional impact of the overall story.

In addition to these stories, there are at least four more manuscripts in varying stages of progress.  So, as you can see, even though I may not be doing a terrific job of keeping up with the monthly blog articles, I have been busy.  As always, thanks for following along. I appreciate your continued support.  If you haven’t picked up a copy of There’s Something About Henry, it is available on Amazon and Kindle.  If you have read There’s Something About Henry, please consider leaving your comments as a review.  Whether you liked the book or not, I really want to hear from you.

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Negative Nelly

09/16/2013

Recently, I’ve been giving my son a hard time about his pessimism.  It’s really easy to see why he’s had a hard time with it.  Just a few short weeks into baseball season, and as he was really getting excited about playing the game again, he suffered a broken leg on a slide into third base.  He had made new friends on the team and was enjoying not just the game, but also the camaraderie of the relationships he was developing.  All that appeared to be coming to an end with the broken leg.

As he went through the healing process, little changes and feelings he hadn’t experienced before seemed to make him think things were going worse instead of getting better.  The darkness in the foot and the continued swelling caused him to question if it was healing, even though the doctor said it was going well.  After one particular visit to the doctor, when he’d been worried the leg wasn’t healing correctly, I texted him, calling him Negative Nelly repeatedly to rouse him from his pessimism.

He did make it to some of the baseball games in an effort to let the team know he was still supporting them and those moments seemed to lift his spirits.  Then the prognosis of extended time before he would be able to get back to normal pulled him back down.  Stuck in his room keeping the leg up, he kind of became a recluse and didn’t interact with the family much

This year we didn’t have enough players for a football team, an incredibly depressing thought for a team which had played for the state championship the previous year.  We cooperated with a neighboring town, and he had hopes of playing with them.  Even though he knew he wouldn’t start the season, he participated in practices and team get-togethers, again to show support for the team, and I think to make himself feel better about things.

On his last visit to the doctor, he was under the impression he would be able to play in just a few weeks.  But after meeting with the physical therapist, his hopes were dashed again as he found out how long the actual recovery would take.

All of these things seemed to pile up, and he had taken on a bit of a negative attitude about things.  He seemed to focus on the bad news rather than the good.  Again, an easy pit to fall into when you are young and things don’t seem to be going your way.

But he’s not alone.  It’s often easy to let life’s little obstacles rob us of our positive outlook.  As adults, sometimes we fall into the spin cycle of negativity and can’t seem to get out.  Financial hardships, health issues, the daily grind… they all seem to suck the life and energy out of us.

However, there are those among us who somehow are able to skip over the negativity and always focus on the positive.  They are amazing people, and I often wonder if they really never get down or they just find a way to pull out of it before anyone notices.  Either way, it is an admirable trait, to be able to face the world looking through those rose colored glasses and stay perpetually on the upside of things.  However, many of us have to work a little harder to stay on the up and up.

One way to keep things in focus is to remember that as bad as things seem, “this too shall pass.”  Even though my son’s leg was broken, it will heal, and in the long run he will be better for the experience.  He will learn from it and he will see that he can push through it.

Another way to overcome those moments of negativity is to count your blessings.  A little over a year ago, my son… along with the rest of his family…had lost his home.  We faced something we had never expected.  It is a suddenly overwhelming experience to be without all with which you are familiar.  But with a great amount of support, we weathered it and we were brought to a place where we could see what was really important in our lives.  Even with the loss, we had some wonderful things for which we could be thankful.

Perhaps, our negativity is the result of a bad decision or a mistake.  If so, we need to recognize we all make mistakes and avoid continued punishment.  We must make the decision to learn from the mistake and move on.  We can’t allow it to continue to eat away at our confidence or energy levels.  The more time we devote to dwelling on it, the more time is lost for moving to a more positive frame of mind.

When faced with the negative, we can stop our thought patterns and redirect our focus.  Forcing ourselves to think about other things, occupying our minds with other thoughts can help us to overcome that pulling of our souls into the darkness.  Surrounding ourselves with positive thinkers can help as well. Whatever it takes, we can pull it off.   We can avoid being a Negative Nelly or a Pessimistic Paul by looking for what’s right or good with our lives.  We can look forward to the time when we heal and become stronger than we were because of the experience.


