The Road Less Traveled

Manifold Blessings: A Christian Fable

2011-02-13T21:34:00.000-08:00

Manifold Blessings
A Christian Fable

...And they were all seated around the Throne. Can I have a witness? The four and twenty elders silently bade. Johnnie dared to stand. He had a testimony; he had a story to tell. As he found his feet under himself he realized that they were strong and that he was standing firm.
"The Lord has been good to me," Johnnie began. The arms of the fellow testifiers automatically rose in confirmation, as He had been good to them all...
Time reached back and found Johnnie standing in church. It was where he belonged. He was in his element. He stood boldly and raised up a determined hand. “Pastor, I have a word.”
Pastor never denied Johnnie the opportunity to speak. Sometimes it was challenging for the Pastor, as all could see though, as when Johnnie got to sharing about the goodness of God, he didn’t want to stop.
“I was taken up in a vision,” he would sometimes relay. Then he would go on to share what wonderful things the Lord had shown him. Or sometimes it would be, “The devil tried to take me out, but the Lord showed me that it wasn’t my time yet, and I’m not going anywhere!” It didn’t matter what Johnnie shared; it was going to be good! Johnnie was truly a man after God’s own heart.
Jan stood by Johnnie. Johnnie was her precious gift from the Lord. Johnnie was her treasure. Johnnie got really ill, and Jan loved him all the more. She gave up everything to be by his side. Johnnie never complained. Peace wrapped Johnnie up in its manifold blessings on Earth, and now peace flowed like a river, as Johnnie was a testament of the grace and the goodness of God in Heaven. There was no rush. There was no anxious shifting in seats, after-all, they had all the time that Eternity had to offer.
Martha listened to Johnnie’s account of how very loving and caring his sweet little Jan was, and was reminded of her own Gene. Gene of her youth. Gene even unto her old age. Gene who loved her and cared for her. Gene who gave of himself so selflessly for her. Gene, her gift from God. Gene, her treasure.
Martha wasn’t as quick to stand as Johnnie had been, but it was no wonder. She wasn’t shy to share what all the Lord had done for her, but to stand? She hadn’t been able to for so long now. She didn’t know if she could. All eyes were on her as it was her heart that cried the loudest to be heard. “You may stand in MY Holy Presence” a soft rumble drove her to her feet.
Martha stood amazed and was silent for the longest while. It felt so funny to have the weight on her tender feet. Before speaking Martha gently raised her arms in praise and adoration and turned herself around in a slow and fanciful twirl. She felt like a little girl. Free, she was finally free! Her crippled body had kept her down for so long, and now at long last, she was free!
The testimonies went on and on and none tired of hearing and sharing the goodness of God. The four and twenty elders knew how to throw a party! “Worthy is the Lamb” was the chorus that echoed before, during, and after all of the heartfelt testimonies of the redeemed souls, bought by the blood of the Lamb, about the immeasurable grace of God.
“Boy, and I thought that church was good!” Johnnie commented to Martha as they strolled together on the streets of gold. They were old friends from the time before their transformation and they were reminiscing.
“I’ll say! If only all could know the sights that we have seen!”
“And don’t forget how wonderful the presence of the living God is!” Johnnie exclaimed. He was just like a little boy; his heart was so full of joy.
“I never knew it would be like this,” Martha confessed. Johnnie listened intently. “Oh, sure, I believed in Heaven, but not like this. I’m overwhelmed by His goodness.”
“And saved by His grace.” Johnnie solemnly agreed. There was an awe in him that held him captivated. He could never have imagined that he would be so very fulfilled and content. Oh, sure, he was happy on Earth with Jan. She had doted over him and had always loved him dearly, but this was different. This was way different. Serenity was in every instance, in every sight, in every sound. Comfort embraced him, all around.
With Martha being the woman, she was the intuitive one. She looked around, concerned that her concern would be detected. No one seemed to be paying any attention to her less than serene thoughts. She leaned over to Johnnie and almost whispered, “They are so unhappy.”
No one had to tell Johnnie who ‘they’ were. How many nights had he considered the state of Jan? Too many to number. He knew that she had loved him, but he had never known how very much. As time went by and Jan cried and cried Johnnie had a longing to comfort her that reached beyond immortal bounds. “Can’t you do something about it?” He had petitioned the Lord out of desperation at her desolation. “My son, you need only know that I care. I have a path for Jan, and I will show her clearly.”
Johnnie could only watch and wait to see what that path was to be. Being part of the great cloud of witnesses that would be coming with the Lord kept Johnnie very busy, but never too busy to lift up his sweetheart and her plight to the Lord. “Touch my Jan Lord, and please Lord, heal her broken heart.” Even though he had been promoted when he left his earthly life to be a General in the Lord’s Army, still, Johnnie always had time for his darling.
“They are so all alone.” Martha continued.
Johnnie patted a little boy gently on his back as he skipped by, determined to ‘catch a butterfly’, and looked intently at Martha. “You really loved him, didn’t you?”
“With all of my heart. He’s a good man.”
“He is a good man,” Johnnie agreed. He knew for a fact that what Martha had said was true.
“Why should two such terribly nice people have to be alone?” Martha just couldn’t understand. Both who had dedicated all of their lives to another were now both alone, and lonely.
“She would never consider another.” Johnnie stated frankly. He knew that he owned Jan’s heart. Every inch that wasn’t filled with Jesus had his name all over it.
“Gene only knows me.” Martha stated with a gleam of pride in her eyes. So many years, and Gene had been faithful only to her. He stood so strong by her side, she who was crippled, she who was weak. He would not look for another.
“There’s just no way.” Johnnie heard himself say. The instant he spoke it was the instant that the Lord joined the two in their secret surmising.
“All things are possible.” The Great I AM tenderly declared. “If only you believe. I AM here, and I AM able.”
“But how?” Martha dared to question, as Johnnie stood in quiet wonder.
“I will make a way where there is no way. I will make the crooked places straight. I will plant a seed of humor, and I will water it with wit. I will take understanding and wrap it around the sorrow and therewith form a bond that will bloom graciously into love.”
“They will love again?” Martha smiled at the thought. “Really? Love again?”
“They will love like they’ve never known.” The gracious loving Father of love professed to his two incredulous children. “They will love each other.”
“Each other?” Martha worded the strange possibility. She could never have imagined! Each other!
“Jan and Gene?” Johnnie voiced, testing how it felt to him. The thought was strange, but so soothing. “Jan and Gene.” He stated again, only to feel even more drawn into the possibility.
“You could do that?” Martha asked, more than willing that Gene would have even half of the rest to his soul that she was experiencing in the ever-caring presence of God. “You could do that for them?”
“I can, and I will.” The voice of infinite wisdom relayed. “I take it you approve?”
“Father, you know everything.” Johnnie humbly replied. “My soul You know right well.”
“And you my child?” The eyes of the Lord now rested intently upon Martha. His beloved Martha. His faithful servant, His precious child.
“As You will,” Martha peacefully surrendered to the Lord’s bidding. “How could I not trust Your judgment? You’ve always taken such good care of me. I want nothing but Your very best for Gene. I love Jan, she was a good friend to me, and I know that she cared about me. I am glad that Gene will love Jan also.”
“It is finished.” The Lord stated and even as He did so, a flitter of hope landed on Jan’s hurting heart as she smiled at a man she barely knew, but was tickled to know better, he was so funny and witty and bright.
And Jan and Gene stood heart to heart, as they vowed their love, at their blessed new start. The wedding of Jan was the wedding of Gene and the joy of the whole earth. Heaven rejoiced along with them as Johnnie and Martha prepared their own hearts to partake in another great gathering around the merciful throne room of God.

Audrey Semprun
Joyful Noiz Ministries
12/5/2005
Based on a true story. Jan and Gene were married this past Saturday. Johnnie was my buddy, and Martha was my friend. Jan is my best friend, and now I too look forward to getting to know Gene better.

My First E-Book is now Available!

2010-07-08T21:41:00.000-07:00

EVEN IN SILENCE, THE JOURNEY OF A LADY PREACHER is my first E-Book. I am actually executing my publishing plan! But not without a step or two backwards first... It was easier to create my Rogue Rose blog site than it is to grasp the reality of letting go of a hard fought for dream of having my work published by someone in the 'accepted' publishing industry. Oh, how determined I was when I was creating that blog! "... not looking back ..." I best remember that a double minded man is unstable in all of his ways!!!

And a good report! I have my first comtestants for my First Annual Rogue Bud Writing Competition! Except for one of them sent me a query instead of an essay telling me why I should publish their work... I've been getting good traffic at my blog, but not a whole lot of entries!!! Go figure! I'm a nice lady, and I'll do a good job for whoever ends up winning the competition!

The E-Book is in PDF format. I'm going to check out Kindle and see if it supports it... I know that I-Pad has its own format, but I've chose not to go through the changes of learning how to do the formatting. From what I've read I want to just keep it simple. Maybe down the road I can experiment, but not now. First I have to continue to educate myself about E-Books and protecting my copy rights... I guess if someone wants to run off with this memoir then it's pretty much a 'free' target. I'll know a whole lot more before I even consider releasing my novels. I have to find out about the ISBN numbers and all of that 'legal' stuff that I have to do before I can actually distribute my books... Ah, so much to do, and so little time (or energy) to do it!!!

Anyway, I'm one step closer to actually carrying out my massive marketing plan! I hope that my writing contest is a good distraction, and while I'm at it, I hope that it brings some awareness of my writing and publishing worthiness and capabilities!!!

After I told my daughter that I've gone rogue she asked a very pointed question: "Where's the money going to come from?" "Oh, yeah," I told her... "That part..."

Expect a Miracle!

2010-06-27T17:48:00.001-07:00

See this puppy? He was born on a sidewalk and when his owner found him he was still and lifeless. She didn't give up on him: She willed the little guy back to life! And then she got to enjoy him running around under her feet for about three months. He was nice and strong and happy. Then he got sick and he died. It was a sad day, but the joy that he brought in his short little life was immeasurable. He was a miracle that will never be forgotten. He was so cute. In another picture that I took I held him in the palm of my hand; so much like how the Lord holds us in the palm of His hand... Except for my hand is small and my strength finite. Unlike the Lord's hand which is my strong tower, and His strength infinite!!!

Knowing that the Lord holds me in His hand gives me a strength that runs eternal. Even when failures and disappointments come, I know that the Lord watches over me. In Isaiah it states that He has graven me in the palms of His hands, and that my walls are continually before Him. In that I have hope amongst the heartaches and the pain that this life sometimes throws at me.

I saw that little building again in my travels. The one that I spoke of in my last post. The one that looked like it might be a church. It is a Church! I pulled up in front of it and looked in the window. I counted twelve chairs. And there was a little plaque in the window. It said, "Expect a Miracle!" What a testimony! There was a pastor's name and a time for a Sunday morning service and even a time for a Wednesday night service! Someone has a vision and they aren't letting misfortune or inopportunity stop them! They are pressing on, in spite of the storm!!!

And that's exactly what I intend on doing! I'm going to press on with my writing and I'm going to continue on in the direction that I have found myself. It's not a direction that I would have chosen, or even believed that I would ever seriously go, but here I am, and here I go!

Today on Joel Osteen he was saying how the Lord gives us just enough grace for a day. Just like the manna in the wilderness, he went on to say. Just enough for a day... And for today I am believing that the Lord has His hand on my ministry and that He will direct my every step.

I'm sponsoring a writing contest that may never take off. I've yet to see one entry. I'll keep promoting it and I'll see what happens. The worst case scenario is that I won't have to go through all of the trouble that it takes to get a manuscript into book form. It's not an easy process, nor does it come without mega effort and time consumption! I'm willing to invest the time, but not the concern!!! I'd like to follow through with it for my co-worker Joel, but if it doesn't happen it's not because I wasn't willing or that I didn't try!

I'll just leave it in the Lord's hands and believe for the grace to get through one more day. One more day of obscurity. One more day of my double life. I jokingly state that my work is my 'real' life, and that my writing is my 'secret' life. And sometimes these days my secret life has been spilling over into my real life... But in all reality, it's really my secret life that is my real life. I have a call on my life to share the goodness of the Lord. I have a call to proclaim our liberty in Christ. I have a call to minister to the broken hearted and to bring hope to the hopeless. I have a call to take His Word to all the world... I also have a call to believe. To believe in His perfect timing. To believe in His keeping power. To believe in His grace.

Dark Sky Bird

2010-02-22T21:29:00.000-08:00

Just seeing this picture reminds me of earlier today and evokes raw emotion, but not nearly so raw as this afternoon. I was driving through a mild, but very active, snow storm. I was safe and I was warm.

I saw a bird in the dark and snowy sky. A dark bird. He was flying with all of his might against the wind. Like that old song, Running against the wind... But I'm older now. And that bird. He was so alone. Surely so cold. So desperate. He was fighting with everything within him to fly in that cold dark sky. What compelled him? Where was his family? I've never felt such desolation for a creature as I did for that solitary bird. All I could think was how badly I wanted him not to be so cold, so beat up, so all alone. From what I had witnessed I had to wonder if what he was fighting for was his very life. As he pressed himself forward, I could see that it was all that he could do to gain any ground at all. Don't birds hide in trees in foul weather? Yes, I know they do.

And then up the road a couple of miles the wind subsided. The snow stopped. The sky was clear again. And I wondered if that bird had found any relief from the elements, or was he still in the midst of his struggles?

And then on my way back down that same highway I saw this old rickety building. Not unlike an old fashioned school house; the kind that you see sitting out on any given prarie, abandoned with time and age. And there was a small sign that caught my eye as I traved on down the road which read, Lutheran Church.

Can you imagine the struggle of a 'church' that is the size of an old fashioned one room school house? A Church? How many could possibly be in the Congregation? What kind of finances could possibly be generated? Surely there would be no room for prosperity there. Surely there would be no room for growth either.

And so I witness the struggles as I effortlessly drive down the highway. In doing so I have to contemplate the trials that cross my own path. The little things that provoke me. The petty things that make me cross. The perplexing things that leave me frustrated.

Was there a remedy for the wind-crossed bird? Did he find a place of sanctuary? Is there really a church in that tiny little building? Will they one day break out the walls with their building fund and reach a respectable fifty? Will I be still and know that God is God? Will I find my own sanctuary?

This Road I Travel

2010-02-06T15:01:00.000-08:00

When as oft
This road I travel
Comes to highways
Byways far -
Off the beaten path
Treading upon places still tender
It does me well to remember
I've miles to go
Before I sleep.

Surely I borrowed a line or two. Not really original. Not special. Not anything really. Just serving a purpose, but not even sure what.

Today was not so victorious. Yesterday a time to rest. Now the day before, that was memorable. I was finally able to pen my last short story for ON A RAMBLE. I can now organize it and bring it to print, without permission or apologies... This one's mine. I have a definite marketing plan and I look forward to seeing what I can do. This book is mostly fun. I've stretched my imagination and I'm happy with where that imagination has taken me. I wrote a forward for the book today. It's called, Sorting Socks. It was cathartic. Don't know if I'll use it. Could cause legal concerns that I'll have to weigh. Makes me tired to think that I could end up in court, but it has happened. Not righteously mind you, but happened just the same. No matter. More weighty things to share. Ah, what the hey? Who's reading this blog anyway? Maybe it won't make it into the book, but here's for giggles.

"Sorting Socks"

Writing upon writing. Layer upon layer.

To whom is given much, much is required.

So I write Christian novels; issue-based, Christian novels.

But what do I do when faced with real issues in my own life?

What do I do when I'm 'assaulted' week after week by someone who is blatantly threatening my relationship with my own husband? What do I do when that same entity turns the whole situation back on me - to save her own reputation and I'm politely thrown out of church?

And how, pray tell, can a nice Christian woman be politely thrown out of church?

Enough said. Need I say more? Dis-owning my own hurt, my own emotions, my own feelings was my only recourse.

"Forgiveness," my new Pastor says, you know the one; the one that I don't really know, the one that doesn't know me - Like the other - in a way, 'cause if he knew me - I mean the real me - then he'd still be my Pastor... "Forgiveness comes when you stop carrying around and sharing all that pain; that baggage. No one wants to hear about it."

No one wants to hear about it. So I write. In circles. Watching the blood and the gore innocently circling the drain and washing away. Ah, the grace of metaphor.

2/5/10
Anonymous (:

This short story will not end the book, but it was a goal that I had set for myself as a pre-requisite to completing the book. I guess because I just had to make it to the End - to the Victory - To the Prize!!! It speaks for itself.

"I Won!"

I handed off the baton today. I hadn’t even seen it coming! I have been running this race for so long now. I never dreamed that I had run my race – I had finished my course!

I handed over my pregnant pack of papers – no great relief there! How many sets of the same thing were in that stack? At least two – in many instances three… But that wasn’t the worst of it. Those papers meant something to me. They were the medical records and Social Security records of a lifetime – not my lifetime – but my daughter’s. In them was the first award letter. Yes, my daughter really was disabled.

But really, did I need an award letter to tell me that? Hadn’t the first six years of her life taught me that she was different? But so much more than different.

I would never have even considered applying for Social Security for a child. I had never heard of such a thing. And then even after applying I never really expected anything to come of it – in fact – nothing did – claim denied. I moved on. Then came the letter. New law. Re-apply the letter advised. Having nothing to lose, I did. Won the case. Pockets full of back pay – a new start – help with raising the children!

Cruised along, raising the girl as best as I knew how. Received a new letter. My daughter was officially no longer disabled! Somebody had overturned that new law… Funny – or not so – she was still the same little girl – you know the one – the one that I had toted from doctor to doctor for as long as I could remember. I’m afraid I had to beg their pardon. No longer disabled? Nothing had changed – except for the issues that we dealt with when she was just a little girl grew with her…

“You can’t win a Social Security case,” I was told one person after the other. “You just do your part, and I’ll do mine.” And somehow I coaxed person after person for that letter, that report, that next vital piece of paper. I put together all of my ‘evidence’ and submitted. Won the case!

The next time that Social Security determined that my daughter was no longer disabled I wasn’t able to intercede for her. I had to let it go – it was out of my hands.

Finally the day came where I was allowed to once again take the baton and run the race that I had begun so long ago – that race I was talking about – the one that I have completed.

Applied. Denied. Appealed. Not quite denied – delayed. Denied. Appealed.

Did I say sought council? Out the gate couldn’t get council. Middle of appeal – couldn’t get council.

When I received the letter from the Appeals Council, stating that the Judge had to look at the case again I was able to secure council!

The assistant to my daughter’s new Attorney was sure to tell her how amazing it was that her Mom has gotten a review of her case. Me – Mom – I’m feeling like the ladies’ being nice to me. But then when the lawyer himself complimented me on a job well done I was pleasantly surprised.

But I wasn’t done. There were stacks of papers sitting there – needing addressed. There were the medical forms that needed signed – not the legal assistant’s forms – which were important too – but the ones I brought… And what about waiting for at least a couple of weeks for the request so they’ll be more complete?

And then the most important detail – the Judge had made his ruling based on the report of what we have come to call, “The fifteen-minute man.”

That’s when it happened. It was so unexpected. So welcome.

“Can’t we get a copy of the court transcript?” I asked. Desperate to get the point across.

“We won’t be able to get that. It won’t happen. It’s over. You won.”

A reality check.

I won?

Wow!

The Judge has been ordered back to court. And that baton? It’s in skilled hands now.

Audrey Semprun
Joyful Noiz Ministries
©
02/03/10

Stop, Drop, and Roll

2010-01-08T21:44:00.000-08:00

So, how did Molly end up at my new job? In a way it was good – well – kind of. A relief is more like it! That new job – an office job no less – sure can be a challenge! I was thinking that those old dirty days were behind me. Boy, was I wrong!
It started out okay enough. Had to exchange an oxygen concentrator. And after the change-out up over the barn I should have been in ‘heads up’ mode. But I wasn’t. At least the barn lady was changing companies and I didn’t have to tote off her old equipment. Not that setting her up was all that fun though! Good thing it wasn’t a rainy day!
I get to the property where the barn lady hangs out and she met me. “My place is back here,” she tells me as I lift up the twenty-five to thirty pound concentrator out of the van, set it down briefly, and then heft the thing from the pavement across the dirt patch onto a slab of cement. I had to be sure not to get the thing’s wheels all gummed up in the dirt.
The two ‘junk yard’ dogs were barking all crazy at me and I’m sure they would have eaten me if they had gotten loose! I tried to ignore them as I stared at the stairs – a full flight up no less! Right up and over the barn! And she tells me, “Just take them a few at a time.” A few at a time! Was she out of her mind? There’s no way that I could actually carry that big and bulky box up the stairs! And what stairs they were! Wooden steps with a sturdy, but thin, rail. I was surprised that they were firm and secure as I tackled the first step with a thump. I stepped up behind the box and that’s how I did it. Thump, bump, step; thump, bump, step until I got to the landing. It was small, but also secure and I was glad. I left the oxygen machine on the small porch and headed back down the stairs for the bottles and cart and paperwork – always the paperwork! I remember how long it used to take me to get through all of the red tape! It still takes a lot of time, just not quite so much…
The closest dog sniffs the big metal bottle as I pass him by on my way back up the stairs. He’s not happy, but at that point neither was I! I’m not much for all of that physical exertion! After-all, hadn’t I finally gotten to that coveted place of being ‘office material’? And with a title no less! Patient Care Coordinator! Ain’t that a hoot? Told my supervisor that it’d look good on a Resume. She just looked at me funny. Go figure! Started out as Customer Service Representative, but that job went away. In this economy I’m fortunate to have been offered a different position. I hate it when I’m not feeling appreciative, but I hate it when I’m feeling like a pack mule too!
But the worst of it? It was having to pass through this full door-sized screen – to keep the horse flies out, I guess. That thing was just hanging there all tattered and scraggly and when I went through it with my hands pre-occupied with carrying this concentrator (that I was more than done with) over the threshold, the creepy thing brushed against my head and I could feel it disheveling my hair! I hate to have my hair messed up! The worst I can ever remember was at Disneyland. I was watching – just watching – mind you – the kids on a ride when this huge spray – no not spray – this fire-hose like stream of water came out from no where and not only trashed my hair, but bothered my ear pretty good too… Talk about Grumpy! But that was after my sister had made me aware of my age! But that’s a totally different story, and even I can’t tolerate another rabbit trail with the one that I’m on!
Anyway, a person would think that I’d learn that when picking up an old concentrator I can be sure that they missed the part of the instruct that told them to clean the filters on the sides of the equipment at least once every couple of weeks! And after bumping one over a crack in the sidewalk only to find myself being ‘attacked’ by human dust gone wild I’d know how ‘volatile’ those nasty things can be!
I showed up for the exchange but was stopped cold at the front door as I was assaulted by the stench of cigarette smoke. And yes, I am a recovering cigarette addict! I’m in a constant state of recovery with no relapse in sight as just the smell of smoke closes my vocals… So I tell the guy, “I hope you’re not smoking in the same room as the oxygen!” And again before I left, “Don’t be smoking with that oxygen around – you’ll burn your face up.”
“Yeah,” he says, “I already done that once – I have sleep apnea.” Go figure!
And that concentrator! Dust waste galore!
The next day in the work room there’s this funky stink. A concentrator is running. It’s getting prepped for cleaning/analyzing/and redistribution.
There was no doubt in my mind that this here was going to be a dirty deed – that’s when I reckon that Molly took over. She is learning – that girl – about self-preservation! She gets a box of them there face-safety-masks and grabs one out. Puts it on her face – stretches the bands around her head and wonders if she looks like a space-cadet, or what. She bends down and grabs that filthy – never been changed – filter and her eyes go all fuzzy. You know, like when your face mask gets steamed up when you’re swimming – and she wonders what life will be like if that goes on – eyeballs steaming up and all!
Well, me, I discovered that she had my glasses on! Whew! Good thing!
And the Stop, Drop, and Roll? That’s what I, we, me, has to do when I’m, we’re, Molly-me, are on call. Stop what we’re doing. Drop everything. Roll on down the road! What a job!
And just to be sure that I’m for real get this one… Here I am at the hospital tonight and I’m delivering a cane. A simple cane. How hard can that be? Well, this cane is wrapped in this way over-sized plastic bag and I can’t for the life of me get the cane out! The client is off getting an x-ray and the husband is sitting there as I struggle with the bag and the captured cane. I must have looked like an idiot and I did what any normal, red-blooded American would do! I blamed it on my alter-ego! Out of my mouth – honest – I says, “I guess Molly showed up for this one.”
The guy just looks at me. I tried to clean it up by saying innocently enough, “I’m Audrey. Molly is my alter-ego.”
And the guy says as equally innocent and unobtrusive, “Yeah, just don’t let the doctor hear you say that.”
I just laughed and didn’t bother trying to explain.

Unwrapping the Gift of Metaphor

2009-09-20T11:48:00.000-07:00

It’s not always convenient to just say what you are thinking, nor is it prudent, and yet sometimes things just need to be said, and not simply for the saying of the thing, but for the release of the thought or opinion or emotion.

That’s where the use of the imagination comes in like a flood – a water-spout of ideas reaching out and in and through all of the well-structured barriers of protocol and propriety, tearing down walls and overflowing the senses.

Pick up your pen and let down your defenses and let creativity carry you over the edge and into new realms of possibility.

My imagination and I, we have been buddies for as long as I can remember. I met her first as a small child. We’d play together for hours on end. My mother knew her as my imaginary friend. I just knew her as Cathy.

It wasn’t a form of madness, I was just thinking – always thinking. I still think – but mostly it’s not the same as before – before I understood that I couldn’t hurt a tree’s feelings – But have I really come that far? It still hurts me to pluck a leaf from a tree, or to trample a flower underfoot. Something inside of me still believes that they can feel…

And maybe that’s the root of boundless possibilities, because if a person can credit the right of each entity as a viable existence then the vastness of the Universe becomes explore-able, and no matter how great or how small, reachable.

The art of telling a good story centers upon the writer’s willingness to get in the trenches, and it doesn’t stop with getting your hands dirty. You have to be willing to sink deep into the mire with the idea and search it out. You’ve got to dig deeper than you can see, and be willing to take chances. Who knows what might be down in that great abyss of the unexplored, the unknown?

And what if you don’t like what you find there? Are you willing to go the distance, to run that extra mile? Are you willing to have your heart filleted and served on a platter when your ideas aren’t embraced?

I have been crafting a book for the past couple of years, exploring the different avenues that have wandered in and out of my creative highway which has led me to this detour, this pleasant by-way. In my book, “ON A RAMBLE, On a Bright and Sunny Day: Mostly True Stories: Including, Creepy, Creepy, Spider” I have stepped outside of the box, I have let my mind have a picnic, and I have let my creative juices flow. I’ve been open to the ridiculous, and I have enjoyed myself thoroughly. But mostly what I have done is I have discovered creative freedom. I’ve embraced the improbable and found myself wed to the impossible.

I offer three stories. Woven tightly within them a reality brews like a storm, with a resolution as gentle as a fresh and healing rain.

“GIT!”

“If that dog keeps sniffing around my front door I’m going to scratch his eyes out!”

“Spuds! That is so not nice!”

Now what possessed my cat to talk – I do not know, but something must be bothering him. He use to be normal – well – somewhat – kind of – okay – not normal – but at least he wasn’t out and out gabbing at me!

Oh, all right! No, I’m not hearing voices – but I tell you – if that cat could talk he sure would be! He’s been hissing all around the house and bearing his sharp little claws like there’s no tomorrow.

And I’m telling you right now, it’s not my fault! I didn’t move that hussy and her mutt into the apartment across the way! Oh sure, there’s a huge patio between us, but does that scrawny little dog know that? Apparently not! She and all of her fleas are constantly underfoot and in my space. Rubbing herself up against me like I care. And then I have to face the wrath of Spuds – ‘cause you know – he ain’t no dummy. He can see when a predator is trying to squeeze into his space.

We got boundaries you know! Places another animal should not go. Spuds smells that ‘may as well be a stray’ on me and he’s through the roof! And I have to live with him!

Just like that guy over at the market. I offered to shake his hand and he may as well have grabbed me the way that he got right in my space and practically pulled me into him – well – not exactly into him – ‘cause you know – I’m a big girl. I stiff-armed him and kept him well at full arm’s length!

“I don’t shake hands,” he tells me. “I give hugs.”

Is that right? I’m thinking – but not real cottony. No, no warm fuzzies going on at all. And I’ll not be offering a hand shake to him again – ever! No, all that man will get from me is a side-ways glance and a brisk step in the other direction!

I loved Psychology in school. I can see it now, ‘Molly Picket, Doctor of Psychology!’ ‘Cause I get it! We people, and cats too, have this little circle. It’s our comfort zone. And no, I’m not talking about inappropriate touchy feely; but that most certainly is included! I’m talking about our ‘safe space’ – that space that surrounds our whole being that is ours alone – only to be crossed into by ‘invitation only’!

When you go marching around unwelcome and uninvited you are crunching on some pretty big toes! You know – like the shameless stray – more of the woman sort – who goes prancing all around at all of the parties chatting up all the husbands like she has any business! Not wise, that one!

Spuds, he gets mad just smelling that old dog has been coming around! You don’t want to be crossing a woman! Let alone a whole room full of them! Talk about scratching eyes out! I bet that’s where the first woman ever got a notion of stoning someone to death! You know – like when you pick up a rock and throw it hard as you can at that there dog that you’ve asked kindly to go away.

By the time you pick up that rock you ain’t asking! No siree! You are telling! “Get out of my space!” And not in a little while either – or if you please! No sir! “I mean now!”

And then them there women – they gather up their little chil’ren, put their bonnets back on their little noggins, grab a-hold of their fellers hand, and march right into their future: Leaving the intruder in the dirt and shaking the dust off of their dainty little feet, and then hang a sign on their doors, “Peace to all who enter here.”

I think I’ll get a spray bottle and discourage any more unwelcome advances from that hussy’s mutt. Seems it would be a whole less violent than a rock! It says in The Good Book to get along with everyone ‘As much as it is within you’. And if I go killing that dog I don’t ‘spose’ my new neighbor would take too kindly to that! Now Spuds, I’m thinking, he wouldn’t mind – no – not at all!

Ancient Chinese Proverb:
“It is better to be the hammer than the anvil.”

Necessary Changes

“Oh my word! I can’t find Spuds. I’ve looked everywhere!”
“Everywhere? Have you?”
“You know I have.”
“Not everywhere.”
“What do you mean? You know I have. Everywhere.”
“I don’t think so.”
“I think I saw him. In the street. I slowed down. I didn’t want to look. I looked hard. ‘It could be him’, I thought frantically. ‘It couldn’t be him’, I thought even more frantic. Not Spuds! I got home – searched everywhere – but he was gone.”
“So you’ve given up?”
“What if it was him?”
“What if it was him?”
“What do you mean?”
“He’s a cat, isn’t he?”
“Well, yeah, but what’s that got to do with anything?”
“It’s got everything to do with anything. It’s the nine lives thing. You can’t give up on him.”
“You think so?”
“I know so.”

And so there you have it. Me and my little pea brain, once we got done thinkin’ I got to thinkin’, outside of the box, you know – thinkin’ about all them there possibilities.
So I quit the giving up part, you know, the deep dark depression, excessive misery – and went back to lookin’. Maybe I hadn’t looked everywhere after all…

I dug my feet in and looked here and there – high and low – and then I finally did what any true blooded American would do – I went to the Pound. I guess I had been avoiding there. But who could blame me? I didn’t want to be around all of those loud and barking dogs. Hadn’t that been where it had all started in the first place?
I told Spuds that I had no interest in that scrawny old neighbor’s dog – but the more it came around, the madder Spuds would get. I told it to git, but did that mutt listen? I knew Spuds was mad that morning, but I didn’t expect him to dart between my feet when I opened the front door! I knew he was heading after that blasted dog! Where did he go? Where else could I go? So here I am – right smack in the midst of a whole kennel full of dogs – to look for my cat! But do you think they could have a kitty kennel? No – just a place for cats – you know – in the back!

Meanwhile on the deep, dark, Spuds side of town –

“Look at me. She’ll never find me.”
“Sure she will. She has to. She loves you.”
“But look at me. She’ll never recognize me – not after all I’ve been through – not now.”
“She’ll find you.”
“But how?”
“Here. Now.”

And it was true! There she was! Spuds could see her! His human was coming to rescue him! Should he stand? Should he sit quietly? How would she know it was him? So much had changed – everything had changed. But still he felt the same towards her. It wasn’t her fault that he was there. Wasn’t her fault he had gotten so angry. As he considered it, he really couldn’t blame himself either. He knew that now – and Lord knew he had plenty of time to think! He had been provoked! By that dog!

A deep sadness overtook Spuds and he bowed his head down as he considered that other ‘dogs’ fate.

He had ran out the door, just like Molly said. And he went straight over to that mutt’s door. He saw it laying there on its people’s porch. And Spuds confronted the enemy! And when they got face to face, let me tell you, it was not pretty! Talk about role-reversals! In a life-altering – forever even – changing way!
That dog stood up, and all of its hair stood straight up! It hissed out at Spuds and jumped up in the air, barring its claws and started chasing Spuds!

And let me tell you! Spuds had no choice but to turn tail and run! There was no way that he was going to have any part in that cat fight!

And then it happened. Spuds ran out into the street with that cat hot on his tail and splat! Flat cat!

It was as if it had been a dream – or more like a nightmare. Spuds stood safely on the other side as he watched Molly drive by. And that dead dog? It was the splat cat! And there Spuds stood – dogged! How could he go home? He had no home. He had no identity. Everything that he had ever been lay there dead in the street.

Molly walked right past Spuds – but who wouldn’t? All she could hear or see was the desolation – the whining. She didn’t want to hear it – couldn’t begin to understand the heartache, the despair. She shut the sound out and went to a better place, a quieter place, and looked for Spuds amongst the cats.

“He’s not here.” Molly bemoaned.

She considered adopting a stray cat, but her heart just wasn’t in it.

‘Maybe a puppy.’ She felt like a traitor. But she had come to the last resort and had not found her friend.

She dared a look at a set of sad eyes. ‘Take me home’ they begged as the lost and lonely dog moaned. Molly understood his despair, but couldn’t help him. She knew that they would be miserable together. Two sad and lonely souls. No – that would never do. No, she needed more – a spark – some hope…

The next one barked excitedly. Molly thought to consider him, but then caught sight of, after wind, and decided against such a bountiful challenge.

Spuds didn’t know how to beg. He didn’t even consider his new-found bark. All that he could do was what he had always done – he sat up straight and tall and he just watched. He knew that she would pass him by, but he would keep his dignity. He would not fuss. He would not beg.

Molly went to pass him by, but something compelled her to stop. And she did stop, right in front of him. He couldn’t believe it.

“See me! Notice me!” His eyes searched Molly’s. “I want to come home!”

Molly heard Spud’s heart’s cry. She bent down on her knees and looked him eye to eye.

“Spuds?”

The little dog lifted himself from his hopeless despair and wagged his little tail.

Lamentations 3:22 It is because of the Lord’s mercies that we are not consumed, because his compassions fail not

Reconciliation

Molly was worried about Spuds. He just wasn’t the same – the transfiguration from a cat to a dog was monumental, but it was more than that. If Molly didn’t know better she’s swear that Spuds was depressed.

But not everything was bad – like getting rid of the cat box, now that was a huge plus! Spuds had sat quietly by while Molly had headed out the door with it for the last time. He sure wouldn’t miss that! Nor would he miss the humiliation he had to endure daily when Molly would without complaint dispose of his deposits. What freedom! And the great out doors! He was no longer a ‘closet cat’ but one of the neighborhood dogs! He had a tiny back yard that he found great dignity in soiling his own little corner – and better yet – Molly cleaned up after him while he napped inside…

But still, Spuds was restless. The truth of the matter was that Spuds couldn’t get that last day as a cat out of his mind. He couldn’t forget how sick he felt seeing that dog dead in the street. The memories haunted him. But Spuds put on like everything was okay by him. Man’s best friend! What more could a guy want?

But Molly, she loved Spuds too much to leave him that way. Molly started watching “The Dog Doctor” religiously. She was determined to help Spuds to transition into his new world.

After about a week of being inundated with doggie data the light finally came on. Now Molly, everyone knows, that girl’s candle don’t always burn that bright – but when Molly gets it, she’s got it! She finally realized what was missing! Off to work she went with a skip in her step. She’d stop by the Park View Dog Dealer on her way home and purchase the equipment.

She made her selections carefully. She was mindful not to get too much length on the lead – no one needs enough rope to hang themselves! And the collar – The Dog Doctor said to keep it simple. Not too much glamour, and those spikes? Leave those cheap tricks for the bulldogs!

Molly gathered up the purchases and headed home humming, “How much is that doggie in the window?” And even caught herself adding the classic, “Ruff, Ruff” Oh, I do hope that doggie’s for sale… On with the whimsy, and telling her age… Author included.

Spuds met Molly at the door. Boy, how their relationship had changed! He could still remember how stand-offish and aloft he had been before. But now, now he was as much a fool for her company as any dog could be!

Molly was happy to see how much Spud’s attitude had improved. It was getting pretty hard to miss the cat…

“Hi boy,” she cooed as she scratched behind his ears. Spuds about lost his balance as he wagged his little tail. So much for dignity! He couldn’t help it – it felt so good! Some things never change!

“Look what I got you.” Molly beamed. Spuds looked at the gifts and wasn’t too certain what to think about them.

‘That thing’s going to choke me’ Spuds wasn’t as convinced as Molly was that this ‘taking a walk’ thing was such a great plan. But then when he actually had the collar on he realized that Molly had done him just fine. It wasn’t too light or heavy – it was just right! Now the leash – that could have been longer – but the idea of having her strutting around showing him off was quite attractive! Yes – Spuds was pretty certain that he could do this!

Molly didn’t know what to expect. All of this was new to her too. And she hadn’t forgotten Spuds darting through her legs and out the door – it was the last time that she saw her kitty… But as she looked down at the precious little dog that Spuds had become she couldn’t’ help but smile. The same deep, dark eyes – The same multi-colored coat – Yes – Spuds was Spuds, there weren’t no doubt about it!

“Come on boy, let’s check this out.”

And Spuds, he wasn’t no puppy. He didn’t need to run, he weren’t in no hurry. And so off they went, the two of them, leash and collar and all, off on their new adventure.

They weren’t three steps out the door when Spuds looked over to where that neighbor’s dog liked to hang out, on its front porch, you know, when it wasn’t all up and hanging around Molly!

“Just let it drop.” Spuds chided himself. What good would it do bringing it all up anyway? Spuds knew he couldn’t unwind time – couldn’t not be angry, couldn’t un-flat the cat…

His happy patter had quickly dulled to a lagging lethargy. He never meant for any of it to happen. And then it happened. The unthinkable, the impossible, the unbelievable! The flat cat, it was back! And not splat! Not even a cat! The neighbor’s dog came strolling along, looking at the new mutt in town!

Spuds couldn’t help it – he was beside himself! If he hadn’t first been a cat he would have gone right over and sniffed that dog – no – not this dog – but Spuds sure was a happy camper! Dog not dead? Oh, happy day!

“But how?” Spuds looked to something greater than himself. “I saw him. I saw him there. Dead in the street. There ain’t no way he was getting up – no way!”

“Was it a dog you saw? A dog you saw I say, lying in the street?”

“No, a cat. A definitely flat, a definitely splat cat.”

“Remember how you felt like you were out of your body?”

Spuds vividly recalled how he had felt standing there – surreal – watching the nightmare unfold.

“You were out of your body.”

“Out of my body?”

“In the street – crow’s meat.”

“No, not me.”

“You.”

Spuds stopped cold in his tracks. He looked up at Molly and over at the neighbor’s dog who had found his way to his resting place on his front porch.

“It was me. But why did I think – ”

“You had too; else it would have been too much for you. You would have given up before Molly could find you.”

“Yeah, well, I still ain’t gonna cotton up to that old dog sniffin’ around Molly.”

“Oh yeah? You keep him in his place, but at least live in peace.”

Spuds took another look at the ‘threat’ who was now sound asleep. Maybe that old dog hadn’t wanted nothin’ to do with Molly all along…

Spuds straightened up his back and set his face towards their future. He smiled in his own little way as he mused, “Grrrr.”

Proverbs 24:16 partial: A just man may fall seven times, but rises up again

Sweet Apple Pie

2009-08-30T20:35:00.000-07:00

Sweet Apple Pie
Baked in Goodness
The Apple of God’s Eye

When God says that He has set His love upon us, can we really even begin to fathom what that means? I’ve been going through a time of adversity like none other than I have ever before experienced. I’d like to say that I have been a great and valiant warrior. I cannot. The truth is, I’ve been beat up and trampled down pretty good. Instead of standing strong and fighting that good fight of faith I have been whipped on every side. I struggled for strength and hope. I’d grasp for old familiar scriptures like, ‘cast down, but not forsaken’, wonderful little tokens of my well established belief system, but found no comfort in them. The words just seemed to belong to someone else, somewhere else, and not to me.

Draw near to God. That has been the anchor that keeps on pulling my spirit back to Him. Draw near to God. Not on my own strength, but on His. Draw near to God, and He will draw near to you. Draw near to God and He will reveal Himself and His goodness to you.

It wasn’t that I was running from God. I was running from my adversary. But where could I hide? It’s no wonder that the scriptures that tell us that we can be cast down, but not forsaken are intertwined with the rest of the story: “We are troubled on every side, yet not distressed; we are perplexed, but not in despair; Persecuted, but not forsaken; cast down but not destroyed.” (II Corinthians 4:8,9) As I consider it, the scripture that I grasped for I had a bit wrong, but while I was going through all of these challenges I really don’t think I would have received, ‘but not destroyed’ very well. I felt pretty destroyed. Even still, even while I felt pretty destroyed emotionally, still there was this light inside of me shining a truth that I could not deny. I’ve felt pretty devastated, but never forsaken. There’s no one or anything that can convince me that I have been separated from the love of God!

And so I continue on, and more and more the Lord is sending in the Troops to pick me up and help to put me back together again. Truly we are the Body of Christ. And even in the days of old faithful believers weren’t spared from the pain of betrayal amongst themselves. In the Psalms David laments of the pain that was caused by someone who he trusted and had fellowship with. Even still, it’s within that same Body that I am finding not only acceptance and renewed faith and strength, but also compassion and wisdom.

More than once the Lord has reminded me throughout my exile and alienation from where I once belonged within the Body that whosoever touches me touches the apple of His eye. That gave me a small hope for revenge, but not much else. That is until I started to consider what that truly means. Do I really want the wrath of God to fall heavy upon my enemy or upon the misdirected supporters? No, not really. A little bit of justice would be nice, but not fire and hail and vengeance with a vengeance! It is better to fall under the hands of an enemy than into the wrath of our Almighty God! Lightly I have prayed, “Forgive them Father, for they know not what they do,” but I haven’t really been sincere. I’ve tried to be, but it just wasn’t there. It’s hard to just let everything go and walk away from any true justice or vindication. But when I think about the wrath of God it starts to make it a little easier to grasp releasing my demand for justice. Who wants to endure the fire of God’s judgment? Not me. Not anyone.

But do you know what has really begun the healing like nothing else could? It’s the imagery of what being the apple of God’s eye really means. As I looked to find out more about this whole concept my heart was immediately pierced, and not in a bad way either. I was taken to the Song of Solomon and beckoned to ‘come away, my beloved’… where I read, “Who is this that cometh up from the wilderness, leaning upon her beloved? I raised thee up under the apple tree: there thy mother brought thee forth; there she brought thee forth that bare thee. Set me as a seal upon thine heart, as a seal upon thine arm: for love is strong as death; jealousy is cruel as the grave; the coals thereof are coals of fire, which hath a most vehement flame. Many waters cannot quench love; neither can the floods drown it: if a man would give all the substance of his house for love, it would utterly be contemned.”