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Life Is A Box Of Chocolates

05/2013

“Life is like a box of chocolates, Forrest.  You never know what you’re gonna get.” — Mrs. Gump, Forrest Gump

I wouldn’t even need to give credit, and you would know where that came from. We all know the quote.  If you’re like me you’ve probably watched Forrest Gump a thousand times.  In truth there are several quotes which ring with wisdom inside the simple mind of Forrest Gump.  However, I believe his momma’s quote is about as spot on as they come.

Life is a blend of bittersweet.  I recently watched my second oldest son graduate.  As I looked out on those kids, there were so many who had endured or been touched by hardship and tragedy in their young lives.  There they were standing upon the threshold of adulthood, when life traditionally starts throwing things at you, and many had already experienced what one might consider as their share.  But on that day they were filled with smiles, childhood memories, and dreams.

Life is a blend of bittersweet; an experience of triumph and tragedy mixed together creating its own unique taste.  A selection of morsels from which we all partake, it’s made up of varied ingredients; a splash of tear drop, a dash of longing, sprinkles of happiness, and a dusting of pure sweet memories sifted into this bowl of existence; kneaded by the fingers of time; rolled out beneath the weight of loss; stamped into the shapes of broken hearts and angel wings.  The taste is without compare; deeper than the loss of innocence, more enticing than the pull of melancholy, as sweet as the aroma of love.

Whether heartache or happiness, emotion plays an important role in this journey.  This is why I write what I write.  I find value in the emotion of words, in the ability of an author to flick that switch with just a phrase, a context, or even a well-timed word.  The right word can trigger a feeling or a memory; memories which serve as the doorway to reconnect with those moments of happiness, contentment, and love.

Life is a blend of bittersweet; we find ourselves celebrating the good times and struggling over the bad times.  We try to make sense of it and understand the reasons things go the way they go.  In the midst of tragedy, silver-linings are hidden in the misty fog of sorrow and heartache.  When life is going our way it can seem like rainbows and candy sprinkles, but when life throws a curve and the clouds roll in, the color seems to disappear.  We find the air sucked from our lungs and the world closing in around us, sending us to seek comfort in faith, prayer, and in others.

Most of our lives, most of the time spent on this earth, falls somewhere between the teardrops and the laughter.  But just as the majesty of the mountains, the enormity of the canyons, and the might of the oceans cause the bland road-travel to disappear among our vacation recollections, so the hills and valleys of life seem to become the highlights of our existence; the granite core to our nostalgias.

I read a story once in an Ann Landers column; it was called The Station by Robert J. Hastings.  In fact, I’ve kept a copy around for a long time to reference from time to time.  It speaks of life and happiness as a journey and not as a destination.  It serves as a reminder that the little day to day interactions are just as important as those monumental moments.  I’ve seen this in the example of my children.  When we get lost in reminiscence, I’m often amazed at the little things which mean so much to them; things which had slid by me almost without notice had become part of their favorite memories.

Life is a blend of bittersweet.  It is a box of chocolates.  We take the good with the bad.  We never know what we will get.  But we have the opportunity to fill in the middle with our own pieces of nuts, filling, or fruit which can add flare or flavor in any way we desire.  We can claim our own successes and recognize those things which we choose to make important.  We can allow the gentle rub of soul against soul to leave our touch upon others and leave our mark behind.  We can take the time to consider what others have left behind for us.  How have they touched us? How did their presence make us just slightly different than the person we may have been without them?

Life is a blend of bittersweet.  Taste it for what it is.  Discover that which moves you and treasure the flavors you savor.  Taste that sweetness and allow the bitter aftertaste to remind you how fleeting that taste can be; fleeting enough to be worthy of our recognition and our wonderment.

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Time

12/2010

With Thanksgiving becoming a distant memory and Christmas having come and gone, we stand at the threshold of a new year.  It’s hard to believe we are about to let 2011 slip into the record books.  Wasn’t it just a few months back that we were saying goodbye to 2010?  Time is a squirmy little concept.  Years seem to fly by.  You close your eyes and it seems your kids have grown and flown from the nest.   On the other hand, yet you stand in line at the checkout counter and your patience can find itself stretched to capacity in a mere matter of minutes.  Crazy how it works, isn’t it?