And then to Psalms where the Psalmist mirrors my hurt and confusion: “Hear the right, O Lord, attend unto my cry; give ear unto my prayer, that goeth not out of feigned lips. Let my sentence come forth from thy presence; let thine eyes behold the things that are equal. Thou hast proved mine heart; thou hast visited me in the night; thou has tried me, and shalt find nothing. I am purposed that my mouth shall not transgress. Concerning the works of men, by the word of thy lips I have kept me from the paths of the destroyer. Hold up my goings in thy paths, that my footsteps slip not. I have called upon thee, for thou wilt hear me, O God: incline thine ear unto me, and hear my speech. Show thy marvelous loving-kindness, O thou that savest by thy right hand them which put their trust in thee from those that rise up against them. Keep me as the apple of the eye; hide me under the shadow of thy wings, from the wicked that oppress me, from my deadly enemies, who compass me about.” (Psalms 17:1-9)

And as I’m equipped for the battle I am drawn back to the gentle words spoken to the beloved once again in the Song of Solomon, and with tears of gratitude I share, “I am the rose of Sharon, and the lily of the valleys. As the lily among thorns, so is my love among the daughters. As the apple tree among the trees of the wood, so is my beloved among the sons. I sat down under his shadow with great delight, and his fruit was sweet to my taste. He brought me to the banqueting house, and his banner over me was love. Stay me with flagons, comfort me with apples: for I am sick of love. His left hand is under my head, and his right hand doth embrace me. I charge you, O ye daughters of Jerusalem, by the roes, and by the hinds of the field, that ye stir not up, nor awake my love, till he please. The voice of my beloved! Behold, he cometh leaping upon the mountains, skipping upon the hills. My beloved is like a roe or a young hart: behold, he standeth behind our wall, he looketh forth at the windows, showing himself through the lattice. My beloved spake, and said unto me, Rise up, my love, my fair one, and come away. For, lo, the winter is past, the rain is over and gone; the flowers appear on the earth; the time of the singing of birds is come, and the voice of the turtle is heard in our land; the fig tree putteth forth her green figs, and the vines with the tender grapes give a good smell. Arise, my love, my fair one, and come away. O my dove, that art in the clefts of the rock, in the secret places of the stairs, let me see thy countenance, let me hear thy voice, and thy countenance is comely. Take us the foxes, the little foxes, that spoil the vines: for our vines have tender grapes. My beloved is mine, and I am his: he feedeth among the lilies. Until the day break, and the shadows flee away, turn, my beloved, and be thou like a roe or a young hart upon the mountains of Bether.

And at last a song comes to my heart: “In the secret, in the quiet hour I wait, only for You, I want to know You more. I want to know You. I want to hear Your voice. I want to know You more. I want to touch You. I want to feel Your face. I want to know You more…”

One final thought, in the words of another song as I know that every thing is going to be okay. “Open the eyes of my heart Lord, open the eyes of my heart. I want to see You. I want to see You. To see You high and lifted up, shining in the light of Your glory, pour out Your power and love as we sing Holy, Holy, Holy… Holy, Holy, Holy… Holy, Holy, Holy, I want to see You. I want to see You.”

Audrey Semprun
Joyful Noiz Ministries
08/26/09

All my Ducks in a Row

2009-08-22T21:45:00.000-07:00

These past several months have been very difficult for me. I want to be a witness for the Lord. I want my life to all be in order. I want all of my ducks in a row so to speak. I want every thing to be as perfect as possible. And it's not just my surroundings that I want to have all neat and in order. I want that from myself and from those around me. And you know what? It ain't happening! I find imperfections all around me, and in me too no less!!! I'm not perfect? What's that about? I try to do the right thing. I try to say the right things. Shoot, I even try to think the right things! But do I? Not on this planet! And to make matters worse, I can't control those around me either!!! I can't control anything it doesn't seem. And then I hand it over to the Lord and ask Him to take care of things for me... But do I wait and watch and listen? Not so much. I find myself constantly taking things back and finding myself knee-deep in cares and concerns! MARTHA, MARTHA, Thou art mindful of many things... Oh, how I wish that my MARY in me would surface and rule my heart and my mind!

Jesus, be Jesus in me. Take me and make me all that you would have me to be. Surrender me now on my knees. Jesus, be Jesus in me.

Lost in Translation!

2009-01-30T20:21:00.000-08:00

Okay, so I wanted to show off my son's carpentry work. The building that the window is mounted in is a 40' by 60' three bay doored garage. But could you tell that by the picture? Not today! I was trying to highlight my son's craftmanship and what did I come up with? A picture of a stained glass picture in a window. (My son didn't make the picture. A man by the name of Russell did.) It is the last bit of an obsession. The obsession was to send him (my son) a ton of pictures that was a bit by bit showcase of the work on the garage from the escavating on up to the completed building as it was in progress. Read the post under this if you are the least bit interested in what I was thinking... It's been a long day and I'm out of here. Visit my son's new web site and see his handiwork!

http://www.distinctremodeling.com/

Rat Girl by Default

2009-01-30T19:36:00.000-08:00

I hadn't intended to post about the Rat Girl car. The last time I posted the rat I had to delete it because someone told me that it was out of my character to be ranting about the issue that was bothering me... I guess it should have been at least! Oh, well! What can I say? God's still working on me.

What I had intended to post was in a set of pictures that I had in a program. I clicked on one and these four appeared! That's wonderful to know as I didn't know how to post more than one picture at a time. Only problem is, the picture that I had intended to post is still back in the other program in the photo tray along with the other five that were all hanging out together.

I think I'll type up a book tonight! I have a new job - Praise the Lord! And I've been trying to type on a straight keyboard... What a mess for me! Control Alt Delete is Greek on it even! Can you imagine trying to find the right keys? I learned how to type on my split key board and the other ones are just awkward and even a bit painful to use. I'm happy type, type, typing away!

What I was going to post was a picture of the Rat Girl in stained glass that is hanging in the window of my husband's shop. I was going to carry on about my son's new business venture. He's (my son) a carpenter and does excellent work. He built the shop with my husband and it's huge and gorgeous both! It's on our property and blends in with the house and doesn't take away from the landscape at all. I'll post the picture on the next blog, which will post after this one. I'll also put a link for my son's 'under construction' web site. Why don't you visit him and tell him that his mom says Hi! http://www.distinctremodeling.com/

Book Giveaway!

2009-01-08T20:18:00.000-08:00

No, it's not my book that is on the giveaway! Shadow World is still just a figment of my over-active imagination. My friend Kelly has a book giveaway on her blog. Here is the link. http://enroutetolife.blogspot.com/

My Lulu Storefront

2008-11-10T17:14:00.000-08:00

AN ARTFUL EYE FOR DETAIL

2008-10-04T15:02:00.000-07:00

Okay, and so here I are. Here I am. Here I were? Yes, that's it. I were. I am. I are... I'm pretty busy in my brain is what that is all about. I've been thinking, and that's always a frightening proposition. And no, please don't correct me. And pleeeease don't tell me to think more highly of myself! When someone assumes that I don't care for me and that I'm putting myself down that tells me a lot about them right out the gate! It tells me that they don't know me very well - no - not very well at all! And why is that? It's because I never really had an identity until I found my place in Christ and so I hang out pretty okay with myself, and why not? I'm a child of the King! And I know that right well! Honest!

Anyway, what have I been up to? Not a whole lot of anything that a person could actually put a finger on, but I've been pretty busy just the same. Been searching for work and that's always fun. But I still get a bit giddy when I wake up in the morning and consider that I don't have to go to work... I was pretty done with my work taking care of the elderly. The physical aspect was a bit draining as a lot of my clients errantly believed that they were my only client... and even more so than that I was starting to lose my patience with some of them. Some people can be a bit testy! I think it was the ones that felt like I owed them something that were the worst. I did my work as a servant and they would treat me like their personal slave... Bit of a difference in mind set. I did what I did because I wanted to, not because I had to... And I wasn't no slacker either. Heck, it was in my heart to help these people and so I rolled up my sleeves and gave it my all. Anyhoo, no more fussing. I'm just glad I'm done.

I guess 'bit' is my word for the day. I hate it when someone overuses a word, and here I am. I wanted to change the word a couple of times but it just fit. Guess that's just how it goes.

On to the heading and my task at hand... I'm going to see about offering my services to people to help them to self-publish some of their writing. I figure that it's gotten to be pretty simple for me to upload pictures and to format books and I love to create covers, so why not? I'm a little nervous about reading the 'copy' though! Especially the thought of bad poetry! Bad poetry to me is like scratching on a chalk board or hitting a sour note in a bar of music. It makes me wince in pain. Is that theatric, or what? I have to laugh at myself. I think that anyone who writes poetry has written bad poetry at some time or another! Myself included! And don't even get me started on a novel that doesn't make any sense! I've made it a life-long promise to myself that when someone asks me to read their manuscript for a proposed novel I'm just not available! I will for this endeavor, but the rules are, I'm not a copy editor for grammar corrections, or a book doctor. I want to work on clean manuscripts when it comes to consistency of story and plausibility of plot. I can handle dealing with sentence structure and obviously incorrectly spelled words and maybe the incorrect usage of words, but other than that I'm just in it to format the thing and make it a reality. With poetry or for non-fiction I can see myself sorting and structuring the contents, but not for fiction! If I'm feeling like throwing the book across the room then it is highly unlikely that we will be working together long... I'll send you off to have someone help you clean it up... You being who I'm talking about, and who ever is reading this, surely that isn't you?

AN ARTFUL EYE FOR DETAIL is what I'm calling this endeavor. I considered saying, adventure, but that aspect of the deal is yet to be seen. I've already got a couple of ladies that I may be looking at their poetry. One is a freebie as she helped spur me on in my thoughts to do this in the first place. She will teach me what I need to know to cover all of my bases. I guess her book is a template for the real deal. I'm interested to see if people can actually follow simple instructions. I'll have their book all in order but it'll be up to them to open up the Lulu account and to actually create the book. I don't want to mess with any copyright issues that could possibly arise and so this way I'll stay protected. If they have me design a cover using someone else's artwork and I don't know it then I won't be in trouble, so long as I don't publish the work. If they publish something that they have no rights to then it is their mistake and liability. I have more integrity than that, but I know that not everybody does. I guess that's how there are even thieves in the world in the first place... Hmm. Novel though... And I can ask them if it is their own work, but how would I know? Problem solved. I won't chance it... In this modern day of technology I can't even know if a photograph is copyrighted by a different person than by the person who supplies it to me... Nope, no chancing it! Not this girl! I'll have to set up a billing structure and until I get gainful employment I won't be able to start this business anyway. I'm getting pockets full of money from Unemployment that I can't afford to lose! Not if we still want to eat, and have you seen the prices of groceries lately? Kidding about the pockets full of money... I'm looking for a job, but I already said that, didn't I?

An American Writer?

2008-09-29T22:22:00.000-07:00

So, what do you think about my photoshopping me into the sky? I'm not really sure. I would have liked to have placed me down and to the right a little, but for the life of me I couldn't get me to budge! And I would have liked to have figured out how to resize me too... Some things are just easier to figure out than others, at least for me. It's a program that I am not familiar with, but maybe if I mess around in it (the program, that is) long enough I'll figure it out.

I've abandoned my blog for way too long. Well, I did have a post up for a couple of weeks, but one of my clients, (former now, as I don't have a job and so surely I have no clients?) anyway, she told me that it was out of character for me to have the story up. Maybe it was the title... I took it off. It's really a shame though. It wasn't out of character at all, she just thinks way too highly of me? Surely not? What's a nice Christian lady like me doing posting about stoning someone to death? Truly it was a silly story and it's not my fault that I have some woman running around on this planet thinking that it's okay to annoy me past tears! I've been trying to get the victory and just ignore her, but some things are easier said than done! At least my blood pressure isn't elevated any more every time I see her... Maybe I'm getting there and I just won't know it until I arrive! I hope that's the case because I'm really tired of the scenery - I don't care for "One more time around this mountain!"

As I look at the picture I see that it is a little silly itself... Such is life. The story that I'm posting today isn't a silly story at least. It's one of my favorite shorts for my book, On a Ramble. I guess because I put a lot of me into it. I'll get on with the story and try not to be such a stranger around here... And as I consider it I think that this short will end up in Crooked Places Straight as it's not really the right tone for the Ramble book. I'll have to sort that all out later. On a Ramble isn't going to be put together and have its final edits until I write my last story for it, WE WON! But who knows? Once I write that story it may well end up in a different book too... Too much to be thinking that's for sure! One way or another I'll write the story and then I'll close the book...

An American Writer

Now what in the world could a blue eyed all American girl know about An American Writer? How does one get to be An American Writer? Must one go abroad? To be culturally savvy surely one must be a world traveler? Is that not true?

But how about the mean streets of indifference? Can not a person gain insights and understanding in the stained and dirty suburbs of any given city within the parameters of any given society? Are not the basic needs of any culture centered upon humanity as a whole? People need to feel included and accepted and understood. People need the warmth of a touch; the healing mercy of a smile; a compassionate glance of tolerance.

Is there not a oneness with creation that begs belonging?

You can teach me about all of the pain and the suffering and the great injustices of the world. You can teach me about all of the world religions and belief systems. You can teach me about Socrates and the great minds of days gone by. But can you teach me to care? I mean to really care: To reach out my hand to the helpless; to the desolate; to the rejected. Can you show me the way to right all of the past wrongs? Can you show me how to restore lost cities, lost hopes, or lost dreams? Is there anything that I could possibly have to write that would matter? What kind of a message can a girl from the city, from the country, from the uppermost part of New York have to say?

A world traveler? No, I am not. As a young divorced mother of three I did go to Mexico once. I saw the poverty and the lack. I saw the hopelessness and despair. But these things I saw on the memory of the back hand of a less than honorable man. These things I saw first hand as macaroni and cheese, out of a box, no less, was a mainstay in my children’s diet for lack of education, income, and opportunity.

And how about intolerance? That I experienced outside of the conventional box of religion or politics. That I experienced at the back of the line; the welfare line as I was forced to ‘apply’ for State assistance. Was I greeted with compassion or care either one? No. I was greeted by an overworked paper pusher that most likely could afford Velveeta cheese with her macaroni and not much more. And my tears? They were wasted on indifference and a harsh predetermination that surely I was from poor stock or just lazy. How about abused? Was my pain no less real than any others that had suffered before me? Did I need to know of far away and far reaching social injustices and calamities to experience my own devastation and sorrow? What atomic bomb had savaged my childhood, and what ghastly plague had robbed me of my dignity? What greater loss can one experience that equals the loss of one’s own self?

Do I, a woman, a mother, an American, dare to compare my suffering with the great travesties of the world? Not even. My pain was only a scratch compared to the gaping wounds of those who have gone before. My pain had remedy; resolution; an end. So much suffering goes uncharted for the vastness of the wound – a world of pain and suffering, winked at by a society that considers their Starbuck’s coffee a cultural experience.

Am I naive? I am. Apathetic? Sometimes. Observant? Always. Am I an American Writer? I guess not. But what am I really? I am a voice; a voice of compassion; a voice of concern; a voice of hope: A voice of an American. I am the voice of a writer bleeding red, for the slaughtered, bleeding white for the innocents, and bleeding blue for the honest and true.

(C) Audrey Semprun
Joyful Noiz Ministries
4/8/08

Newest Creation

2007-10-03T22:13:00.000-07:00

I've been wandering around the planet not doing anything of any great significance... That is if you don't count working myself into an early grave! I've pretty much left my blog alone as I liked the book cover that I had been displaying. What can I say? Yesterday's child has been replaced with tomorrow's adventure. I've got lots and lots of stories for On A Ramble. I can call it a done deal any time, any time that is, after I write the final story. "WE WON!" I look forward to that day! I'm still fighting for my daughter's Social Security. I have people tell me that I will never win. They don't know me very well. My daughter needs to have an income and a safety net and I'm not going to give up fighting for her rights, ever! There. That's my story and I'm sticking to it.

If anyone is actually reading me then they will be pleased to know that I am now a contributing writer for http://granolabardevotional.blogspot.com/ . My first devotional will be coming into publication later this month. They have been very warm and inviting over there and I look forward to submitting often! I've never written devotionals, but hey, this multi-faceted writing life is getting more and more interesting all the time!

Do I appear to be off task? I know - what's with the Crooked Places Straight? It's brewing in my spirit. I have a couple of things that I have written lately for a couple of different pastors. I'm tired of hearing them have to apologize for speaking the word of God in love. I've gotten out my shovel and just started digging! The first entry to this book is going to be, A Dissertation on a Dispensation, and the first and last line of that little ditty is, "This is as close to an apology as I ever intend to come for what I write." I guess that speaks clear enough! After that I might be putting a short called, "A Life Well Spent" which I wrote for my most recent pastor. He has retired from the church and is going to be ministering in a different capacity with more of a world outreach mission. I love him dearly. The runner-up for the first entry after "A Dissertation" is "Sin Soup". It's delicious. I wrote it for my daughter's pastor. He said it was a bit scary at first, but as he read it he thought that it was phenomenal! Phenomenal for a writer is icing on the cake that is not only sugar-free, but fat-free also and chock full of flavor! Wonderful response! And with that intro I'll let it speak for itself... God is gracious, use a napkin.

Sin Soup

The pot is brewing – simmering – stinking up the place. And there stands the Pastor, stirring in his heart and soul – pouring out of himself – ministering grace and mercy and a good dose of the need for repentance. But he may as well as be serving cyanide for as much as his ingredients for a life of abundance and peace are spewed out – rejected as a bitter pill.

All of these self-professed chefs are so in love with their hard-hearted stubbornness that they would rather die than give it up – whatever IT may be. Some are thriving on anger and self-pity and are serving up unforgiveness like a badge of courage – daring to hate, and daring any to try and touch them. If they were to let go of the past then Lord help them, it might open up the door for a real future. And then what would that be? The thought of no longer being a victim tastes of surrender – and no – they would rather fight their way to Hell than to do that!

And what about the green-eyed monster – poured into the mix from so many different outlets? Layer upon layer of envy and jealousy and strife: Even to the point of being jealous over the goodness of God! Why has He been pouring out blessings over Sister Sue? Doesn’t He know that my voice is sweeter? Doesn’t He know that my offering is more seasoned, more desirable? And what’s the deal with the Smith’s new home? And why can’t I have a new car? Meanwhile the widow woman digs deep within her own broken heart and adds a small shake of salt into the pot.

And where is this God of mercy and grace, the patron’s cry out, refusing the necessary diet of knowledge of the righteous indignation and judgment of God – and ignoring the crucial ingredients of a life consecrated to God in humility and holiness. Self-righteousness and judgment are poured into the pot instead, by vile and unsanctified vessels of dishonor.

The soup is sour, they complain, never even realizing that it is their own concoction that is wreaking havoc all around them and causing all of the dissention and putrefaction and unrest.

“Lord,” the Pastor cries out, “Help us.”

“I’ve got just what you need.” And with that the Lord opens up the portals of heaven and as His mercy rains down He reaches forth His nail-scarred hand – and with the compassion that comes only from a Father adds one drop of His precious blood to the soup. One drop and what was once a pot of rotting flesh was transformed into a feast to satisfy the hungry masses.

God is a Spirit. Those that worship Him must worship Him in spirit and in truth. And the saying, ‘love covers a multitude of sin’, was not said in vain. And the saying, ‘pick up your cross daily and follow me’, was written for a reminder that the pot of stinking flesh – it would be back on the fire tomorrow and every day thereafter – the only redemption coming from the blood of the Lamb, and the word of our testimony, and loving not our lives unto the death: The death of self: Surrendering to the newness of life which can only be found in Christ. And in Christ we will truly offer up a sweet-smelling offering, acceptable unto God.

The Lord will perfect that which concerns me; Thy mercy O Lord, endures forever; Forsake not the works of thine own hand. And Lord, please bless the works of this Pastor’s hand – and please season the pot of his congregation with the wondrous working power of your blood. Amen.

Never surrender to discouragement, but surrender to the Father who is able to sustain you.

Audrey Semprun
Joyful Noiz Ministries 9/3/07

BOOK PREVIEW!

2007-04-24T22:49:00.000-07:00

Creepy, Creepy Spider

The spider bite scar held a place of prominence in the child's life and on the child's arm - and then came time and forgetfulness, distance and chubbiness that shrunk the remembrance almost completely.

Oh, sure, the place that was forever tattooed on her arm remained - but the memories were few and far between. That is until the boy surmised, "Hey, when were you ever bitten by a brown recluse?" The young man was genuinely surprised by his discovery.
She put the over-sized spoon down on the stove next to the pot of simmering chili and looked at her oldest son: Tall and lean, but nothing close to scrawny, that one. Definitely not a Mama's boy, but not a Daddy's boy either. A man on his own. If you asked him he'd tell you he does all right for himself. If you ask his mother, surely her reply would be a non-committal, "He's my son."

Instead of answering his question she poses one of her own. "How'd you know?"

She was about four - just a skinny little whisper of a girl. Hanging out at Grandma's house with all the cousins. Her mother's clan.

The stairs leading down to the basement were crude and narrow, as was the stairwell with its cold and unpainted cement walls. Grandma's basement was better than most. Had plenty of room and make-shift beds scattered throughout. Nice and warm and comfy.
Until the scream. She woke herself up with a blood curdling scream. And the pain. Her left arm was on fire.

Betty is an artist. First rate. Been at it for years. But Betty has a secret side too. She is a closet writer. She's got this book of poems. They aren't anything that she cares to share, thank you anyway, she tells the woman with the mostly never noticed disfiguration on the back side of her left arm.

Her unwillingness to share her boundless imagination has left the scar lady a bit frustrated. She would like to publish the woman's book of poems.
"I'd be glad to do it. No cost. Really. I'd do it for my own copy of your book," she offers, to no avail.

She couldn't help herself. Within the scarce few pages of the said book of poems were some really creepy poems about spiders.

So, what's the fascination with spiders? No great fascination really. One of the poems was about vindication. 'Murder in the Morning.' Delicious.

A fear of spiders is more realistic. Or maybe fear isn't the right word either - no - it's more of an aversion. The woman doesn't want no spiders in her space. None. They are not safe around her. She'll do whatever it takes to rid herself of any creepy, creepy spider's presence - any spider. Tiny isn't good enough. They are out of there too. And that little kid song, 'Itsy Bitsy Spider' is one of those things that she'd rather that it had never been written - creepy.

She can't remember when Halloween became offensive to her, but it has. Year after year it's the same old thing. Spiders great and small - black and gruesome - everywhere! At the grocery store - at the bank - is there no place that is sacred? And the webs! Sticky white or grey webs harboring Lord knows what! Spiders maybe? Real, hairy, creepy spiders! It could happen!

As if pretend spiders weren't bad enough, she has to go out and find real ones too! She helps out this guy. He's sorta blind, kinda. She's dusting - dusting up a storm. Notices the cob-webs outside of the window sill that she is dusting. "You've got a bit of a mess outside. I'll go get it."

Off she goes with a broom. She'll get that mess out of there in no time. Sweeping away, even humming. She's enjoying the fresh air and the help that she's being for the old guy.
She brushes the wall with the broom. What a mess, but she's getting it all knocked down real nice. Except she disturbs a visitor of the old man's home - his resident spider! She screams and throws the broom up in the air. Shaking, she goes back inside. It's clean enough she determines. Creepy!

She puts the incident behind her. No more cob-webs for that old girl! Hadn't she learned her lesson?

So how was she to know that she was carrying this big brown hairy spider in all of that card board? She was shoving it all into the outside trash can and there it was, crawling right at her! She stretched her arms out in front of her as far as she could and thump. She bumped the spider off into the bushes instead of the trash can. "Today was your lucky day." She told the big brown hairy intruder as she shook off the chills that were running down her spine. Way creepy.

Did it go into the trash can after all? With caution as her guide, she didn't want the thing crawling up her leg, she leaned over and searched the twigs and the brush. No spider. She stepped around the can and looked behind the thing. Still no spider. She checked on her shoes and pant legs - then shook off the creeps and headed back inside.

"Brown spiders are aggressive. There were a bunch of them where I use to live in California. Really creepy."

"Err... Stop! I don't want to talk about spiders!"

The brunette looked at the blonde, but was not unkind. She well could have said, "Then why'd you bring them up?" but she didn't.

Then there was the small child. Right up out of the blue she says, "When a brown recluse spider bites you it can leave a blister this big." As she puts her two small hands together and makes one rather large cupped object lesson.

Creepy crawled down her spine as she replied to the little girl, "Yeah, I know. And when that blister pops it leaves a scar just as big."

"Yeah," the little girl replies. "It's the poison. It spreads."
"I know," the aged, but once a child herself, replies. "Like this." As she pulls up her sleeve and lets the child examine the handiwork on the back of her left arm.

"The blister popped?"

"My aunt popped it. She thought it was a boil. The poison spread all over. See?"

The little girl was readily shown all of the tiny scars that surrounded the larger, prominent, but faded, scar.

"When did you get bit?"

"When I was a little girl. I was in my grandma's basement. The spider bit me and it hurt so bad that I woke up screaming."

"The bite didn't wake you up. It takes a couple of hours for the pain to set in."
The woman with the bite - the child with the insight.

A week had passed after the big brown spider on the box incident. More cardboard boxes.

"Could you maybe just push the other ones down?"

"There's a spider out there!" The woman protested.

"No there's not," the older, wiser, woman replied. "That's gone."

There was no sense in arguing - but she knew the truth - no - that spider would never be gone! It would be there - she knew it. In the trash can - beside the can in the shrubs. Lurking under every piece of card board there ever was from then on out. She would just have to watch - just have to be careful. She would just have to deal with the past, the future, the hidden, and the stealth, creepy, creepy spider crawling up the water spout...

Audrey Semprun
Joyful Noiz Ministries 2/29/07

Manifesto

2007-04-23T19:42:00.000-07:00

And that’s how it all started. I will not read his writing. He had an agenda and as far as I can see the whole nation jumped on the band wagon. That is except for those poor innocents and those scarred souls that were left behind. I don’t figure that if you are going to do something dastardly that you deserve to have your manifesto published, or your evil pictures plastered all over the press.

I woke up in the middle of the night and here I am again. Except for this time I’m laying under a desk just waiting, having an eye conversation with a young man – wondering if I’m next. When I wake up out of that, I’m laying there hot: Extremely hot. I’m wrestling with my blankets, wrestling with my dream, and wrestling with my imagination – telling it to settle down, go back to sleep. I don’t want to get up and write. I’m not going to get up and write. I am tired.

And I look at the clock: One-thirty. What in God’s green earth am I doing awake at One-thirty in the morning? It’s Monday morning. Work comes way too early and way too dirty to be laying awake thinking about somebody’s manifesto that I refuse to read – I refuse to even give a name – at One-thirty in the morning.

If that sounds like anger, I believe it is. I believe that it is righteous indignation. It’s not me that was assaulted, murdered, but it was everything that I have always believed in – stood for. It’s everything our nation stands for: For life, liberty, and justice for all: And what about the pursuit of happiness? Hello?

I hear my grandfather clock: It tells me it’s Two. That means it’s not quite Two. I need to get that repaired, but in the scope of things I don’t think it’s of major importance.

I finally went back to sleep. I didn’t hear my husband get up for a change. Oh, he tries to be quiet, and he does real well, but sometimes I hear him just the same. Five AM and all is well. I told him on Saturday that he needed to be sleeping in on Saturday and not getting up at Five O’clock in the morning. Nobody gets up at Five O’clock in the morning on Saturday. He just laughed at me and told me that he had things to do.

My hubby always gets up at Five O’clock. Not me, I don’t get up at Five O’clock. But I was awake this morning at Five O’clock by goodness. Hubby dearest forgot to tell his alarm clock that he wouldn’t be needing her services. Oh it came on peaceful enough – nice and quiet – it was that gal that talks on Calm: KAHM 102.2 on your FM dial. The music was playing nice and low, but I couldn’t’ even enjoy the music because all that I could think was that I need to be resting. I have to get up soon.

And then when I finally adapt to the noise, whereas I wanted silence, hubby finds his oversight and turns off that wonderful little box that I had finally adjusted to, and so he woke me up again. And then I finally got up for the day. And there it was – right there on the front part of my brain. I will not read what that man wrote.

An Angel of Mercy

2007-02-08T19:41:00.000-08:00

Have I completely sold out or what? It took me fifteen years to write this novel. Am I really willing to take a chance of 'corrupting' my baby by self publishing her? I've been told by a very good friend that I should press forward with the books and not to look back. Look back at what? A chance for validation? A chance for a larger audience? A chance for fortune or fame?

You know what I want? I want my baby to be read. And I'd also like to pay off my mortgage. Why? Well, to have the book read means that I have not wasted all of these years that I have invested in her. To have her read means that she will have the opportunity to minister to souls that are hurting. And the mortgage? I'd like to see my husband retire before he works himself to death and my home is lovely and I'd like to stay here.

I was fortunate to be born in an affluent nation, a spoiled nation. I know that there are children who are suffering and the poor will be with us always. Always. I want to be able to minister hope to the hopeless. Idealist? Yeah, that's me.

Where did I get my education? Which one? I told a client one time that I didn't need her help with the dishes, that surely I had already earned a doctorate in doing dishes. I enjoyed sharing that line until a different client countered my cute little pun with, "Did you also earn a doctorate in doing counters, cause mine sure is a mess." And isn't that just how it is? Just when you think that you have mastered something someone comes along to show you quite plainly your inadequacies.

Back to my question. Where did I get my education? And again, which one? I have had many educations. One as a small and defenseless child. One as a rebellious teenager. One as a lonely young mother and abused wife. One as a hopeless soul, sick in heart and mind. One as a new creation. One as a diligent student of the Word of God. One as a student in the school of social outcasts and churchery rejection. One as accepted in the beloved. One as a young mother. One as a seasoned adoptive mother. One as a rejected wife. One as a wife of a man of God. One as a mother of a disabled child. One as an educator of disabled children. One as a sister. A daughter. A grand-daughter. One as a High School Student. One as a High School dropout. One as a High School Graduate.

I have taken out my shovel and I have dug up the church. Can I sell it to the CBA? Not hardly. I don't have the resources, the time or the education to jump through their many hoops. But how do I let go of one dream and dare to pursue another? I don't want to 'publicize myself.' I want to be like the young teen that I once was in my many educations and watch my lowly little cigarette that is touched to a blade of grass ignite a fire that cannot be quenched... (I only burned up a small field, but at the time it felt like I had set the world on fire.) I guess that's what I want: To set the world on fire.

NOW AVAILABLE!

2007-01-13T22:38:00.000-08:00

I have finally released my book of poems, And The Glory. It is not a real long book, but one that I am blessed to be able to put my name to.

It is beautifully hard bound and I have also made it available to download onto your computer.

My son created the cover and I am so proud of him. It never was my intention to splash my name on the cover like it turned out. Mychal suggested to write the title of the book along the side of the book as it appears. Then we put my name on the top, but the font was so tiny that we couldn't read my name. We changed the font to match the title and when we pulled up the new text my name was bigger than the book. It was crazy fun. We then reduced the size so that my name would fit on the cover and went with it.

I took the photograph of the clouds on my way to take my little grandbaby girls to the babysitter about three blocks away from my house. It was a dark and dreary day but I had my camera with me just in case. I had a different photograph that I had held on to for years for the book's cover. When I finally found Lulu and was ready to actually do something with my poems I uploaded the original photograph and it looked really bad because it was taken in landscape where as it needed to have the other angle so that it would format into the 6x9 and not get stretched out of shape. It was a gorgeous picture and I was so disappointed that I couldn't use it afterall. Day after day I took my camera with me wherever I went hoping and believing for just the right picture for the cover of my book.

The sun came out for just a minute and I pulled over onto the side of a winding road and started snapping away. My cover photo is untouched. The colors are the true sight that I was blessed with that day.

How can I not stand in amaze at the greatness and the glory of God?

I completed my combination book of Memoirs also. I've been busy! I've decided to hold off from offering the combo book for sale yet as I have a friend of mine who is interested in possibly editing the work and then helping me to seek legitimate representation.

I love what Lulu offers, but still, that book contract(s) is what I have my heart set upon. I've got my novels to consider, and my mortage! Hubby sure would like a hand with the note!

Now I'll have to get back to finishing my trilogy. I'm going to press myself to start finishing some of these works in progress! First, Destiny's Child. Then either The Back Track Conspiracies, or Character's Folly - Which ever one starts falling out of my brain first!

Check out my books on Lulu. I love the quality that their set up allows! (And a little hard work! Not to mention a brilliant son!)

EVEN IN SILENCE http://www.lulu.com/content/197711

AND THE GLORY http://www.lulu.com/content/299467

What the heck. I went ahead and put the other books out there too. Now I can move on...

A PATH OF PEACE http://www.lulu.com/content/227180

MEMOIRS OF A LADY PREACHER http://www.lulu.com/content/551577

The Parties Over

2006-12-23T17:56:00.000-08:00

You know the saying, "Write what you know"? Well, I guess to say. I more than got snarked on Miss Snark's blog. I was eaten alive and spit out.

I do appreciate all of her hard work though and dedication. No sour grapes over here, but I am licking my wounds.

Here's the bad, the bad, and the ugly.

I said unto you when you were in your own blood, Live.

Emily McPherson was special. She had been swept up from the meaningless wasteland of nothingness by the Ultimate Authority, and had been taken into His very bosom. But Emily couldn’t be content just looking down upon her fellow discarded souls. She had a longing to go to them – to help them – to do something – anything. The problem was; what could she do? She was only a teen, and alone: And that world down there. It was full of Scrogens: Horrible death-dealing Scrogens.

Justin St. Clair had found the love of his life, he was certain of it. Everything about Emily cried out for him to take her in his arms and love her. She awoke passions in him that hadn’t been stirred since the realization that his sixteenth birthday, his age of un-accountability, was fast approaching and the man that he had been was tracking fast back into adolescence. Could he bear to let her track on into adulthood without him? Was he willing to fast track so that he could reverse the regression, at least for a little while? But the cost; was he willing to pay the cost? To fast track would send him on to end track: Bag and tag and he was done. Was it worth it – One lifetime instead of countless others? And if he chose to continue on his track’s natural course, could he protect his beloved from THE BACK TRACK CONSPIRACIES?

Here, have some pruning shears.Now go read the post on XYX.Start over.And for dog's sake think of something other than "scrogens" to use as a name.I'm not sure this even reaches the standard of mess.

posted by Miss Snark at 12/23/2006 03:56:00 PM 6 comments

Ah, new - how refreshing

2006-12-22T22:21:00.000-08:00

Now, this is fresh and new, but interesting? I'm not so certain! I'm over here obsessing about Miss Snark and her crap o meter. Hey, am I witty or what? I hadn't put the toidy and the COM together until this instant. I'm quick, what can I say?

I've got The Back Track Conspiracies 'hook' up for public flogging on Miss Snark's blogsite. http://misssnark.blogspot.com/ My entry is #394.

When I wrote the hook I was diligent, but now I'm losing my confidence. I've noticed that the 'winners' are pretty much light and have some sort of sexual innuendos. Not all of them, but a lot. There are a lot of young adult entries also, and Science Fiction Fantasy. I don't even write SFF!!! But, I guess I did, or I do, or I am... (If you feel like correcting my grammar, please refrain.)

Anyhoo, I might get chewed up pretty good. I see essential elements of a hook that are missing in my submission now that I didn't foresee, but right now I'm too tired to think to say which ones. I know that I've left too many things unsaid about the antagonists, and too much said about Emily's background. Yeah, back-story. Back-story, that I'm good at. Just like run-on sentences... I was taught to write run-on sentences I'll have you know. Somewhere in primary school. Was rewarded for the longest correctly punctuated sentences, I kid you not. I know that I have partial sentences going on. Like I said, if you feel like correcting my grammar, please don't!

I'm rambling. Why am I rambling? Cause I'm tired and I haven't updated my blog for a while and I hate how blurred the NANOWRIMO picture is... I wanted a change.

Maybe I'll blog about Christmas. I doubt it. Christmas is in my heart, but my soon to be critiqued entry is on my mind! My writing is my passion. I know that the Lord knows that He is my first love. I'm okay with that and not ashamed to say so.

The Back Track Conspiracies has a couple of explanations and chapters posted below. Only one more thing I'll say, If the book seems to be dark it is. It took me 33,000 words to get to the light.

Cheers.

NaNoWriMo 2006

2006-12-01T23:15:00.000-08:00

I can't believe that November has come and gone. I survived, but barely!

So much in my little pea brain that spilled out onto the paper, but so much yet to write!

I'd like to end The Back Track Conspiracies where I left off, but that isn't the way it's got to be.

I've left far too many storylines unfinished, and far too many thoughts unwritten...

Such is life. I want to write a lazy-arsed novel, but I don't get off that easy. I guess I have to let the thing brew a little bit more though, cause I'm drained of ideas.

How much light do I want Emily to have to share?

What's Justin going to do?

What about Tony? Will he appreciate the sacrifice that Raymond made for him?

Is the SSS going down?

Will the murderer meet with justice?

What about dark and sinister Jason? Is there any closure to his character?

Who is the new character that I have to create for the 'strapped with seniors' luncheon?

Will Reeses' husband ever make his back track?

Will Hazel learn anything from her mistakes? Will she actually say the life line?

How am I going to get rid of Kathryn?

Will Regina get caught as a spy as she joins the SSS?

Will the FDC ever get it right?

How'm I gonna end this thing?

"Oh don't you see? It's plain to see, to me they all are Emily..."

Will that work?

How about "Who is going to care for the Scrogens?"

Is that an epilogue, or is it the forerunner of the ending?

Can I go to bed now?

Scrogging Granny, TBTC Chapter Fourteen

2006-11-08T18:57:00.000-08:00

Chapter Fourteen

“I really think that it’s time for her to go.” Anthony approached Denalda about Margaret. The old woman was starting to show a decline in her health and Anthony didn’t want the added burden to be on his wife’s shoulders. She had hinted herself that she was tired and that her grandmother was fast losing her usefulness. Anthony thought that it would make the decision to place Margaret easier on Denalda if it came from him and he decided that he was okay with being the bad guy.
“The FDC has a lovely complex. They would take good care of her. Of course, you know that you would have to sign away all of your familial rights, but otherwise I think that it’s a good choice, all things considered.”
Denalda acted surprised at her husband’s suggestion but it was only a good front, because deep down she was relieved. She was grateful that her husband was sensitive enough to know that it would hurt her too much to have to carry the responsibility of having made this decision on her own.
“Do you think she’d really be okay there?” Denalda put on a caring granddaughter’s demeanor and played it to the hilt. “Do you think that they’ll be able to place her?”
“She’ll do fine. There are lots of people out there that would love to have the chance to adopt your grandma.”
“You think so?”
“Sure, why not? Look how good she is with Tony. She’ll make some family a real nice granny.”
“And maybe after she tracks out she could come and find us? I mean, I wouldn’t want to lose her forever.”
“Of course you wouldn’t want to lose her forever. And I’m certain that she would come and find us. Look how good she is with Tony.”
“Did someone call me?” Tony peeked his head around the corner.
“Come here, sweetie. There is something that we need to tell you.”
Tony climbed up onto his mama’s lap and looked intently into her eyes.
“Grandma is going to go away, but it’ll only be for a little while. We’re going to give her to a nice family.” Denalda was trying to break the news gently.
“No! Don’t give grandma away, Mama, I want to keep her!” Tony was terrified of losing his playmate and his best friend.
“Grandma hasn’t been feeling well, son. She needs to go to a different home, one that will be able to take care of her.” Anthony was trying to soften the blow for his little guy.
“I’ll take care of her, I promise! I’ll get her food and water, and I’ll play with her when she wants to.” Tony was not ready to send his granny away.
“No Tony, it won’t work. She’s much too much of a responsibility for you. It’s best this way. I’ll have to go and tell Grandma.” Denalda was kind and gentle to her only son, knowing deep down inside that what they were planning to do was wrong. But she was determined. The wall that had been looming over her had finally been broken down and she was going to run with the opportunity to have her freedom at Anthony’s suggestion. It made her feel a sense of disconnectedness to the whole deal since it came from the mouth of another and not her own.
“No, mommy, no!” Tony screamed as his mother untangled him from being wrapped around her legs, as he was trying desperately to stop her. She freed the young child and handed him to his father. “Please, hold him. I’ll go and talk to her.”

---------------

“Grandma, are you busy?” Denalda knocked lightly as she let herself into the room that her grandmother had occupied for the past several years, since shortly after little Tony had been born actually.
“Not at all Denny, come on in.”
“I needed to talk to you about something.” Denalda braced herself for what she was going to have to say.
“Sure kid, go on.”
“Anthony came to me tonight, and we were discussing you and your continued health issues. You know you haven’t been feeling well.”
“No, but I’m sure I’ll be all right. Surely it’s just a cold or something.”
“Grandma, you’re getting old.”
Margaret stared blankly at her granddaughter. She had a queasiness in her stomach and was afraid that she knew what was coming.
“I’m afraid that you have come to be too much for us to take care of.”
“I’ll try to stay out of the way, Denalda. And I could help with Tony more if you want. Please don’t send me away.”
“I’m afraid it’s not up to me. Anthony wants me to make the arrangements at the FDC. I’m sure that they will be able to place you in a good home.” Even as she spoke, Denalda remembered what had been said at the Society’s last board meeting about budgets and budget cuts, but still she smiled at her grandmother and continued on with her line of lies.
“There are plenty of good families out there just waiting for a granny like you.”
Margaret said nothing. What could she say? She was about to be scrogged.

---------------

“No, ma’am, she’s still potty-trained. No diapers yet.” Denalda was trying to be patient, but she hated all of the stupid questions.
“Does she interact well with children?” The snub-nosed intake worker asked with a nasally huff and a snort.
“Yes, she’s good with children. She practically raised my little boy.” Now with that Denalda should have had at least a pang of guilt, but felt nothing but irritation at having to take so long.
“Is she prone to outbursts or childlike tantrums?”
“No, she doesn’t have tantrums! She’s a good granny.”
“Then why, may I ask,” in her nasal drawl the woman snorted, “do you want to give her away?”
“Then why do I want to give her away? That’s not a fair question.”
“It’s mandatory that you answer it, ma’am.”
“You mean I have to answer it, or you won’t take her?”
“Precisely.”
“I just can’t take care of her anymore.”
“Thank you. Just leave her and her things in the lobby. Once you are gone we will dispose of her properly, er, I mean, we will place her.”
Denalda had quit listening after the woman told her to just leave her and her things in the lobby. Would it have made a difference had she heard the woman’s slip? It was doubtful, very doubtful.

TBTC Chapter One

2006-11-05T08:56:00.000-08:00

Chapter One

Justin knelt down and gently placed a blanket over the battered teen’s naked body. He then cradled her in his arms and stood. Who could do such a thing? Who could hurt her so badly and then just throw her away? He could tell by the flexibility of her bruised and torn body that she was alive, but surely she had been left for dead? Draped over his arms she looked so young and so frail. He carried her over to the ambulance and his two assistants helped him carefully lay her out on the gurney.
“Man, this is bunk.” A red haired, freckled faced Matt shook his head in disbelief.
“No doubt.” A tall and trim Pete solemnly agreed.
A pretty roughed up Jane Doe started to stir.
“Shh, be still. You’re okay.” Justin lightly placed a reassuring hand on the young woman’s shoulder. “We’ll take good care of you. It’s okay.”
Jane, (at least to them), groggily opened her eyes. As she became more aware of her surroundings, and of the aches and pains that were searing through the whole of her being, she was alarmed. She clutched a hold of the thin rescue blanket, held it to her trembling chest, and tried to sit up. She was shaking from the cold and exposure of having been left out in the field some time in the night. Weakness overtook her and she collapsed back down onto the portable bed.
“Who are you, and what have you done to me?”
“Nothing. We haven’t done anything to you. We’re paramedics. We’re trying to help you.” Justin’s eyes relayed a sincere sadness and concern for this victim of whatever circumstance that had befallen her. Those Scrogens. I’ll bet it was those stinkin’ Scrogens, Justin thought bitterly, but kept his thoughts and his anger buried inside. He was good at that. How many years had he carried the memories, the anger? Too many to count. He shook it off and gave the dainty little brunette with the bewildered doe eyes his full attention.
“But how – how did I get here?” The three young men just looked at their precious cargo and said nothing. What could they say? They were as clueless as she was about the whole situation.