Think about it.  You start off the work week; get bogged down in the stress and find yourself wishing time would slip into high gear and bring those days off flying around the corner.  You hit the weekend and you’re putting on the brakes trying to slow the clock down so you can have just a little more time!  You wake up an hour before the alarm clock goes off, glance at the time before drifting back off to sleep and it seems that last hour just wasn’t enough.  You sit in the waiting room of the doctor’s office watching the second hand tick tortuously around in a circle and that hour seems like an eternity.

How can a single measurement of time cause so many different reactions? 

I’ve talked about time in many different ways in the blog articles.  I guess it’s just something which intrigues me.  I’ve talked about trading time to our employers for money and sharing time with family and friends; time as a commodity.  The thing is none of us really know how much time we have, so we simply don’t know how valuable it is.  When something is in short supply, the value goes up; like a shortage of fuel or a limited collector’s item.  If we really knew how much time we had, we would probably be spending it on the things which we valued the most.

We’re at the beginning of another school year.  Wow!  Those kids have no idea how fast their time will pass them by.  Most of them live with the idea that they have plenty of time ahead of them.  Parents will be talking about managing their time so they have enough time for school work.  They will need to balance the amount of time they devote to sports, friends, and work.  Above all else, how do we teach them that their time is valuable and limited?

Of course, their carefree spirits towards time and life in general will allow them to live life more fully.  They’ll take more risks than we’d like them to take.  They’ll see life as an adventure and an experience to be savored.  In short, many of them will want to use their time for fun and we want them to enjoy being kids. One day, however, they may find themselves wishing for time to slow down so that they can do all they wanted to do.  They will hope for enough time to spend with the people they care most about.  And, they’ll stare at that clock on the office wall hoping for time to speed up so they can get off work and have time to themselves.  They will see their own kids wasting their time and they’ll encourage them to use it more wisely.

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From Our Family To Yours

07/22/2012

This began as a Facebook post.  After I decided I had too much to say for that, it morphed into a blog article and after Julie asked me to write something for the paper, it was modified a little more.  First, before I go any further, I have to say this, “If your gas grill is closer than three to five feet from your home, stop reading this and go move it.  You don’t want that regret hanging over your head.”

Okay, where to start?  That’s what I think when I look at what is left.  It is also what I think when I begin to think of all the things for which we are thankful.  A nearly one hundred year old landmark is gone, as is the home where so many of our memories took place, the only place our kids know as home.  We’ve kind of moved around through temporary homes and we still have some more transitions to endure.  My kids lost most of their treasures and mementos. I won’t deny that it is uncomfortable and humbling to be where we are right now.  Yet, I can’t help feeling we are blessed beyond measure.  We are well and safe and living among really terrific people.

We are not the first to lose a home to fire or to be faced with difficulty.  There are so many people out there who have it much worse than we do today.  There are people who have absolutely no insurance, no families, or live in communities where they feel they are among strangers.  There are those who have lost loved ones and live through terrible tragedies.  There are those who are called upon to find deep wells of courage, just to get through the obstacles which face them.  We have much for which we can be thankful.  We are fortunate the fire didn’t smolder until we had gone to bed and that we had neighbors who came to warn us, call it in, and help try to put it out.  We are fortunate we have family and friends nearby.  We are so blessed to be living where we do.  Though our lives have been changed and are a little crazy right now, we are blessed and we know it.

Over the past few weeks there have been so many times when I’ve felt overwhelmed by the blessings of kindness which have fallen upon us, much like the coach at the end of Facing The Giants or George Bailey at the end of It’s A Wonderful Life.  You…yes…You are the greatest people on the planet.  From the Deputies, Firemen, and EMTs who had their hands full all day with a grass fire only to spend the evening trying to help us, to the friends and neighbors who have gone way beyond anyone’s expectations, to the prayer warriors who have come together for us from all over – “Thank you” will always seem to fall short of really explaining how much we appreciate you, but we’ll try.  Each time one of You show up to offer more support, or to offer words of kindness, we are seized with emotion.  On Sunday you overwhelmed us once again with your kindness.