---------------

The hospital gown was a warm reprieve from her emergency blanket but still the question of what happened to Jane Doe remained. She had been beaten up pretty bad, but by who, and why? She was a sweet young thing. It didn’t make any sense, and she couldn’t’ help answer any of the questions either. Jane Doe didn’t know what had happened. She hadn’t even known her own name –
Justin could tell by the tracks in her arm that she had never done this before. White, red, yellow, green – he must put it all together, what it all means. White, she was a virgin of the purest sense of the word, a first-tracker. Red, she was fertile; a
member of the sisterhood of the blood covenant. Yellow, they had a record of her at the Family
Distribution Center, the FDC, as it was commonly referred to as. Green, she had been logged out of the FDC. The FDC was far too busy for any sort of immediate, accurate record on a former resident there.
What could easily be accessed about the young girl was that she was at least seventeen and had most likely just tracked out of the age of un-accountability. Her name was Emily McPherson and although he knew nothing else, Justin knew this, Emily needed him. She had no one, absolutely no one. Justin had researched her back-round and had found that she was a first-tracker with no known parents. Now, for a fresh-tracker that could have been no big deal, but for a first-tracker that was odd: A first-tracker had to have been fresh born and not a recycled tracker. Where, he wondered, were Emily’s parents and why wasn’t there a record of them?
Justin was a pre-cycled, back-tracker. He had begun his back track after he had first tracked out at the age of seventy-nine at the request of his nephew Stephen. Stephen had long since end-tracked, but Justin hadn’t forgotten… Mercifully, when Justin reached the age of un-born then he would be recycled and the only thing left of his former track would be his nationality and his gender. The rest would be forgotten, except for the wisdom that he gleaned; that he would take with him to his next track. Justin had a lot of knowledge under his belt. The trouble was, he was seventeen and would soon reach the age of un-accountability. He would have to surrender himself and his freedom to the FDC upon tracking back to the age of sixteen.
Justin wasn’t comfortable with the proposition, but that was just how it was. He could fast track and reverse the track and no longer regress in age, and begin once again to progress in age, but that wasn’t a choice to be made lightly. A tracker could track back and forth literally forever, that is unless they made a conscious choice to end-track and Justin wasn’t that unwise.
So there he was, a young man, getting younger every day: And Emily, a young woman, getting older every day. The time was closing in on him where he could no longer take care of himself, at least not legally. And Emily, she had no one, that is, except for Justin.

---------------

It wasn’t long before Emily was well enough to leave the safe haven that she had found at the hospital, but where to go?
“So you get to blow this joint, huh?” Justin had been a faithful friend.
“So they tell me, but to be honest – I don’t know where I’ll go.” Emily’s light brown hair rested gently on her shoulders and she looked the perfect picture of youth, health, and vitality.
“I’ve got a friend. Her name is Valerie. She would probably take you in. She’s a nice gal and I think you’d like her.”
Justin had worked with Valerie for years. She was the desk clerk over at the station from where the ambulances were disbursed from. He had been considering asking her about Emily but hadn’t wanted to approach her without his newfound friend in hand. Valerie put on a tough front, but was a softie at heart. Justin didn’t want Valerie to turn Emily away sight unseen. He knew that if he had the girl in hand then Valerie would in no way be able to turn her away.
“Valerie, huh? Wow. Thanks. It’s a pretty scary world out there.” Didn’t Justin know it! And if she thought that it was bad now, just wait. Emily couldn’t remember anything about her life before her ‘accident’ as she chose to call it. Surely the first time that her eyes lit upon a Scrogen that young girl would be trippin’ out! Justin wanted to brace her, but how could he explain that giant grass-hopper like creatures were wandering around everywhere? He decided that he’d just walk her through it, and give her a little education along the way.
As the two stepped out of the hospital and into the bright sunlight they weren’t far up the sidewalk when an object lesson, Emily’s first Scrogen, stepped out from a side street and scared Emily near to death.
Justin immediately came to her defense. “Unclean! Unclean! Step back! Out of the way!”
The Scrogen tucked its head even lower to its chest and hurriedly crossed the street. Emily found herself holding tightly to Justin’s arm.
“What was that? How horrible!”
“I wanted to tell you, but I just didn’t know how. That’s a Scrogen. They’re all over.” Even at his words Emily saw two more approaching. Justin lifted a hand of authority over the ghastly creatures and they high-stepped it to the other side of the street, same as the first one, their heads tucked down into their chests, not daring to make eye contact.
“We have authority over them.” Justin softly explained. They can’t hurt us, at least not during the daylight. If a Scrogen is caught harming a tracker then they are tracked out with no questions asked.
“Oh, and they die?” Emily was trying to sort things out.
“No, but they have to track all over again. Most of them choose to end-track ‘cause it’s just no fun to be a Scrogen.
“End-track? I don’t know what you mean.”
“It’s our life-cycle Emily. We all track. We track forward and when this life is through we are processed and then we track backwards. See here,” Justin lifted Emily’s wrist into his hand and turned it up for her to see. “These are your track marks.”
Emily was fascinated. She hadn’t even noticed them before. She had tiny little dots that started on her wrist and worked their way up her arm.
“And you can tell things about me by these?”
“Everything that a tracker needs to know about you is etched right there in your arm.”
“You have them?”
“Sure, see.” Justin offered out his arm for Emily to read and then took it back before she had a chance to be able to comprehend what dots he had. Not that she would have a clue what any of the track marks meant, but Justin wanted to protect his privacy just the same.
“You sure have a lot of track marks.”
“Yeah, well, I’ve been around the block a time or two.” Justin smiled and Emily felt safe and secure.

Sneak Preview: THE BACK TRACK CONSPIRACIES

2006-10-28T20:03:00.000-07:00

The Back Track Conspiracies

The Beginning:

Ezekiel 16:2-6

Son of man, cause Jerusalem to know her abominations, And say, Thus saith the Lord God unto Jerusalem; Thy birth and thy nativity is of the land of Canaan; thy father was an Amorite, and thy mother a Hittite. And as for thy nativity, in the day thou wast born thy navel was not cut, neither wast thou washed in water to supple thee; thou wast not salted at all, nor swaddled at all. None eye pitied thee, to do any of these unto thee, to have compassion upon thee; but thou wast cast out in the open field, to the loathing of thy person, in the day that thou wast born. And when I passed by thee and saw thee polluted in thine own blood, I said unto thee when thou wast in thy blood, Live; yea, I said unto thee when thou wast in thy blood, Live.

The New Beginning:

“What are we to do with all of these discarded souls?” Emily McPherson addressed the Counsel. “Who would have ever thought that Earth could ever come to the place that they could no longer contain all of the peoples born there?”
“Don’t you know?” The Counsel gently addressed their newest member. It wasn’t her fault that she didn’t know – but she needed to…
“Longevity is a place of ‘beginnings’ for the souls who didn’t make it on Earth. The non-breathers.”
“Non-breathers? How can that be?” Emily was perplexed. “Everyone has to breathe.”
“Yes, that’s true. Everyone has to breathe – to survive.”
“You mean – ” Tears threatened Emily’s eyes.
“Exactly.” Came a solemn truth.
“Are they – my people?”
********************
“It’s never been done before.”
“No one’s ever asked.”
“No one’s ever qualified. She’s one of them.”
“How will she survive?”
“Counselor?”
“I have placed my light in her. I will watch over her.” The Ultimate Authority had spoken. His will would be done.

The Metamorphosis of a Scrogen:

First Stage –

In order to become a Scrogen you must first determine that a loved one is no longer living a ‘quality’ life, or they have become more of a bother than you are willing to deal with. Next, simply turn them over to The Family Distribution Center so that you don’t have to be bothered with them anymore. In turn the FDC will assess the viability of the surrendered soul and most likely recycle them. They will scrog (to be cut off, dwarfed) the troublesome individual and the burden will be lifted, or so one would think, but that is just the beginning…

Second Stage –

Nauseousness and overall fatigue overwhelms the ‘loved one’ of the dearly departed, (if the former family member is so judged and eliminated by means of being scrogged). This strange and sudden ‘sickness’ will send the ‘victim’ to bed. From there the skin and fat begins to wither away. As the weight drops off it is necessary to hospitalize in order to sustain life. Then the ‘transformation’ begins to be apparent and the medical officials recognize the ‘real’ problem and the patient is then transferred to the Transformatory. No one becomes a Scrogen the easy route – by waking up transformed into this ghastly grassed hopper. All suffer the agony of loss – the loss of themselves.

Final Stage –

After the ‘victim’ is admitted into the Transformatory and fully a Scrogen, they are told a statement and asked this question, “You own a shame. What was their name?” Then the transformer etches the answer, which all have to claim, onto the trembling shoulders of the weakest, to the bravest, and even the foulest former person…

THE BACK TRACK CONSPIRACIES:

Back Cover Copy

Emily McPherson was special. She had been swept up from the meaningless wasteland of nothingness by the Ultimate Authority, and had been taken into His very bosom. But Emily couldn’t be content just looking down upon her fellow discarded souls. She had a longing to go to them – to help them – to do something – anything. The problem was; what could she do? She was only a teen, and alone: And that world down there. It was full of Scrogens: Horrible death-dealing Scrogens.

Justin St. Clair had found the love of his life, he was certain of it. Everything about her cried out to him to take her in his arms and love her. She awoke passions in him that hadn’t been stirred since the realization that his sixteenth birthday, his age of un-accountability, was fast approaching and the man that he had been was tracking fast back into adolescence. Could he bear to let her track on into adulthood without him? Was he willing to fast track so that he could reverse the regression, at least for a little while? But the cost; was he willing to pay the cost? To fast track would send him on to end track: Bag and tag and he was done. Was it worth it – One lifetime instead of countless others? And if he chose to continue on his track’s natural course, could he protect his beloved from THE BACK TRACK CONSPIRACIES?

The Back Track Conspiracies NANOWRIMO...Soon!

2006-10-16T22:39:00.000-07:00

What is a Scrogen?

2006-10-14T08:44:00.000-07:00

Is it a bug? No. Hardly. Oh, sure, the picture, that's a bug. A grasshopper. I used it because I didn't know how else to capture something that I can only faintly identify with. Actually, I can't really identify with it at all, but I couldn't use a human likeness for something that breaks my heart and rips upon my spirit like a cancer, but worse. It's death by selection. Death by selection. I mean it, death by selection.

I'm not talking about suicide. I'm not talking about murder. I'm not talking about some dread illness. What I am talking about is loss of usefulness. I'm talking about a bother. I'm talking about a burden. I'm talking about a mother. Is it your mother? It's not my mother.

I am not a happy camper. I have no recourse. I have no place for the shame. It's not my shame. It was not my choice. It was not my business. I am sad, but so hollowed out by the situation that I have no tears. Nothing. I could do nothing. Nothing. I can do nothing. Nothing. Could I pray? What? For the dead? I'm not Catholic. The only time that I pray for the dead is when I hear of a death that came unexpectedly and my heart is pulled for that particular soul. Only then I will pray for the Lord to rest that soul, to give them peace.

I prayed for Rose when she died. Now that, that was murder. Did I tell? No. Was I sure? Yes. How did I know? Rose told me that he was going to kill her. I told her to leave. She was sick and elderly and had no where to go. She told me that he threatened to shoot her right out loud. I told her to leave, or to call for help, but deep down inside I thought that it was just a ploy to get my sympathy, which she did, but not my help... (I wasn't working as a social worker at the time or I would have been legally obliged to report the situation. Legally, I was clear. But morally? I'm not so sure...) Rose did nothing either, except for die. Self-inflicted gunshot wound. Suicide 'he' told me. "You're kidding" came out of my mouth. "No, I'm not kidding. She shot herself." "I'm so sorry." I stammered and hung up the phone. I didn't want my friend's murderer to come kill me. I couldn't let him know that I knew. I called a friend of mine. A chaplain at the jail. Told of the situation. Was asked if I had any proof whatsoever. None. I had no proof whatsoever. Was advised to trust it to the Lord's hands and just let it go. It would endanger me and I couldn't prove anything... Rose had never once spoke of suicide, but murder, yes, that we discussed. And another thing. When I was talking to 'him' he was rambling on about there being two guns, identical even, and he had sold the one. He didn't know that she even had a gun... I didn't care to listen to his alibi. I knew it was a lie. Rose died several years ago now, but I will never forget. How can I?

All that was extra. Rose was scrogged, but in a very violent way. Most people when they get bored or tired or weary of caring for their ailing family member, they go the civil route... Them, they are what I am terming a scrogen. Death by morphine, or death by cumadin, yeah, that's a good one. Thin out grannies' blood so much that she has 'fainting spells' and when she topples over she can break her hip and then the skilled doctors can operate on her and then when she bleeds out there is no accountability, no shame. Just a dead old lady that was in the way... But before that, don't forget the delusions. Yeah, grannie got delusional. Didn't like that new medicine... Made her dizzy, and then when no one would do anything about it, except for to force her to take it, then came the paranoia. Grannie wasn't paranoid. Grannie was scrogged.

This is a non-fiction introduction to my soon to be work in progress, The Back Track Conspiracies. I got issues and I have found a cut and dry and most likely very bloody way to deal with them. I'm going to let people run around being as ugly on the outside as they are in the inside. It sickens me. Maybe I can boil someone else's blood for a change. I'm coagulating over her. Thick and sticky and oh, so reddddddddddddddddd.

November is National Novel Writing Month. Don't be looking for a 'safe' Christian book. I am bleeding out of my box and there are bound to be casualties. Not for the faint. I have temporarily laid down my sword of the Spirit, which is the word of God, and I have picked up my machete which is my weapon of choice for those who had no choice and no voice.

Life is sacred.

God Bless America

2006-09-10T19:50:00.000-07:00

September 11, 2001 was a tragic day for our nation. I captured this picture yesterday. I'd say that it was a God thing. I was trying to capture a rainbow, but the Lord showed me His hand and hope for a future. We were driving down the road and I never saw the flag... that is until it appeared on my camera preview of the picture that I had just taken.

I wrote this poem weeks after that fatal day in September. It speaks for itself.

May the Lord add His blessings to my words.

TORN ASUNDER

The black claw of death
Gripped our Nation
Threatening to choke the life
Right out of her
But, United we stand
And our flags flying high
Determined to defend her or die

Dark was the day
That our innocence fled
As terror overtook our skies

The twin towers stood tall
The tallest of all
Stood tall in magnificent grandeur
As they came down
In a black plume of smoke
Humanity rose from her ashes

Free Enterprise was there
From executive to server
The tall and the small and the proud

We will not bow down
To the terrorists’ bondage
For we are the brave and the free

Those souls that were lost
Such a high price to pay
But the goodness within them
Built a tower that day
With a foundation built on the best

New York’s finest were there
Running hard into danger
And we will never forget
No greater gift could one give
Than to lay down his life for his friend
He’ll receive his reward in the end

Wisdom cries out
Her voice to be heard
God is in control

Then justice chimes in
Announcing Him
God will make things right

Vengeance is mine
Thus saith the Lord
I will repay my enemies
Burning up the dross
And redeeming the lost
With love, and with peace
And with mercy

Let not iniquity say
I have had my day
For you’ve not weighed the cost
Shot straight to Hell
In the fiery ball
Now dead in the fiery inferno

Yes, our innocence died
And America cried
That bleak and dark day in September

Just Cause I Can

2006-09-03T00:14:00.000-07:00

Another slight, (but only slight) disappointment. My entry for Miss Snark's current Crap O Meter missed the lottery draw. I guess that's okay as this is an incomplete manuscript and she has stated that that would be an automatic 'no thanks.' In the submission guidelines she did say that a work in progress was okay to submit. I guess she should have added, but will be rejected! (Although my rejection was not formal as I never made the random cut for entries.)

Anyway, I enjoyed the writing exercise. Character's Folly is far from complete. My characters balk when I suggest that maybe they are a short story... I really do need to get back to writing!

I haven't heard anything from that 'nice man' that I submitted my proposal of my two memoirs to. I googled him and wondered why I didn't do that first! Oh, the complexities of life! Oh, well. I had a friend tell me that what I did was charming. Another friend laughed and told me that she understood how it could bother me, who the guy is and all, but she thought that it was pretty amusing. She tried to be comforting but her chuckles kept me from taking her compassion for me and my publishing blunder too seriously. I won't elaborate but suffice it to say a 'Dear Sir' at the very least was most definitely in order!

Back to what I'm up to :

CHARACTER’S FOLLY
General Fiction

Dear Miss Snark,

While searching on the internet for an inspiration, a thought, or simply a reason to write, I found that you are now accepting submissions for your Crap O Meter. I have been a devoted Snarkling ever since your blog was recommended to me by a fellow Nanowrimo (November is National Novel Writing Month) contestant last November. She suggested that I bone up on my writing skills when I sent her a brief outline of my many writing projects and had stated that that I had written three Fiction Novels. She told me that I would have earned a Nitwit of the Day award from Miss Snark. Needless to say, I was filled with trepidation, and curiosity! I have not been disappointed with your website, nor have I been called the dread, Nitwit. I’ve come close, but no cigar!

Character’s Folly is an experiment in character development, and who could help an author to develop characters better than the actual characters themselves? From the ragged remains of a memory that is getting less proficient as time passes comes the discarded characters of my youth. They kept me from going to sleep one night, and have been nagging me ever since! They have even turned up on my blog. I was interviewing some of the characters from my current work in progress and I’ve been slam-blasted by these ‘other’ irate characters. “When the heck are you going to finish our book?” My question is: how am I supposed to know? It’s their book, isn’t it?

Thank you for your time and consideration.

Miss Audrey

Character's Folly

Daniel McClure had absolutely had it. How long was he expected to sit idle in that woman's sub-conscious? He had never asked to be created, nor had he asked to be discarded! It suited him fine to exist within the pages of her little book, just fine. And to think - she had the story one-fourth of the way finished! Mitzi had been created and a manipulator, but a love Daniel would never forget just the same. Now he didn't even have the memories! The nerve!

Jessica Tomkins wasn't too happy either. She had been so young, and had so many hopes and dreams. Finally she had made her way to The Big Apple, New York City! It was all a girl could ever ask for! But where was that modeling contract? Where was the man of her dreams? Again, it was that woman who had planted such hope and aspirations into her heart, just to show her that it really didn't matter - at least not to her! The traitor!

Penelope Gernswick was much too much of a lady to speak out against her creator. She never had cared for the nickname the woman had given her, but otherwise she held no ill feelings. The life of a socialite and debutante wasn't all that it had been cracked out to be anyway. What was the difference if 'Lopey's' voice went unheard?

And then there was that buff blonde guy who wore blue jeans and a sports jacket to formal gatherings and was accepted just the same. Too bad his character was so shallow that his name became obscure!

It was time for a resurrection! Time for a revolt!

"Do you know of any other discarded characters?" Daniel asked with purpose. He needed to get some weight behind him; needed to find strength in numbers.

"I always wanted a little sister," Penelopy spoke out. "We could call her Suzie."

"What are you talking about?" Objected Jessica; not wanting to join in the ranks of not only the discarded, but with the un-created.

"Why not." Penelopy countered Jessica's obvious rejection of the idea. "If she would have kept writing, then maybe she would have thought of her."

"You're a dreamer." Daniel fussed, not at all upset, after all - wasn't Penelopy and he headed for a future in part two of the once planned four section novel? He wasn't supposed to know that; that woman had tried to plot around it, but he did. He could tell from the moment that Penelopy was created that she was made for him...

A Circle of Friends. So many storylines, so many ideas. And now they were gone! And not only that, but the title had been thought up by someone else, and their novel now owned the name! What a dreadful shame! And all because she decided to throw the book away!
Crap O Meter entry that will never be critiqued...

Do you think this is too much?

2006-08-19T12:23:00.000-07:00

Here is my latest plunge into the publishing industry. Why post it? Why not? I am hopeful, but cautious. Rejection is not my idea of a tasty intellectual snack. As I have briefly mentioned to a friend, These memoirs are more of a distant relative than really kin. Now how is that for dis-association of myself?

A Proposal of Two Completed Memoirs

Quote: F.M. Savage "How I write my sermons"

"If one is in dead earnest after some definite end, and is seen to be in motion toward that end, it is human nature to be interested in seeing whether he gets there." End Quote

EVEN IN SILENCE, The Journey of a Lady Preacher, was written in earnest, seeking to reach a definite end. Through my memoirs I take people in first person to places that I have been and show the grace and glory of God that I have experienced along the way. This is a completed manuscript that is about 50,000 words and there is a completed sequel, Follow me Down, A PATH OF PEACE, which is also about 50,000 words.

My insights are fresh and revealing. I have been honest and transparent. I have been redeemed. I share hopelessness and despair which is wrapped in hope and forgiveness. Jesus is the thread that binds the fabric of who I am and my stories are worth reading.

Thank you for your time and consideration.

Audrey Semprun

OUTLINE:

EVEN IN SILENCE, The Journey of a Lady Preacher

Opening Poem:

The High Road

East, a road, I’ve not yet traveled,
A place I have not seen.
I set my face East, towards the Eastern Gate,
But for now it is but a dream.
To South I say, I know you well,
My best intentions gone wry.
But I’ll set my pace East, and on I’ll go,
To the forever of sweet bye and bye.
The beaches of West know my name,
The salt, and the sand, and the sea.
For West was my home, I grew up there,
Yes, West was a great place to be.
I placed my future upon a star,
And released it unto God.
So Northward I look,
And hope and dream,
No, North doesn’t seem so far.
Now I travel with all that I am,
My life is in God’s hands.
So forward I go,
To the Eastern Gate,
To fulfill my destiny.
I’ll dig my feet in,
And through thick or thin,
I’ll reach Eternity.
12/21/05

Chapter One
"Whom Shall I fear?"

Job 31:34 Did I fear a great multitude, or did the contempt of families terrify me, that I kept silence; and went not out the door?

I know fear. I understand the clutches that fear can have on a person’s heart. I know what it’s like to be afraid. I know what it’s like to be swallowed up in darkness and sink into the depths of despair. Depression is no stranger to me. Paranoia knows my name. Heart palpation’s were common and suicide was my friend. I wanted to die. I gave up. I had no desires. I had no strength.

Chapter Two
"Where Is God?"

Psalms 31:18 Let the lying lips be put to silence.

Abuse comes in many different shades of sorrow. In my life I have visited abuse first hand, and let me tell you, it’s not pretty. I’m not a bitter person. I’m not cowed. I’m not so wrapped up in self-loathing or self-pity that I can be of no service to anyone. Sometimes I think back on different perpetrators of my abuse and it angers me. Not in an unhealthy, emotional way, but in a real life down to earth way. Some things are just out and out not right.

Chapter Three
"The Cry Of My Spirit"

Psalms 32:3 When I kept silence, my bones waxed old through my roaring all the day long.

The Lord gave me a ministry very early on in my walk with Him. He even graced me with a name for that ministry. I am, Joyful Noiz Ministries, and have been for years. Only thing is, it is only in writing. I’m not published. I am not a public speaker or anything. Heck, I don’t even teach a Bible study. None the less, I am Joyful Noiz Ministries, and I always will be.

Chapter Four
"Oh, The Dread Silence"

Psalms 35:22 This thou hast seen, O Lord: keep not silence: O Lord, be not far from me.

In all of the uncertainties in life the above scripture is my prayer. I need the Lord to be by my side as I wade through the emotional roller coaster of the realm of the unknown. I need to know that He is with me, and that He will always be there.

Chapter Five
"Transitions"

Psalms 39: 2 I was dumb with silence, I held my peace, even from good; and my sorrow was stirred.

Change doesn’t come easy to me. As I consider what else I have written I can see that a lot of things don’t come easy to me! Oh well… Anyway, I am not fond of change. I like things to be the same. I don’t bore very easily to say the least. I guess constants can go hand in hand with absolutes in my life. Trouble is, the saying that the only thing that is constant is change, is so true. I’ve tried to encourage myself with a little phrase that I don’t even know where came from. “If nothing changes, then nothing changes.” Change is good, or so they tell me.

Chapter Six
"Baptized With Fire"

Psalms 50:3 “Our God shall come, and not keep silence: a fire shall devour before him, and shall be very tempestuous round about him.”

Our God is a consuming fire. Is it any surprise that He would use fire as it suits Him? I am not surprised. There are two specific ways that I consider fire when I think about the Lord. The first one is the Lord’s protection. He promises Jerusalem that she will be a city without walls, for He will be a fire round about her and will dwell in the midst of her. I have witnessed the protection of the Lord for years and years. Even before I came to know the Lord again after I had purposefully walked away from Him He protected me.

Chapter Seven
"The Mercy Of God"

Psalms 50:21 These things thou hast done, and I kept silence.

I have heard that God’s mercy is greater than His wrath. I believe that to be true. God is long-suffering, not willing that any should perish. My life is a testimony of the mercy of God. God is so very gracious. I was lost, destined to spend an eternity in Hell, were it not for the mercy of God.

Chapter Eight
"Seeking Treasures In Darkness"

Psalms 83:1 Keep thou not silence, O God

Isaiah 45:3 States, “I will give you the treasures of darkness and hidden riches of secret places:” And God has done just that. My favorite passages in the Bible are found in the book of Isaiah from Chapter 40 through to Chapter 66.

Within those pages I have not only found Jesus, but I have also found just exactly what that scripture had promised, treasures in darkness. Those treasures were not only in the Word, but also in the circumstances that I discovered the hidden riches of secret places.

Chapter Nine
"My Salvation Story"

Psalms 94:17 Unless the Lord had been my help, my soul had almost dwelt in silence.

Isaiah 53 (Quoted from, Out of the Darkness, a personal testimony) “Who hath believed our report?” It began. “And to whom is the arm of the Lord revealed?” That got my attention. I read on. “He was oppressed, and he was afflicted. Yet he opened not his mouth: he is brought as a lamb to the slaughter, and as a sheep before her shearers is dumb, so he openeth not his mouth.” And then down a little farther, “Yet it pleased the Lord to bruise him.” By this time I was crying. Could it really be Jesus they were writing about? How could it be any other? I reasoned within myself.

Chapter Ten
"Today Is The Day Of Salvation"

Psalms 115:17 The dead praise not the Lord, neither any that go down into silence.

I write with purpose. I write to bring to light the severity of the situation. We are mortal people. We have an immortal destiny. It is our choice whether we will spend that destiny in harmony with God, or in discord. Will we make peace with our Maker, or will we buy into the enemy’s lies? “He who dies with the most toys wins.” Wins what? Satisfaction? Fulfilled desires? Wealth? Stature? Or how about the age old, “If it feels good, do it?” Now, that’s a good one. Anything goes, right? Then how about the skies the limit? Do whatever you want.

Chapter Eleven
"A Cigarette, Some Hope, And A Prayer"

Psalms 115:17 A time to keep silence, and a time to speak.

I will work, while it is yet day. The darkness is coming when no man can work. What do I mean by that? What I mean is that things in the world are at rest right now. Things are calm. There is coming a time when there will be chaos and darkness of every imaginable kind. Already the world is taking on a bend for the night. It states in the Bible that good will be mocked, and evil will be embraced. That time has come.

It is not my station in life to address all of the controversial issues that are running rampant. It is my station in life to address the issues as they present themselves in my space and time. I can’t save the whole world, but I can save one soul at a time. Yet it is not I that saves, but the Holy Spirit that draws people unto Himself.

Chapter Twelve
"Every Knee Shall Bow"

Isaiah 15:1 In the night Ar of Moab is laid waste, and brought to silence.

There is an impending time that we are all going to choose sides. We are either in the Lord’s army, and in His favor, or we are not. We can choose to deny Him, but He cannot deny Himself.

I don’t stand on my beliefs because of a hopeful faith. I stand on my beliefs because of a conviction that I have deep in my soul, and a knowing in my spirit that tells me, IT IS TRUTH. I began seeking truth once I had experienced such a Divine change in my life. I wanted to do the right thing from that point on. I wanted to please the Lord.

Chapter Thirteen
"Accepted In The Beloved"

Isaiah 41:1 Keep silence before me, O islands; and let the people renew their strength: let them come near; then let them speak: let us come near together to judgment.

I joined the Thespians when I was in High School. It wasn’t because I was such a great orator. It was because I had a best friend that was. She did dramatic interpretations I think it was called. I remember listening to her as she practiced her recital.

‘Chris’, by Susan Webb… “Maybe if I tell you everything then you can tell me why people act so strange. I’ve never told one person everything, I mean everything. Oh, sure, I told those doctors just what I thought they needed to know, you know, like that guy that comes on that show every Tuesday night, no, wait a minute, they took that off. That really was a shame, I really did like that show…”

It’s funny that after so many years I can so vividly remember someone else’s speech. She was good at it though, and she was my friend. She did many other recitals and I couldn’t tell you a single line of any of them, but Chris, well, it was special. It was about a little boy who accidentally killed his friend. It was so powerful and moving that no matter how many times my friend told the speech I cried.

Chapter Fourteen
"Praise The Lord"

Isaiah 62:6 Ye that make mention of the Lord, keep not silence.

When I came to know the Lord as my personal Savior I had it a little rough, to say the least. I was alone with three kids and the only transportation that I had was a wagon, and it wasn’t a station wagon either, but a child’s toy. I would walk down the sidewalk feeling like a mother hen with her little chicks trailing behind. It really was a humbling experience to put it lightly. I learned a lot from that time in my life though, and wouldn’t change the experiences for the world.

Chapter Fifteen
"The Wrath Of God"

Isaiah 65:6 Behold, it is written before me: I will not keep silence, but will recompense, even recompense in their bosom.

There is a painfully obvious difference between ignorance and evil. When I was growing up making all of those terribly wrong choices I was plain out ignorant. I wasn’t evil. I didn’t try to come against God, or to deny His existence. Oh, I was rebellious, which it says in the Bible that it is the same as witchcraft, but I wasn’t Hell-bent.

Chapter Sixteen
"False Religion"

Jeremiah 8:14 The Lord our God has put us to silence, and given us water of gall to drink.

The heading for this chapter is, “False Religion” and a person might think that I am going to spend a good amount of my time going on a tangent explaining my theological beliefs and maybe even slamming what I personally consider to be ‘cults’. That is not true.

You see, there is a spirit that is prevalent in many hearts and lives and it is a religious spirit. It is even dangerously close to the scripture reference that comes against having a form of godliness, but denying the power thereof. And sure, now would be a good place for me to interject all the faults and what not of others, but I will not. What I am going to expound upon is myself.

Chapter Seventeen
"The Will Of God"

Amos 8:3 And the songs of the temple shall be howlings in that day, saith the Lord God: and there shall be dead bodies in every place; they shall cast them forth in silence.

“Please don’t mistake my kindness as weakness.” I have heard my husband use that phrase before, and every time it makes me feel so proud of him. My husband is a very compassionate man. He is also very stable and insightful. He has had this employee or that for years that have had some kind of substance or alcohol abuse that he has had to tolerate. I’ve asked him about it, and he tells me that they need him and that the Lord hasn’t released him from trying to help them.

Al helps people because it’s a part of him to do so. I am also compelled to help people. In doing so I have learned that it’s not always going to be appreciated, or even received kindly. I don’t help people to earn their approval, although that is always a special bonus. I help people because I enjoy it. I thrive when I am making a tangible difference in someone’s life.

Chapter Eighteen
"Practicing The Presence Of God"

Habakkuk 2:20 But the Lord is in his holy temple: let all the earth keep silence before him.

When I was a baby Christian I had a time early on in my walk that I would fast about a week out of every month. It was a wonderful time in the Lord. I would sense the prompting of the Holy Spirit for me to fast, and I would. If I felt the leading on a Monday then I wouldn’t take anything into my body except for water until Sunday morning. The reason I would break fast on Sunday morning is because my communion was my ‘break-fast’. I got so comfortable with fasting that I made myself break fast so that I wouldn’t develop an eating disorder.

During those times of fasting I would spend hour after hour in the Word and in fellowship with the Lord. Sometimes after days without food I would get really hungry. I would silently complain to the Lord that I was hungry, and I distinctly remember the Lord impressing in my spirit, “eat my words.” As it was the only food I was going to allow myself to eat until I broke my fast with communion I would get back in the Word and quit fussing.

Chapter Nineteen
"Remember The Miracles"

Acts 15:12 Then all the multitude kept silence, and gave audience to Barnabas and Paul, declaring what miracles and wonders God has wrought among the Gentiles by them.

The adoption of my sweet little Sara was a huge miracle in my life, but I would be amiss if I failed to remember the little things. I’ve found that God really is a God of details. He doesn’t miss a thing. I couldn’t say how many times I’ve gone looking for something and knew that the Lord was going to come through for me. I go expecting.

Chapter Twenty
"Hearing From God"

Acts 21:48 And when there was a great silence he spake unto them.

I recently completed a Bible study in my Sunday school class. The name of the course was “God’s plan for your life.” We had a unit on ‘hearing from God.’ It was really good and well worth bringing to my remembrance.

The Lord speaks to us in many different ways. One way that comes immediately to my mind is closed doors. I have even considered writing a book called, “God doesn’t close doors, He slams them!” I kind of thought that I might have mentioned that book before. I found it in Chapter Five. Maybe I won’t worry about writing that book after all. Surely by the time I get this all out of me I’ll have gotten it out of my system! I can’t help but smile. I know me too well…

Chapter Twenty-One
"A Faith Walk"

I Timothy 2:11 Let the women learn in silence with all subjection.

“You can go.” I heard it as plain as the day is long. I was ecstatic! I didn’t know how, but I knew that the Lord had opened an impossible door for me. Oh, there was no doubt in my mind that it was the Lord! I knew that I couldn’t go! I was a single parent with three small children. I couldn’t afford to go all the way across the country. But there I sat, elated! I was going to Baton Rouge, Louisiana to a Jimmy Swaggart camp meeting! Five full days of hallelujah praise and glory!

Chapter Twenty-Two
"Walk In Wisdom"

I Peter 2:15 For so is the will of God, that you may put to silence the ignorance of foolish men.

I never got this great urge to be a lady preacher. I never had this profound call. What happened is that I have evolved into a minister of the Gospel and I chose “Lady Preacher” as my signature when I joined a Christian Writer’s group online. It just suits me. It’s all about my writing really.

What I write shares the Gospel. When I had my ‘born again’ experience I began to first write songs, and poems and parables. I then began my first Christian novel. (I had begun a novel in my early twenties, but I had thrown it away.) Next I added a few short stories to my writing experience. I also write Scripture Chain Reference Stories, which are solely the word of God making a point using only scriptures. All of my writing is scripture based and deals with life issues.

Epilogue
"Worthy Is The Lamb"

Revelations 8:1 And when he had opened the seventh seal, there was silence in heaven about the space of half an hour.

I am a living epistle of the goodness and the grace of God. God has rescued me and ransomed me from a fate I could no way have avoided. I owe my everything to the Lord. He has shown me such grace and mercy. He has delivered me from a prison of emotional instability and torture. He has released me from the bondage of living a life of careless abandon.

I will walk all of my days in the light and the love of the Lord. I will one day cross out of this life and enter into the joy of the Lord. My destiny is in His hands, as my heart is in His care. I will trust the Lord at all times. His praise shall continually be in my mouth. My soul shall make its boast in the Lord, the humble shall hear there of and be glad.

Closing Parable:

The Seashell

A lonely lady wandered by the sea. The waves tumbled onto the shore in rhythm, as the sound of her feet softly made their own song.

Timidly stepping into the water, she felt something resting against her foot. She reached her hand down into the mysteries of the ocean floor and found that she had discovered a seashell.

The beauty of the shell captivated her, and she knew that it was to be hers, for she could not part with the treasure that she had found.

She clasped it next to her breast and was filled with joy of life. Her heart beat rapidly and she knew that there was something special about the shell that she had found.

Perhaps it can tell me the why of everything, she thought dreamily. She raised it to her ear, and it did. 1/85 A parable about Love. A parable about Jesus.

End

Outline:

Follow me Down, A PATH OF PEACE

Opening Poem:

Our Blessed Hope

I hear the sound, of a distant silence,
Telling my spirit
My Lord is near.
Leading me onward,
Leading me forward,
Leading me past the realm of fear.
Leading me to a hope of glory,
Leading me to a place of peace,
Leading me to His very presence,
Leading me to His sweet release.
Not right now, you can’t go with me,
But if you’ll follow, you can go.
Look well to all I have taught you,
And you my child, you will know.
The path I take, they’ve gone before me,
This path I take, will come again.
I am following in the footsteps
Of my Savior, and my friend.
And He will lead me ever onward,
To my home that’s far away.
Away from pain, and away from sorrow,
And away from you for a brief tomorrow.
He’s coming back, and I’ll be with Him.
He’s coming back, to claim His Bride.
He’s coming back, for His children,
For His family to join His side.
Let not your heart to be troubled,
Let not your spirit be dismayed.
Our hope could come at any moment,
Who can tell, maybe tomorrow’s today.
3/19/97

Note From Author
"Prophecy Smooth Things, So They Say"

Psalms 78:2 I will open my mouth in a parable: I will utter dark sayings of old.

Proverbs 14:12 There is a way which seemeth right unto a man, but the way thereof is death.

If it doesn’t hurt anyone, then how can it be wrong? When a person chooses to do what ever they please so often more than not it is themselves that get hurt, used, or disillusioned. We live in a day and time of the philosophy, “If it feels good, do it.” But you know what? Those warm fuzzy feelings go away. In their place so many times unrest settles into your spirit in a deep sense of dissatisfaction and sometimes self loathing. Peace is vanquished. (World Book Encyclopedia definition of vanquished: Defeated in a battle.) There is a battle that rages for our soul.

Chapter One
"The Path Isn't Always Smooth"

Genesis 49:17 Dan shall judge his people, as one of the tribes of Israel. Dan shall be a serpent by the way, an adder in the path, that biteth the horses heels, so that his rider shall fall backward. I have waited for thy salvation, O Lord.

There are many obstacles that try and keep us down, or from trusting God. One great obstacle that I have witnessed time and again is that great dreaded absolute, Death. I experienced death once again very personally just yesterday with the passing of my uncle. I had been contemplating writing about death, but not the death that came on the doorsteps of my thoughts. The death that I was contemplating was my cousin Kenny’s death which came so suddenly and unexpectedly a year ago. My Uncles’ death was one year and a day after I lost my cousin.

Chapter Two
"God Never Closes One Door Without Opening Another"

Numbers 22:24 But the angel of the Lord stood in a path of the vineyards, a wall being on this side, and a wall on that side.

God never closes one door without opening another, and He also never takes anything away from you without replacing it with something better. That is a truth that I have experienced to be true, and of great comfort.

I remember when I knew for a fact that it was time to leave California. How did I know? It was pretty clear! If it hadn’t been for the graffiti that began surfacing on my apartment complex’s walls, then it was most certainly when I was standing in my dining room and I watched a poor old lady get robbed down on the sidewalk right across the street from my apartment in broad daylight! Oh, she wasn’t close enough that I could shout or help, but she was close enough for me to know that it was time to be moving on!

Chapter Three
"Only God Knows The Secret Places Of Our Hearts"

Job 28:7 There is a path which no foul knoweth, and which the vulture’s eye hath not seen.

In my life I have found a serious tendency to hide my faults and to try and accentuate my strengths. Am I so different than other people? I think not. The trouble lies in trying to impress or appease others…

Compromise is a relatively simple enough word, but its ramifications are monumental. Now here would be a perfect place for an example. I can’t right off hand come up with one though. What does come to my mind isn’t an outright compromise, not like one would think, but a compromise just the same.

That would be when we compromise what we believe to be the right thing to do for what we ‘feel’ like doing. I pretty much know right from wrong. I also can pretty easily discern good from evil. That said, my question then is, “Then why do I act the way that I do?”

Chapter Four
"An Audience Of One"

Job 30:13 They mar my path, they set forward my calamity.

If God be for us, then who can be against us? It’s extremely important to dig your feet in, set your face, and keep steady your pace. It’d be real easy to pick up your toys and go home, and many do. Many people get disillusioned with people and completely drop out of the race. Who is the loser then? You can’t win a race if you don’t finish it.

What race? I’m talking about the race for the prize. The completion of the journey for that blessed day that the Lord announces, “Well done, my good and faithful servant, enter into the joy of the Lord.”

That prize won’t come without sacrifice or cost. Jesus laid it all on the line for our salvation, yet so many are destined for destruction and don’t realize that they have other choices.

Chapter Five
"What Kind Of Legacy Will I Leave?"

Job 41:32 He maketh a path to shine after him.

Isaiah 40:6-14 The voice said, Cry. And he said, What shall I cry? All flesh is grass, and all the goodliness thereof is as the flower of the field: The grass withereth, the flower fadeth: because the spirit of the Lord bloweth upon it: surely the people is grass. The grass withereth, the flower fadeth: but the word of our God shall stand for ever. O Zion, that bringest good tidings, get thee up into the high mountain; O Jerusalem, that bringest good tidings, lift up thy voice with strength; lift it up, be not afraid; say unto the cities of Judah. Behold your God!

Chapter Six
"Choices"

Psalms 16:11 Thou will show me the path of life.

If you sow to the wind, then you will reap a whirlwind. That is a scripture found in the Old Testament by an Old Testament prophet. The saying still holds true today. You will reap what you sow; it’s a matter of fact.

I could go onto a mini Sermonette, but I won’t. I don’t much feel like preaching. I guess I’m just tired and haven’t been feeling well. I’m pressing on anyway. ‘Choices’ is a difficult subject for me, as I personally don’t like them! Oh, it’s not so bad if the answer is obvious, but when there are several different factors and when the final result is of great importance, that is when I’d prefer to pass, thank you!

Chapter Seven
"A Double Minded Man Is Unstable In All Of His Ways"

Psalms 27:11 Teach me thy way, O Lord, and lead me in a plain path.

James 1:5-8 If any of you lack wisdom, let him ask of God, that giveth to all men liberally and upbraideth not; and it shall be given him. But let him ask in faith, nothing wavering. For he that wavereth is like the wave of the sea driven with the wind and tossed. For let not that man think that he shall receive anything of the Lord. A double minded man is unstable in all of his ways.

Chapter Eight
"The Unsearchable Depth Of God"

Psalms 77:19 Thy way is in the sea, and thy path in the great waters, and thy footsteps are not known.

Isaiah 55:6-13 Seek ye the Lord while he may be found, call ye upon him while he is near: Let the wicked forsake his way, and the unrighteous man his thoughts: and let him return unto the Lord, and he will have mercy upon him; and to our God, for he will abundantly pardon. For my thoughts are not your thoughts, neither are your ways my ways, saith the Lord. For as the heavens are higher than the earth, so are my ways higher than your ways, and my thoughts than your thoughts. For as the rain cometh down, and the snow from heaven, and returneth not thither, but watereth the earth, and maketh it bring forth and bud, that it may give seed to the sower, and bread to the eater: so shall my word be that goeth forth out of my mouth: it shall not return unto me void, but it shall accomplish that which I please, and it shall prosper in the thing whereto I sent it.

Chapter Nine
"Life Is For Living"

Psalms 119:35 Make me to go in the path of thy commandments; for therein do I delight.

There is a sense of joy that overshadows a true believer’s life. That joy can even be apparent in the midst of sorrow. I learned of my Grandma’s death on a Saturday and I sang with the choir on the following Sunday morning. I didn’t want to give in to the despair that was threatening to wrap itself around my spirit.

I had the opportunity to return to the place of my childhood and go to my Grandma’s memorial. I had been praying that I would be allowed to see my Grandma just one more time and to be able to hug her neck. I didn’t get to see her alive, but when I passed by her casket as I paid my last respects, I leaned over and I hugged the neck that used to be my Grandma’s. Oh, sure, I knew that she wasn’t there, but I had been praying to hug her neck, and that was the last chance I had to do it.