There are so many of you, we simply can’t name all of you individually and we certainly wouldn’t want to leave anyone out.  Some of you work behind the scenes, so we don’t even know all you have done, but rest assured we know you are there.  Thank you for your generosity, for your kindness, your concern, your gifts, your words and deeds.  Thank you for your dedication, your thoughts and your prayers.  Most of all, thank you for being you – the caring, wonderful people you are.  You’ve come together for so many others and I’m sure you will come together for many others in the future.  That togetherness is one of the many things which seems to make living in this area so special.  It may not be glamorous, but it is home.

To me our house had become a living thing; the place where my kids have grown; the place to which we moved when we were new parents; a place which has helped inspire my imagination; a place which was occupied before us by some very special people.  So much history moved through those walls, both our history and Forgan’s.  Though I’ve grumbled through replacing windows, walls, and the cost of heating and cooling it; it was still special enough to serve as a setting for three of my stories.  It may not have been glamorous, but just like the area in which we live, it is home.

Last week I sat on the front porch and thought of all the things I’ll miss about that house.  I’ll miss stepping out on the covered porch with my kids during a thunderstorm to watch the rain roll off the roof and feel it spray against me when the wind blows.  I’ll miss the way the porch swing thumped, thumped, thumped as the wind blew it into the side of the house.  I’ll miss the sound of my kids running down the stairs.  I’ll miss its creaks and settling noises.  I’ll miss the view going into the front door which inspired the first chapter of Whispers in the Wind.

We’ll have another home and it will have its own memories and characteristics, but it won’t be that one.  It won’t have the same atmosphere or the worn in feeling of an old pair of jeans or a favorite t-shirt.  It will be newer and probably have fewer problems.  The walls and the trim won’t be scared and scuffed by the day to day life of a growing family.  No, it won’t be the same, but over time it will take on a life of its own.  Its walls will hear and remember the voices of a thousand conversations.  It will break in like that new pair of jeans and become just as comfortable as the old ones.  The walls and paint will become smudged with growing hands; there will be pieces of our lives left upon their surfaces.  It will transform from a house to a home and a capsule of our lives together.

The past three weeks have been a whirlwind of activity.  We’ve spent much of the time working from morning until late in the evening sorting and sifting.  We’ve received help with that from our families and friends.  We’re still working on inventorying the house.  It’s a long process and I encourage you to at least take some pictures of your rooms to keep in the safe deposit box so you have something to reference for later.  Most of our rooms downstairs, though smoke and water damaged, are intact and that has helped, but the upstairs is a different story.  Also, get a fireproof-safe for your pictures or get them put on disc and keep them in your safe deposit box.  We have been able to save a lot of pictures.  We had one tub of photo albums which would have burned, but it was full of water.  We had to pull the pictures apart and dry them, but they were saved.

We’ve received so many clothes, that we donated the ones which weren’t the right sizes.  So you helped us and we passed on some of your help to others.  We are in good shape on clothing.  My parents dining room and Julie’s dad’s porch were filled with tubs of clothing until we moved into the temporary home.  We’ve had offers of furniture and cooking items, but right now our biggest issue is having room to storing things.  Our garage is filled with things we could salvage from the house, cabinets and furniture.  Many of those items may have to go due to smoke or water damage, but we have to keep them until after the insurance company finishes its numbers.  We can’t really start cleaning up the sight or tearing down the structure until they are done.

We received offers of places to stay and though most of them didn’t work out because of the size of our family, we appreciate your offers more than you can know.  The insurance company decided to move in a mobile home for us to live in temporarily. 

Our hope is to rebuild or move in a modular home.  Though we’ve started looking at home plans and visited with some builders and modular home companies, we really can’t make any decisions until we see what we can afford.  Our insurance basically pays for the parts of the home which were destroyed until it meets the maximum.  Again, just a suggestion, but take a look at your homeowner’s policy and see what is covered.  If you can afford it, make sure you have replacement coverage and not just a dollar amount.

We’ve gone back to work and are making adjustments to our normal.  So to sum it all up, friends and neighbors, we will be okay.  It will be awkward, uncomfortable, or difficult for a while.  We may have to adjust to a different type of home or some place smaller than we were accustomed, but we’ll be fine.  We may not have a place to call our own for a while as we figure out what steps to take, but we’ll be okay.  God has blessed us to live in a great community and a great area.  We have each other and our families.  We’ll create more memories and gather more mementos.  Someday things will seem normal again, but every day we can be thankful to live in an area where people have the kinds of hearts and souls which reach out to others; the kind of people who understand that there is sincerity in our words when we say, “Thank You.”  Along with our thanks, know that you are in our prayers as well.  We pray that the Lord will bless you for blessing us.  May His kindness and generosity rain down upon you and your families.  May He quench the thirst of your dry land and watch over you as you have watched over us. 

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Time Is A Commodity

2012

I’ve had this thought on my mind for a while now.  Recent events have tweaked and twisted it, but still it remains. Time is a commodity.  It is something of value.  It is something with which we barter.  It is something we trade, sell, or donate.  In looking back at my first blog of the year, I find this is a bit of a continuation of that theme.

You know, all books and all authors have some theme or meaning lying underneath the surface of the words.  Themes can deal with nearly anything – internal conflicts, external conflicts, personal value, search for happiness/contentment, etc.  You follow me on this I’m sure.  In my book, Loving Deacon, the theme focuses on personal value.  Deacon has found happiness in his wife and his family, but what he is missing is his personal satisfaction with who he is and the purpose his life has served.  In Whispers in the Wind, Abby thinks she has found happiness by following her dreams, only to find true happiness somewhere else.  The Ladder Climber is yet to be published, but its theme deals with finding the right balance to life and work.  The Blemished Rose, which also has not yet been published, deals with misplaced guilt.

One underlying theme in each of these novels is time.  In every instance, time plays a major role because life is much about time and how we use it.  Time is a commodity.  We trade time to our employer for pay.  We put in a certain amount of time on the job and they give us a certain amount of money for that time.  Of course, when it comes to how much money we are able to get for that time other factors come into play, such as technical skills, experience, and the difficulty of the task.  This particular blog article isn’t about discussing the fairness of the trade, a discussion which could go on and on, but rather the fact that time is something which is limited and valuable.

Although much of our time is necessarily devoted to work or earning a living, we chose how we use our time.  We try to portion our time so we can keep at least some of it for ourselves and our families.  Some people save enough time to golf, fish, read, watch movies, or whatever makes them happy.  Parents save time to go watch their kids play sports or attend a Christmas concert.  Families look forward to taking time for vacations.  People donate time to charities.

Perhaps if we knew just how much time we had, we would prioritize it better, but the truth is we don’t.  When we are young life seems almost endless and we find ourselves believing we have plenty of time.  We take more risks, we live carefree, and time appears to be on our side.  And yet, plenty of young people never see their eighteenth birthday; they just didn’t have much time.  As we grow older and people pass from among us, the limits of our time start to become more real.

Based upon my core beliefs, I believe there is a purpose to the amount of time we are given; a purpose for life and a certain amount of time in which to accomplish it.  Deacon says we are like dominoes and each of us impacts the other.  Therefore, my purpose could lead you to your purpose or vice versa.  The ripples of your life may flow into mine.  Even a life which seems cut short may have been just long enough to help shape another life or provide the catalyst necessary for another to find their purpose.  These are my thoughts and you’re welcome to your own, of course.

I must admit, much of mine is wasted on things with little importance.  So much time is spent worrying about things which really don’t matter in the grand scheme of life.  These things become a distraction, sucking away time which could be better served if focused upon things of value.  Such squandering of time is much akin to the accumulation of things; things which will waste and wither away; things which simply aren’t needed in order to live happy and comfortably.

What about you?  What’s your purpose?  Are you to do something which catches worldwide attention changing the course of history?  Maybe you’re doing something just as important by changing someone else’s history; nurturing children who will shape the world in which they live.  Perhaps your life was meant to rub up against someone else who has a completely different purpose.  Will you look back on your time and find it was used wisely or squandered on a pot full of irrelevance?  We probably all have things in our lives which are well worth the time as well as things which aren’t worth a minute and though I don’t think it is healthy to question ourselves on every second of our time, I do think it is healthy to realize that life is largely about how we spend our time.