Chapter Ten
"Absolute Point Of Reference"

Psalms 119:105 Thy word is a lamp unto my feet and a light unto my path.

Psalms 119:11 Thy word have I hid in mine heart, that I might not sin against thee.

I know that I have stated quite adamantly my desire for absolutes in my life. I’m thinking that the references are most likely in Even in Silence. I thrive on absolutes, and the greatest comfort and satisfaction that I have is in knowing that the word of God stands forever. People can deny it, and they can refute the validity of the truth within the pages of the Bible, but they can’t change the meaning or the permanence of the holy word of God.

In the beginning was the word, and the word was with God, and the word was God. The same was in the beginning with God. Those couple of sentences are the first words in the book of John. In those words are not only an absolute, but a mandate from God the Father to acknowledge Him as also God the Son.

Chapter Eleven
"God's Disclipline"

Psalms 139:3 Thou compasseth my path, and my laying down, and art acquainted with all of my ways.

Have you ever felt the sting of, ‘I never get away with anything,’? Boy, I have! All the time, it seems. I never get away with anything! The biggest problem with that is, that I shouldn’t be trying to in the first place! Now isn’t that an eye opener?

And you know who generally ‘catches’ me? My poor hubby! And boy does he get mad! I guess hurt is the better way to put it. He can’t believe it when he finds me trying to pull one over on him. Only it’s not really him that I’m trying to get over on, it’s just principle mainly. Still, I know that when I pull something and get caught that I deserve the reprimand, and he doesn’t deserve the hurt.

Chapter Twelve
"Overcoming"

Psalms 142:3 When my spirit was overwhelmed within me, then thou knewest my path.

I was catatonic with disappointment once. I spent a few days in the darkness of my room, crying. I couldn’t seek comfort. The Lord delivered me out of the hurt and devastation that I was experiencing with a song. I had gone on a short road trip with my hubby, even though I didn’t want to go. On the trip the Lord gave me a song. As I wrote the song the oppression lifted and I was set free from the bondage of the situation.

The memory of that time is still a bitter pill, but no longer unbearable. It just came to my mind, but isn’t anything that I’ll share. The important part of the deal is that the Lord was faithful and delivered me even when I was too upset to be able to seek Him. I was too hurt and overwhelmed to cry out to God. In His infinite care and mercy God reached out to me.

Chapter Thirteen
"Even As By Fire"

Proverbs 1:15 Refrain thy foot from their path.

I am not going to attempt to get to Heaven by going through Hell. Now that may seem like a strange statement, but I mean it. I hold somewhat to what I’ve heard to be called a Calvinistic view. I believe with my whole heart that I am eternally secure in my salvation.

Do I feel that my faith gives me a right to sin my heart out and the Lord will accept me anyway? Not at all! I would no way want to stomp my way up to those pearly gates and announce my arrival and demand what is rightfully mine! I have been equally persuaded that a person can lose their salvation if they are living like the devil and turn their back on God. Listen to what I am saying.

The reason that I am secure in my belief that I am eternally saved is because I am sincere in seeking the Lord and I live to please Him. Sure, I fall terribly short, but I’m still out there trying. I’m not living like a heathen and pretending to be a saint. God knows the secret places of our hearts. He knows if we are only in this whole Christianity thing for the ‘door’ prize. There are no secrets that can be kept from the omniscience of Almighty God. Our all-knowing Creator isn’t going to have the wool pulled over His eyes so to speak. We aren’t going to be able to deceive the Father of lights with darkness and secret sins.

Chapter Fourteen
"Seize The Day"

Proverbs 2:9 Then thou shalt understand righteousness, and judgment and equity, and every good path.

I saw courage speeding down the sidewalk on a wheelchair today. Hanging on with their hair flying in the wind were two little girls. And then to top off this unbelievable picture a third little girl standing on the back of the wheelchair hanging on as they flew along… What an amazing sight! This woman was tooling down the sidewalk, I kid you not, and with three little girls all sharing her wheelchair. Incredible!

I wanted to stop my car and go and follow them. I wanted to know more. I wanted to know what put that young woman in a wheelchair, and what gave her the courage to stretch herself way outside of her limitations and throw caution to the wind and dare to live! They weren’t just moseying along I tell you! They were really going at a breakneck speed for a wheelchair!

Chapter Fifteen
"A Hard Lesson"

Proverbs 4:14 Enter not the path of the wicked.

Oh, be careful little mouth what you speak… The words to that little song are so very instructing, and yet so evasive! How many times do we find ourselves in situations that we really can’t quite figure out how we could have ever gotten there?

I ran into a woman today that I had crossed paths with before. We didn’t speak; in fact, I turned the other way and made a conscious decision not to look her direction again. Now why would I have someone that I felt so strongly about that I would do that? Because of my mouth, that is why. And I hadn’t even done anything wrong! I had gotten into a situation that I thought that she would rectify as she was a business owner and I was certain that she would handle the dispute between one of her employees and me. Boy was I wrong!

Chapter Sixteen
"Right With God"

Proverbs 4:18 But the path of the just is as the shining light; that shineth more and more unto the perfect day.

Jesus exhorts us to, “be ye perfect, as I am perfect.” Now, isn’t that a tall order? I’m thinking so, especially after my last chapter! Don’t think that isn’t still fresh on my mind! I enjoy the Lord’s sense of humor. He’s working on me, and having a time at it, and I’m being worked on, and not always all that ecstatic! I know what the Lord expects from me, but I sure don’t always produce!

My pastor is always reminding us to put our faults and our weaknesses under the blood. He will softly remind us to First John One Nine it. First John One Nine states that if we confess our sins then God is faithful and just to forgive us our sins and cleanse us from all unrighteousness. I’m pretty good at putting things under the blood, and why not? That is the key to where all forgiveness flows and also the key to a ‘right’ relationship with God. I don’t want to be at odds with my advocate and my Savior! I want the Lord to stick up for me and to be on my side. It states in the Bible that if I hold iniquity in my heart then the Lord will not hear me. When I cry out to God I need Him to hear me!

Chapter Seventeen
"Faith Seeds"

Proverbs 4:26 Ponder the path of thy feet, and let all thy ways be established.

My past caught up with me today. Her name rings so many distant memories. Not all of them are good, but so many of them are. She and I go back a long way, and in this relationship, she goes down pretty far. By the time that we had met I had already found my footing, but her path was not sure. That’s an understatement.

My friend, Dana and I met when she was just a kid. She was out there though. She was busy doing what she wanted to do. She was full of ideas and ideals. She was also full of mischief… She didn’t mean any harm, but her life was a mess.

I won’t go into all of the things that she has had to overcome through the years, but I will say that she has had to deal with enough adversity to last several lifetimes. It is only by the grace of God that she is even alive today to be contacting me, let alone to share such a good report!

Chapter Eighteen
"Divine Favor"

Isaiah 26:7 The way of the just is uprightness: thou, most upright, dost weigh the path of the just.

I’ve been wandering around for several years now doing my best to do the right thing. I have been rewarded for that diligence with what I could only call Divine favor. I have been so fortunate in so many different areas of my life. I have a wonderful husband. I have been blessed with six healthy children all of which I have a good relationship with. I live in a beautiful home in a nice community. I have many things to be thankful for.

I’d like to elaborate on a friendship that I have been blessed with. I know that I have been incredibly blessed to not only know this couple and their teen age son, but to also have the privilege to call them my friends. I’m not going for sensationalism here. I just believe that I have had a chance of a lifetime and isn’t that what I’m about, sharing moments?

Chapter Nineteen
"Relationships"

Proverbs 5:6 Ponder the path of life.

In the opening of EVEN IN SILENCE, The Journey of a Lady Preacher, I started out with two pretty lengthy scriptures, (Psalms 138 and Psalms 139.) I didn’t pick those scriptures at random. I picked them with purpose. They speak volumes to my soul. (Or should I say spirit?) Within those two chapters it is established that God knew me before I was born and that He was going to complete the work that He has begun in me.

I never fully understood the concept of being known before I was born, that is until I was impressed in my spirit that my first born son was going to be fathering another child. I was in my extremely spacious bedroom doing my laundry when I heard the internal prompting of the Holy Spirit speaking to me. Just out of the blue, on an otherwise ordinary day.

“Bryan is going to have another baby.”

Chapter Twenty
"Commitment"

Joel 2:8 They shall walk everyone in his path.

“Grandpa, why are you so mean to Grandma?” I was
indignant, I was tired, and I was also very pregnant. That was not a great combination! I had been awakened at about five in the morning to the sound of my Grandfather making unreasonable demands upon my Grandmother. I was not a happy camper!

I had lividly hobbled out of bed and I confronted my not-so
nice Grandfather who was sickly and bed-bound. I stood over him with all of my wrath and indignation. I was just and I was angry. I was also shocked… I had scared the poor old man half out of his wits. I’m not sure if anyone had ever confronted the man about his bad behavior before. Not only that, but he was a helpless invalid! Shame on me!

Chapter Twenty-One
"The Lord's Army"

Isaiah 43:16-19 Thus saith the Lord, which maketh a way in
the sea, and a path in the mighty waters; which bringeth forth the chariot and horse, the army and power; they shall lie down together, they shall not rise: they are extinct, they are quenched as tow. Remember not the former things, neither consider the things of old. Behold, I will do a new thing; now it shall spring forth; shall ye not know it? I will even make a way in the wilderness, and rivers in the desert.

God is going to lay it all on the line, and it will be His people
that are left standing. There isn’t a power in heaven or on earth that can come against the almighty power of God. But don’t think that there won’t be opposition. Already the masses are trying to gain strength in numbers. A scripture in the book of Romans comes right straight to me. “What shall we then say to these things? If God be for us, then who can be against us?”

Chapter Twenty-Two
"The Diety Of Christ"

(A Scripture Chain Reference Story)
A Labor of Love
I Corinthians 12:3 Wherefore I give you to understand, that no man speaking by the Spirit of God calleth Jesus accursed: and that no man can say that Jesus is the Lord, but by the Holy Ghost.

References: Holy Bible King James Version

1. Isaiah 48:12
2. Revelation 1:8
3. Revelation 1:11
4. Revelation 1:17,18
5. Isaiah 9:6
6. Luke 2:11
7. Revelation 21:6
8. Isaiah 12:2,3
9. Jeremiah 2:11-13
10. Isaiah 44:3
11. John 4:10
12. John 4:14
13. John 7:38
14. John 4:22-24
15. John 14:6-10
16. John 3:5,6
17. Isaiah 26:2-4
18. Isaiah 26:9
19. Isaiah 55: 6
20. Isaiah 25:1
21. Revelation 19:11-13
22. John 1:1,2
23. Psalms 23
24. John 10:11
25. Isaiah 40:10,11
26. Hebrews 13:5,6
27. Jeremiah 13:15-17
28. John 1:1-10
29. Isaiah 58:10,11
30. John 12:35
31. Matthew 5:14-16
32. Isaiah 45:5-7
33. Mark 12:29-31
34. Titus 1:1-4
35. Titus 2:10
36. Titus 2:13-15
37. Isaiah 44:8
38. Mark 11:22
39. Luke 18:7,8
40. John 8:29
41. John 16:32,33
42. John 3:13
43. John 8:58
44. John 10:30
45. John 10:37,38
46. John 12:44,45
47. Isaiah 45:21-23
48. Romans 14:7-11
49. Philippians 2:9-11
50. I Timothy 3:16
51. Luke 8:39
52.Luke 10:16-24
53. Isaiah 29:13,14
54. Jeremiah 5:21,22
55. Job 28:28
56. Matthew 10:16-22
57. Psalms 27:14
58. Luke 21:19
59. Matthew 24:9-13
60. Isaiah 24:18
61. Matthew 16:24,25
62. Mark 13:13
63. Matthew 28:18-20
64. Isaiah 25:8,9
65. Isaiah 26:19
66. II Corinthians 5:14-21
67. Galatians 2:20
68. John 3:3
69. I Corinthians 15:22
70. I Corinthians 15:26
71. I Corinthians 15:41-47
72. I Corinthians 15:53-58
73. John 3:5,6
74. Galatians 1:11,12
75. Revelation 19:10
76. Jeremiah 9:23,24
77. Deuteronomy 6:4,5

Reflections on Love

I reached to give my Lord my heart and realized that I had already given it to him. Then my soul came into my mind and I realized my soul never was mine to give. Always my Lord has owned my soul. I took a breath and realized my Lord is my breath. The “I love you’s” I have already and will continue to fulfill. Now for the “And yours”
2/6/85

Closing Poem:

Growing to Perfection

Beyond the powers of darkness lives our Savior, Jesus, the Christ, the precious Son of God.

Lord of lords, King of kings, Priest and Prophet, the living Word, our Messiah.

His light is shinning brilliantly for he is The Bright and Morning Star, Emanuel, The Prince of Peace;

And he is reigning with sunshine, creating a rainbow, from the Alpha to Omega, of hope, in the heart of man.

He is Faithful and True, a Loyal Servant, our Friend, Almighty God Incarnate, the Son of man.

A heart right with God will shed its life sustaining blood for others, as did the Crucified, Sacrificial Lamb of the Calvary Cross. Sacrifice proves the depth of a love.

Challenged, but undefeatable, the Comfort of Love will enable even the frailest of flowers to grow in courage and knowledge, despite the fiercest winds of doctrine threatening to destroy the tender plant.

Richly scented, as the petals of a rose as it opens bravely, patience delicately perfumes time, sending a strong sweet smelling aroma of wisdom into the air.

Fancy free and joyously a little bee hums happily, carrying wisdom’s nectar to the shore of disbelief, stinging the blind eyes of doubt into seeing Truth.

Doubt is left in the wake of faith as Truth righteously feeds hungry souls with the Gospel of The Bread of Life.

Spiritually propelled, Truth dares to roar down the treacherous waterfalls of circumstance, without fear, to where the calm water of Eternity lead to where the waters run deep, and where Our Great Redeemer catches Hell with his Omnipotent net of Power, and casts it, along with Death, down forevermore, as the Rock of our Salvation stands exalted, giving abundantly life everlasting in flowing fountains of Mercy. Grace is gloriously seen in the pollen of the full bloomed Rose.
9/6/85

End

If anyone has actually made it to the bottom of this post, and that by reading and not merely scrolling down, then I would offer to post for that 'honest' soul any chapter in either of the two books upon request.

What Would Sarah Say?

2006-08-16T16:48:00.000-07:00

So hubby tells me, "I think that the Lord wants me to give Vickie this car."

Now me, I'm not so certain. The last time that hubby gave away a car, well, okay, not the last time, but one time, it came back to bite him. Oh, he didn't get miffed, but I sure did! I won't go into any details as this blog is after all, world wide and I don't need to be airing dirty laundry in this forum... Anyway, I wasn't as confident as my hubby appeared to be that hubby was actually hearing the voice of God in this situation. Vickie is a nice woman, don't get me wrong. I just wasn't feeling quite as generous I guess I'm saying.

I know that doesn't put me in that great of a light, but that's just how it is. I know that my husband works awful hard for everything that we've got and he put that paint job on that car himself. It took him a lot of time and effort, not to mention the expense of materials and the purchasing of the car in the first place. With my job I just don't help out with our living expenses all that much and I hate that hubby has to work so very hard.

Anyway, I tell hubby that I'm not so sure about the deal and I tell him of my reservations. Hubby is ready to walk away from the idea, except he drops this wonderful thought on me. "I just don't want to miss God on this." Okay, so I have to step back and consider it all. It's my friend and hubby has expressed that it is me that has to offer the car... So I get to thinking about it but I say nothing to hubby. A few days pass and again hubby expresses his great desire to give Vickie the wagon. This time he chimes in, "I think I'll give Vickie the car. I am going to offer it like Abraham did Isaac, and if God doesn't want me to give it up, then He will stop me."

That's when I got really creative. I asked hubby, "I wonder what Sarah would have said about Abraham offering up Isaac? I bet Abraham didn't ask her if she wanted him to sacrifice their son."

Hubby responded like what I would call a typical man, now correct me if I'm wrong! "She would probably have done the same as Job's wife did, tell him to curse God and die."

He had a point. I bet Sarah wasn't asked her opinion in the matter.

I released any concern that I had in the deal. I did insist that it was his car and his responsibility to give it to the woman though. Hubby had been clear to me that a gift that didn't cost you anything was not a gift at all. As it was not mine to give, I was quite happy to leave him to the task at hand.

Our pastor had been speaking on tithes and offerings at church. Hubby had stepped out of the sanctuary, but I didn't miss the point when the pastor said that the Lord blesses us with an overabundance so that we can give from our excess. The wagon was an extra car that was just sitting in our driveway, along with two cars, a mini van, a truck, and an SUV. Cars to my husband are worthy investments...

You know, the first thing that Vickie said was that she was going to use the car and go to Las Vegas to see her son. She hadn't seen him all summer and her car (that is broke down) wouldn't get her there. The wagon will serve her well.

"You just watch how God blesses me." Hubby smiled as he released the reliable transportation to the single mother of three...

I shouldn't have kicked and fussed so much. I know exactly what being a single mother of three looks and feels like. I was there. One of these days hubby's going to tell me that the Lord told him to give away a car and I won't give him any grief at all... maybe... one day...

Spoiling Small Child

2006-08-12T23:13:00.000-07:00

VOTE FOR SARA! My youngest is running for class President! My shy little Sara. She has already been elected to be the classroom secretary! Then she won a place on Student Council and now she's running for class President! Of course I am amazed, and pleased beyond reproach!

I made up these pretty little flower pots for Sara to distribute to the 5th grade teachers and one for the office, another for the library and then one for the computer room. We'll be using this photo on her campaign posters so that whenever the students see the pretty flowering (red) plants then they will think about my Sara. Each pot has Sara 4 on the rim and VOTE on the base of the pots. Hubby fussed that I wasn't writing like people read... Sometimes a girl's just got to do what a girl's got to do! I added the 4 to appease him. I would have just left it with Sara on the rims and vote on the bases myself.

It took me quite a while, but an accomplishment that I can be proud of! I already had the little pink pots so I just needed to glue a little plug in each one so that they didn't need a drain plate and then I had to write on each pot, and then paint them. I had a plant that I wanted to transplant and so I used it for the pots. They are a succulent and super easy to deal with. Now just to keep them alive! I had dealt with a few starts a week or so ago that is doing well and so I am extremely hopeful!

Sara got up the nerve to go down town with me today and audition for The Wizard of Oz musical that The Elks Theatre is going to be putting on in October. Except for when we got to the cost of $350.00! I had no idea! Sometimes I amaze myself at my ignorance! Here I was hoping that it wasn't a group all ran by politics! It turned out worse than I ever imagined! The main characters are charged $600.00 each! Not only all that but there are three different casts!!! Talk about a major financial money-pit! I know that the Elks Theatre is an historical landmark, but really! Anyway, I was shocked and a bit miffed. It took Sara a lot of courage to even consider auditioning. Sara has a beautiful voice. Once I saw how much cold cash the peoples expected to have handed into their hot little hands the small child and myself exited quietly with her autistic friend right beside us. At that point in time we were all happy to have each other.

My child is socially challenged and this production could have really done her a lot of good. She's come a long way, but still, any time that she stretches herself outside of her narrow boundaries is good for her emotional well-being. And the friend, the little autistic boy. Well, I don't even have to say how much having a part in this production could have meant to him!

Oh well, such is life. There will be other opportunities. We have a nice little local theatre. I'm going to try and keep my eyes open for when they audition for their next production. And while I'm at it, I'll make sure to call the friend to join my little girl!

I think that if Sara had had her heart set on being in The Wizard of Oz then her daddy would have forked over the dough. It's a lot of money, but he knows how much good it would have done her. But then again, maybe not. The schedules that we would have had to keep were horrendous! Anyway, Sara wasn't all that sure that she would be able to be in front of so many people in the first place. She has sang in the school's talent show two years in a row and had a solo in a church program last summer, but otherwise she keeps a low profile. Last year she sang "Soak up the Sun" with a soundtrack by Cheryl Crowe and had the whole auditorium silent as they listened to her sing. Her voice is captivating and it makes me so proud of her.

I could brag on, but I guess I won't. I'm glad that I got Sara's little pots planted. Now all they have to do is bloom! We have about a week for them to get acclimated to their pots. I made an extra one for Sara to keep, and one to give to a friend. They will be gifts to the teachers whose classes they are displayed in... (if such a thing is allowed!) Anyway, that's my blog.

I Don't Like to Fold Cold Clothes

2006-08-10T21:56:00.000-07:00

You know, I don't mind doing the laundry, I really don't, but please, please, don't expect me to fold cold clothes! There is something warm and friendly about laundry fresh out of the dryer. Not hot mind you, but warm clothes. Hot clothes are not pleasant. And if you're messing with hot clothes then you had better watch out for the snaps and zippers 'cause they'll burn the stink out of you. And not just your hands either. If a snap happens to rest against any exposed skin then you've had it. Hot clothes tend to be wrinkled too if they get too hot. And cold clothes, well, that's a no-brainer. Cold clothes are most definitely wrinkled! They are also just outright unfriendly to the touch. There's a stiffness most unpleasant about cold clothes and the coldness of the clothes is plain out anti-social. But warm clothes, ah, now that's a pleasure. They feel nice and they look nice.

Notice the picture above. Now those were some warm clothes. And not just 'touched up' warm, but fresh warm clothes, although there really is no difference whether they are fresh warm or touched up warm as long as the touched up warm clothes have had adequate time to be 'freshened up'. And don't go mixing darks and lights! It's okay to wash light colored clothes with your whites, so long as you don't intend to use chlorine bleach, which I never do anyway. Have you ever noticed that if you use chlorine bleach on your whites they get this 'used' feel pretty straight away. And forget about the elastic in socks and uns if you use too much bleach! You may as well have gained fifty pounds overnight because the things just hang after your miraculous weight reduction when you go to wear the things! And if you're washing the darks with the lights then your pinks and yellows will have a not so pretty grey hue to them, not to mention your not at all whites...