Make the most of it my friends.  Hug those grand-kids.  Kiss your own kids.  Stop and smell the roses.  Take the time to offer roses.  Write a book.  Read a book.  Plant a tree.  Give some blood.  Visit with someone.  Spend some time alone.  Just use it for what is important to you and to those you care about.

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It’s Spring

2012

Spring is rolling in upon the Panhandle.  A few weeks ago we took a trip to visit my son at college.  The ribbon of highway lifted and fell with the rolling hills.  It was early morning and along the way I watched as the world was awakened to the morning sunlight.  Fog held in the low spots; that wonderful kind of fog which just lifts above the ground and makes me feel like I’m driving just under the clouds.

Along the road the cattle moved and grazed, vapor rising into the air as they exhaled into the early morning chill.  Water dripped and drooled from their mouths as they paused in their drinking from the water in standing ponds, creeks, and water tanks to offer a curious glance as we passed.  A bull lifted his snout in the air to echo out his deep call into the quiet of the morning and, though I couldn’t hear him from inside the car, the image of his actions offered the sound within the confines of my mind.

In the fields of brown, life had started to eek its way to the surface, dotting the earth with a shade of bright, fresh green.  The spindly bare limbs of trees were growing bumps as the buds of new leaves grew toward their unfolding.  Green squares of winter wheat fields contrasted against the gray squares of old stubble, the dark squares of plowed soil, and the brown squares of dormant grass like the spaces on a checkerboard.  Across the prairie, heavy dew glistened and sparkled like a sprinkling of diamonds reflecting the light of the sunrise.  I couldn’t help but be taken in by the details of this chilly Oklahoma morning.

A few days ago, I sat waiting to pick up the kids from school.  With the windows down and the light breeze blowing in, I absorbed the beautiful warmth of the sunlight and a flawless baby blue sky.  The paper thin seeds of the elms floated down upon Main Street like confetti.  It was the kind of day which made me wish youthful thoughts for a convertible and the blast of a good stereo, the wind whispering through the barren land where my hair once grew.  Spring fever was growing and I longed for a fishing rod and some soft green grass.

Last week I went to the track meet.  Aside from the races and field events, kids of varied ethnicities and cultural backgrounds ran, laughed, and played in the center of the field.  Their easy interactions were warming in the current climate of political and cultural confusion.  The odor of sunscreen filled the air and the absence of its use was reflected in the sunburned noses, cheeks, legs, and arms.  Upon sleeping bags and blankets, young athletes read books, snacked, teased, and wrestled with each other while they waited between events.  The thin wires of headphones draped down from their ears as they took in the wonder of spring and blended it with their own choices of music; faces filled with mixed sentiments of contentment, ease, confidence, apprehension, hope, and happiness.

Today, the day after Easter, the morning started with overcast skies which slowly rolled away to reveal pale blue once again.  The yards are green with grass and weeds.  Henbit, a weed of course, has taken over the town and small purple flowers spread like carpet unrolled upon the yards and open lots.  Annoying as it may be, it is pretty in its own way.

The trees are nearly fully leaved now.  The gray-brown branches which were dormant all winter are filled with green.  Track meets, softball, and golf games carry the echoes of voices and laughter as people move from their inner sanctuaries to absorb the wondrous feeling of once again being outside.  Sounds of mowers and weed trimmers hum or whine in the background.  Sweet scents of flowers blooming and grass being cut have begun to fill the world and create their own feelings of busyness.  The smells of charcoal and barbecue have replaced the winter odor of pinion burning in fireplaces. 

Red dirt, chalk, and grass will once again stain pants and jerseys.  The smell of worn leather, popcorn, and hot dogs will lift in stadiums across the country.  The pop of ball into glove, the crack of ball against bat, and the growl of the umpire’s voice will pierce the air.  Cheers and boos will roar from the crowds.  The taunting wink from batter to pitcher, the hand signals of the catcher, the touch of hand to cap, the windup, the release, and amazing dives in the outfield will all become familiar sights.  The loudspeakers will echo and the organ will play.  “God Bless America” will be sung in rough harmony during the stretch.  Replays of “Field of Dreams” will make way for live games.  The world has awakened from its winter!

It’s Spring folks!  You know what that means?  Baseball is back!

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A Picture Is Worth A Thousand Words

2012

“A picture is worth a thousand words.”  Really?  We’ve heard that one time and again, but is it true?  Of course in some ways a picture can convey things that may take many words to describe, but then again there is an immense amount of power in words or even in a single word.  If I offered the word “frigid” what images would it conjure within your mind?  Perhaps your imagination would take over and leave you with an image of snow being whipped by a winter wind.  Maybe your mind pictures a large, cold block of ice.  In some cases, one might suddenly see the profile of a particularly uppity individual?  Possibly it would send chills through your body and cause you to imagine sitting inside near the fire while that previously mentioned snowstorm rages outside your living room window.  One word that can send so many different messages to your brain; amazing isn’t it?

Not long ago I attempted to enter the Twitter age.  As I’m not big conversationalist, I spend more time reading the tweets of others than I do sending out my own tweets out into the world.  As I checked Twitter, I saw a tweet from Karen DeLabar.  Karen is one of many people I follow on Twitter.  Along with Susan Borath, Karen runs a site called Writing on the Rocks.  Writing on the Rocks is a book review site.  You can check it out at http://writingontherocks.com.

Karen’s tweet was: “What would you do-oo-ooo for a Klondike bar?”  Pretty simple, huh?  We’ve all heard the jingle thousands of times.  The next thing I know, I’ve got that jingle on my mind for hours.  I find myself whistling it at work.  Soon others have the same jingle on their minds.  You know how it goes; you play it over in your mind until it actually begins to aggravate you that you can’t get it off your mind.  After hours of trying to remove it from my thoughts, I had to tweet Karen back and thank her for offering that particular tweet.

But later on, I started to think about that jingle.  Karen didn’t hum it for me.  She didn’t send me a YouTube video of someone jumping up and down on a busy street to get a Klondike bar.  She merely tweeted a few simple words and the music immediately started playing in my head.  That’s the power of words.  They can bring to mind sounds, tastes, emotions, scents, or textures.  Writers use words to paint beautiful pictures, convey the feelings of their characters, or transport you to places you’ve never been.  The writer of that jingle used words to bring attention to the product.  You might think of a cool, creamy dessert or a polar bear like the one on the package.  You might think of people doing outrageous things to earn one of those tasty treats.

Words move us; they motivate us and they touch us.  They make us laugh out loud at stupid elephant jokes.  They bring a lump to our throats or tears to our eyes as they convey heartbreak.  They may cause our heart to race as we remember that first tender, touch of a kiss.  Words fill us with apprehension as the villain sneaks up on the hero.  Those words, along with the imaginative power of the human mind, allow us to experience and re-experience.

The mind is a powerful instrument, and it can take something as simple as a word and create images or trigger memories.  In my book, Loving Deacon, Emily’s words are powerful enough to change a man’s feelings and perspective.  By reminding Deacon of his role in the relationship; by helping him bring to the surface old memories; she leads him towards the discovery of the treasure which had remained elusive throughout their life together.

“What a marvelous thing exists in the human mind? It has the ability to block out entire segments of time, moments of pain which could otherwise torture the soul of an individual. It compiles and retains intricate pieces of information, and can recall them in their entirety… to the most infinite detail… triggering warm feelings which overwhelm the senses. Its information processing can involve the other senses in a way we can remember the sounds of a moment, the smells of an event, or the images of a person. When all other material or physical reminders are lost to us, we rely on our minds to bring them back again.” – Loving Deacon Our words impact others; whether it is in a creative work such as a book or a poem or in our personal conversations.  Tone and context change how a word is perceived.  We have the ability to make people feel good or bad with our words.  We can brighten a day with something as simple as “Hello.”  Use the power of your words to make a difference.  Say something silly or enlightening.  Bring a truth to light.  Tell a tale.  Remember that one word could be worth a thousand pictures, a million images, a multitude of sensations, or a myriad of emotions.

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