I'm not a gardener. I love pretty trees and shrubs and flowers, but I hate, and I do mean hate, to get my hands dirty. There is something just utterly yuk about wet, or dirty, or sticky hands that drives me to tears. And then what really gets me is when I get that dish towel all soggy from washing off and drying off my hands while doing various kitchen chores. The same thing happens when I'm getting ready for the day. I'll put on lotion and wash and dry my hands. Then I'll remember that I hadn't rubbed in all of the lotion on my legs. Back to the sink when I'm done and to the now lightly damp towel. I won't get redundant, but I must wash and dry my hands about ten times by time I get my makeup on and my hair done and lotioned up. Again with the soggy towel! I do not like soggy towels! And cold soggy towels, forget about it!!! And don't be leaving that dish cloth in the sink floating in water if you want me near it! Wring it out, it's not that difficult!

Or how about if I get out of the pool and for any given reason decide to soak my head again before calling it a day? That has got to be about the worst if I don't have an extra towel and have to actually dry off with a damp towel! When that happens, which is incredibly rare, I am miserable!

While I'm all about what I don't like I'd like to say that I do not like to look at fat bellies. Now, a trim and tan tummy is youthful and cute, but when blubber is all you have to parade then you need to pull some length into your shirt and go home. And I don't appreciate knowing what kind of panties you have on either. Moderation in all things is the winning key!

I won't go flaunting my personal properties in public, and I'd appreciate it if you would pay me the same courtesy. And fat old men. Do me a favor. Wear a shirt at least!

There. That beats the heck out of worrying about the Middle East and the state of the Nation!

One of us is a Donkey...

2006-08-09T19:03:00.000-07:00

I got fired on Tuesday. Now, you be the judge who was the donkey in this deal. I'm not thinking that I was the donkey, but I could be wrong. Oh, and I guess I should mention that I didn't actually lose my job. I got fired from being a friend. (I didn't know that such a thing was possible!)

Okay, so here's the spill. (My version of course, and there will be no other.) I showed up Tuesday before last to 'visit' a friend. She was fussing that she wanted me to be the executor of her estate when she dies. More like the demolition squad to clear out her apartment I'd have to say. I've known this gal for years, and no, she is not, nor has she ever been one of my clients. She's just an eccentric old lady.

Anyway, I wrote her into my schedule as she lives about fifty miles from my home these days and I have clients that live in her area. I showed up as I had said that I would. She had been fussing that there were papers to be gone over and emergency contacts and what not. Well, I showed up and right out the gate I explained to her that I only had a half an hour (instead of the intended hour) because I had to work a lady into my schedule to get it balanced and that I had places that I needed to get to on my route.

She was oblivious to what I was saying. She told me that she wanted to put a cushion onto her mattress of her (at least Queen sized) bed. I told her that we'd better get a move on it then as thirty minutes go by really fast, especially when there are three huge bags of clothes and whatever else was cluttering the floor and bed that needed dealt with in order to do what she was asking. She sat in her chair and told me that I needed to just sit down for a minute 'cause she just woke up and didn't want to do anything quite yet.

That was when I mentioned that she had wanted to go over some papers with me. Her reply to that was that my hubby needed to be there also, as he was more saavy about finances. I told her that hubby wasn't no way going to be coming by to do anything as he wasn't interested in dealing with her affairs. I told her that if that was the case then she needed to get someone else to settle her business. (Now mind you, she was only imposing a little bit demanding my time and attention, but to insist that my husband drag himself into her apartment and disarray, that was asking way too much!)

Well, I was pressed for time and I told her that if we didn't deal with the bed straight away then I wasn't going to do it. What a mess, I'll tell you what! There was junk all over the place by the time we cleared the area and the bed. I told her that it was getting close to when I needed to go and she informed me that I hadn't gotten there until... Like I was on the clock! Wasn't nobody paying me for being there and I had the correct time going on anyway! (It's a fact. I live my life by schedules and I had somewhere else that I needed to be!)

Well, we managed to get the mattress deal straightened out and the bed back together and all of the junk out of the middle of the floor. Then she had me digging in a closet looking for a misplaced bag of pillow cases. After dragging I don't know how much stuff out of the closet I found what she was looking for and then I put everything back. Then I got the heck out of there. (And it hadn't been only thirty minutes either!) I told her that I'd see her next week, (which was this past Tuesday.)

Tuesday came around and I realized that I didn't have room on my schedule to fit in my friend as I had an extra client that I see every other week and I had forgotten about her and so I stopped by my friend's apartment to tell her that I'd see her next week as I had misjudged my schedule and I had places that I needed to be. That's when I got fired.

You see, it wasn't the noon visit that she was expecting. I was a couple of hours early. I couldn't help that. It was the only time that I had that I could swing by her place and I didn't want to just not show up. Add to that the fact that I was telling her that I couldn't come that day afterall and well, anyway, I had awakened her and boy was she grumpy! I told her that I'd come next week and she told me not to. She said that she was busy being interviewed (by who, I don't know, but if they assign her to me as an official client I'm going to decline. I figure that if I can't please her as a friend I don't no way want to try and have her as one of my clients!)

I asked her if I had offended her and she told me that 'yes, I had.' Well, humph! I was just trying to get where I belonged and you know, work my job! She was being overbearing and unreasonable. Sure, I had told her that I'd give her an hour, which I had to adjust my schedule so that I could as I had been assigned a new (paying) gig and I needed to reschedule so that I could fit everyone into my day. Anyway, I tried to reason with her but she kept on insisting that I leave and not bother to come back. Guess I won’t. So, you see. Clearly it was her that was the donkey, and I only the ass.... (World Book Encyclopedia definition of ass: 2. a fool...)

On a lighter note, a friend who is an artist gave me a lovely watercolor today. I guess that balances the not so good experience with a different, much more pleasant, memory and I’ll just keep on keeping on! Maybe if that other friend calls and needs me I’ll figure out how to work her back into my life. As things stand now, I’ve filled in my schedule and penciled her out! Such is life! Silly old woman! What part of 'I'm a busy woman' doesn't she understand?

I Like Fish

2006-08-04T07:36:00.000-07:00

"I like fish. I like fishing. I like to think about fish."

Now, that there, that is a quote that my kids love to remind me of. I have no idea what inspired me to say such a rediculously silly thing. I smile even now as I think about it.

I do like fish. I'm not fond of smelling them though. I find them to be quite putrid myself. I don't care if it's the little fishey in the fish tank that needs freshened up, or the poor wasted fish laying on the pier anxious to get it over with and be someone's dinner, or the fresh cooked fish that is now (not right now) stinking up my house. To me they all stink. Hubby has a word about having guests or being a guest either one in someone's home. "After three days even fish stink." I think before three days, but the point is impossible to miss.

Stink, yes, but I sure do enjoy them. I'm the person that they made the moving fishes screen saver for, I'm sure of it. I could watch fishes all day long. I love to see how they interact with each other. I used to watch my dad's fish as a child. He had some beautiful aquariums. Fish are like birds to me in their fanciful colors and freedom of movement and grace.

I could be a fish, or a bird. I love the water. Except for my ears bother me and I can't swim like I did as a child. I can't run like I did as a child either. I've considered how much I loved waterskiing. I don't suppose I'll do it again. Just no opportunity, and even if there was my knees or my hip would surely collapse, that is if my neck didn't fold first! Oh, the limitations of this old body! Sure, I'm still young, but some of my components would beg to differ. My youngest son asked me one day if I ever waterskied. I told him that he really didn't want to miss out on that experience!

I've taken my younger boys out on a big rubber raft that we have a few times. They are growing up now. They take the raft out without me these days. We all (my two youngest sons and my little girl) went rafting one day. I was sitting on the edge of the raft and I lost my balance. I tried to regain it and only ended up becoming an animated blimpie with my legs up and over my head! Talk about laugh. I almost drowned! Well, not quite, but I was so embarrassed and the children were so very well amused! Then I couldn't get back on the raft! They thought that was quite the hoot too, and me too. It was funny. I came in quite handy as the wind kicked up and while I was at hanging onto the rope so that I could get back to land in one piece I ended up being the tug boat for the raft! Oh, what a gloriously wonderful sun-shiney day! I could go on about how I would adventure were I a bird, but I'm happy just thinking about fish.

Now this is quite a rut!

2006-08-02T21:19:00.000-07:00

That's the back section of my property. If you look carefully to the far right, oh, never mind, it's out of the picture! I was going to say that you could see my path of peace, but I was wrong. That was just an 'oh, by the way' anyway. That's not what I'm going to talk about.

This rut didn't use to be there. My hubby asked his friend Bill, who just so happened to be sitting in the seat of a back hoe, if he could dig out a little channel for the water to drain. Well, this is what I found later that afternoon breaking up my view of my yard (which is currently green) stretching on out into the trees! I was so mad I could have bit bullets! I found that sweet husband of mine right away and asked him why he went ahead and dug out a driveway when we had agreed that the garage would have a separate entrance that didn't interfere with my view. On the back side of 'my' trees there is a dirt road that we had planned for hubby to use for his garage traffic. The poor guy was defenseless and not guilty!

That rut was, it turned out, a necessary evil. We get a lot of water run-off when it rains. I've told people before that we bought the prettiest piece of swamp land in town! Ever since Bill cut out that huge chunk of my yard the water problem has been completely eliminated.

Maybe that's the same with us. How so? Maybe we need deep chunks of ourselves mercilessly removed so that we can be a healthier person in the long run. It's painful to have to endure the deep-cutting of the Master's chisel, but in the long run all of that useless 'flesh' will open up a path for a fresh flowing of the Holy Spirit through our hearts and our lives.

And same as I misunderstood the rut that was so unsightly and unwanted in my yard, maybe that rut that I've been experiencing, that cutting away, will be just what I have needed to help me to be more rooted, more grounded, in Him.

But now that the soil is prepared, I must be about the Father's business. I must work while it is day. As my friend Spencer reminds me, "Watchman, watchman, what of the night?" The night comes when no man can work. I must be about my Father's business... It's early yet. I will read, and maybe, just maybe, tomorrow I'll write.

Circles...

2006-08-01T21:57:00.000-07:00

Yep, that's me. Going in circles! I can't write. Nothing. Nada! I keep on kicking myself for the choices that I've made and the choices that I can't make up my mind about! It's an endless circle of dysfunction! Totally unproductive!!! I bought this book, POD PEOPLE by Jeremy Robinson and I'm going to read it religiously! I feel like I'm ahead of the game, at least a little bit, as some of his suggestions in the book have been part of my overall strategy in my POD adventure all along! But then again, he's got a lot under his belt that ain't happening over here! I got nothing! Much like a neutered pet... That was way too witty to delete. I ain't so sure that anyone bothers to read this blog anyway... I did make a new friend, and maybe he'll stop by. A preacher no less. Perfect for me! If so, pretend I didn't get quite so clever please! LOL

I need motivation. I need an audience. I got so much to share and it's maddening to write to the wall. I did join a poetry group and that's a nice outlet, except for the fact that I don't write all that much poetry. Truth is, these days I don't write a whole lot of anything! How many times have I heard the old saying, "A writer writes" ? Ain't no writing going on over here. This writer is out to lunch! My characters aren't even nipping at my heels. I think I might have accidentally drowned them in my sea of forgetfulness!

Is there anyone out there? Does anyone have any suggestions as to how I can resurrect my passion for the pen? HELP!

Surely I'll be blogging again soon as I sure don't want this post to be my title page! Until then, I'll be reading Jeremy's book and getting my feet back under me!

MY BOOK ARRIVED, and it is LOVELY!

2006-07-22T21:17:00.000-07:00

I got my combination book back and it sure looks great! I couldn't be happier with it, that is unless it actually had the right cover on it! I changed the cover after I had already bought three of the books. One was for me and the other two were for clients of mine that told me that they wanted to buy my book. I already went through that before when I first published Even in Silence. I ended up buying back four books and letting the people have the books on me. Not this time! Except for now I still have to buy another book because of the change in the cover.

I shared the book with my pastor and he loved it! I told him that it is his copy, but I wanted to use it to proof-read it as no matter how hard I worked at it I knew that there would be errors. I found my first error when looking at the manuscript on the computer. Boy, was I mad! I feel better now though because my pastor was so excited about my book and he was really pleased with the acknowledgment that I gave him right in the middle of it. He told me that he wants me to do my edits in his book with a red pen and to be sure to sign it. He also told me that he wants me to sign the first book that I had mailed him that still has the eagle on the cover. He has been a great encouragement to me and for that I sure am grateful.

I had a situation with an editor that has me seriously considering self-publishing my novels. I was so against the idea, that is, until someone wanted to change some of my words... The edits were very good, but I flipped out. Then I thought that I got my legs back under me and she doesn't think that now is a good time to go forward... I can't blame her, and you know, instead of feeling remorse and like I have really messed up a great opportunity, instead I feel like maybe I need to re-focus and go a different direction. Even were I to submit to the editing, which once I recovered from the shock of all of the red markings on my work I found to be very wise and useful, still I will have a fight on my hands to ever see the thing in print... So why not just go ahead and do the whole thing my way? Christian houses will balk at subjects like premarital sex and illegitimate children, not to mention sexual abuse by the clergy and a drug addicted biker pastor. And how about my unsaved Pastor? Or the burning man sermon that talks right out loud about rejecting Jesus and going to Hell? And I'm not all that friendly with the gossiping hypocrites either! And that's just the first book. The second book deals with a former gay who is a gothic young man. Then there is the illicit affair that one of the faithful church goers is blatantly involved in. Or how about the bitterness one lady feels over knowing about the hypocrisy that she is privy to about the sex kitten parishioner? Surely there are other taboo subjects that are all over the place. Abortion is touched upon also: Once by a woman considering it, and again by a woman who actually went through with one. Nope, it's not pretty. I figure that there's no one that I won't offend somewhere within the pages of my sweet little books... If none of the above is offensive, then how do you feel about the baptism of the Holy Spirit? That one is one I've been suggested not to mention. All of these unseemly things are all wrapped around my little town and a God that still loves the people, in spite of their sins and their weaknesses. Lets see, how about this for a proposal, "My books are going to be a hard sell because they go against convention and dare to expose people for who and what they really are, a fallen people." There you go. Pick me! I'll be your worse nightmare!

Holding onto a Promise: An Analogy

2006-07-09T21:57:00.000-07:00

I'm going to be writing. I'm determined to finish my third novel in my Trilogy, Destiny's Child. I spent a few hours tonight just getting re-acquainted with my work in progress. It should have been called my work in closet... I couldn't even find my first notebook of the book! I was aghast! It turned up, I am happy to say.

Then I looked in my computer and not only did I have all of the youth's names and ages and all of that confusing information all laid out for me, but I also found that I had a whooping 68 pages already transcribed into my computer. All of my next books are going to have to be written in the computer. (Yeah, right! I have several notebooks that will have the honor of my first drafts... I think better when I write long hand, although I have been using my voice recorder and so I'm learning to think in a story telling sort of way too.)

What does all of this have to do with anything? I'm going to be absentee from my blog as I am determined to be about my writing, and I have three books that I need to read also. I'm still plugging away at reading "A Writer's Life" Written by Gay Talese and then I'm going to read and study "Book Proposals That Sell" by W. Terry Whalin . Then if I still have time, I am going to read a book that I saw advertised on Vicki 's blog site that I recognized from on my bookshelf, and so I'll read that also. It's called, "The Complete Guide to Writing and Selling the Christian Novel" by Penelope J. Stokes Ph.D. All of this in preparation for a writer's conference that I am determined to attend near my home in late October.

And what does all of this have to do with the caption and the photo? Well, the photo is of a project that I just completed. I combined my first book of memoirs, EVEN IN SILENCE, The Journey of a Lady Preacher with the sequel, Follow me Down, A PATH OF PEACE. The photo is the cover of the combined project. I'm still going to offer the single book, Even in Silence, and also the single book of A Path of Peace. I decided to let all three of the books share the same cover. I like the picture, and it was easy for me that way, and I like things to be consistent. I've stated before that I am not easily bored. Anyway, they belong together. The only real difference in the books is that the two single books are double spaced whereas the combined book has the 'professional' spacing that most 'store bought' books have.

The caption to my blog today is the title to something that I found when I was pouring over my abandoned manuscript, trying to make some kind of sense out of it. I can't remember where I posted this little short consideration, but it really felt timely for me. I have been discouraged here of late as I know that even though I have put so much time and consideration and effort into these memoirs, still, they are not that illusive 'book contract' that I'm believing to get one of these days, and hopefully not too terribly long from now!

I'll quit gabbling on now and post the short consideration. God bless, and take care.

Holding onto a Promise: An Analogy

Three Definitions -
Publish: To offer for sale or distribution
Author: To write various things
Novelist: To write a novel or novels

I adopted my youngest child at birth. It's never been a secret. One day when my child was about three months old I ran into a friend at the grocery store. My baby was home with her daddy. "Oh," she says to me, appearing surprised that I didn't have my baby with me. "Do you still have your baby?" Now, what were my choices? My baby died? They took her away? The question brought immediate fear to my heart. I pushed down the fear and went on.

I write. It's a passion, a dream, a promise: No less a promise than the child that I had believed God for and received. "If you write it, I'll bring it to print." The Lord spoke those words to my spirit it's been close to 20 years ago now concerning my first novel. That promise has urged me forward. Not too long ago the Lord impressed in my spirit that He was speaking of not only my first novel, which I completed, but also my other writing.

So oftentimes when someone becomes aware that I write I hear the challenging question, "Oh? Are you published?" What are the choices? The dream dies? Someone takes my dream away? I press on, published or not. I hold onto my dream. It's just as real to me as my little child's hand that I hold tightly in my own. That haunting question - so frequently posed as an accusation does not negate the gift. I am trusting the Lord to fulfill the promise. Meanwhile, I'll write.

Audrey Semprun
Joyful Noiz Ministries
10/01/05

BOOK REVIEW

2006-07-06T21:58:00.000-07:00

The books that are being reviewed in the July-August issue of The PODS Magazine (Issue #3) are Love the Man You Married, Chocolate Milk Likes Me, and Even In Silence. (This book was reviewed with the original cover which has been replaced by this cover.)

Even In Silence: The Journey of a Lady Preacher
By Audrey Semprun
Copyright ©2005
ISBN: none
$10.75 @ www.lulu.com/content/197711

This is a partial review. The complete review can be found in The PODS Magazine (Issue #3)

“Christian story lovers rejoice! This is a book
with few grammatical errors and a great story
full of hope and finding Christ.”

RATING given by POD Magazine was a 4!

R A T I N G S G U I D E

A 5 is the best book for your money. This is a book that is superior in
every way. You can’t live without it. It’s destined to be a POD legend, and
every one gets a PODS Editor’s Choice award.

A 4 is an all-around good book. It has very good quality and meets the
high standards of professional books from major publishing houses.

A 3 is what we’ll call “so-so”. It’s an in between book, with which
you can go either way…like it or hate it. It has about as many pros as
cons.

A 2 is a book that has more cons than pros. If you want to read it at all,
get it out of the library. If it’s not in the library, you might just want to
skip it.

A 1 is, not to be offensive, but a horrible book. We’re sorry to the author,
but we don’t think anybody would want to read this.

This Writer's Life

2006-07-04T23:29:00.000-07:00

I’ve never been fond of having to use a dictionary to read a book. I have considered getting one out to read Gay Talese's book, A Writer’s Life, but I won’t. I want to grasp what is meant to be stated to the layman in me, the undereducated scholar that I am. I don’t use high and lofty words and I can pretty much get by as far as understanding context goes.

I was busy with the busyness of the pursuit of being a writer myself, and so passed on any festivities tonight concerning our Nation’s celebration of its freedom, this being the Fourth of July. I’m either reading, or writing away, when out comes hubby from a premature, pain pill induced, slumber. He’s been agonizing over hurting body parts for too long now.

He is obviously groggy and half-asleep. “What’s all that banging?” He asks me, perplexed, as I am obviously not the cause of his disrupted sleep. “It’s fireworks,” I told him equally perplexed at his perplexity. “Oh,” he says as he understands the strangeness of his question and concern. “Are you okay?” I asked him, genuinely concerned for him, and not at all concerned that I am missing the bright lights and sprays of sounds and color that were filling the night air. Well, okay, I have to admit, my town doesn’t compare to my years and years of much larger firework celebrations while growing up in a much more advanced and populated California. “No,” hubby states as he fumbles his way back to bed. No, he wasn't all right, not really.

A quiet night at home, working towards my self-imposed seemingly impossible goals. I am determined to meet my ambitions. If you think about it, pray for my hubby. He’s a great guy. As for Gay Talese, I’m still assessing the man and the book. His world view is not my own and his education and experiences are so far from my own. I just pray that I will be able to glean some kind of a better understanding of just what it is that is expected of me as I write my creative non-fiction. I’m not a journalist. I’m not a college educated woman of the world. What I am, as I have stated before, is determined. But is sheer determination enough? So many successful writers that I admire are so smart! I’m not knocking myself, but I do see more and more clearly the stigma that I will have to rise above if I am ever going to achieve my writing ambitions, goals, and call. I'm much too old and tired to be a college freshman...

“Do the kids have a reason to be late?” Hubby just wanders my way again. “No dear. They’re here. They got home fifteen minutes early. They’re in bed. Should I have woke you up to let you know that they got home so you didn’t have to worry?”

“No.” As he finds his room once more, but not before looking into our youngest child’s room to see that she indeed was safely in her bed… Got to love him! And as I glance at the clock I see that I won’t complete that second chapter for the night of Mr. Talese’s book as I need to go to bed. Morning comes far too early, and this writer is only a writer in her borrowed time. Morning will find me scrubbing backs and cleaning toilets, like all good Christians should do… I will press on.

MY BABY

2006-07-04T17:42:00.000-07:00

This is Stacie. She's just turned 23, or should I say, she's almost 24? In October Stacie will be 24, but she's always going to be my baby. She's not my only child, nor is she my youngest child.

Well, I guess she was my youngest child once. When I was a lonely single mother of three Stacie was my youngest. I divorced her daddy when she was barely a year old. Her brother, Bryan, was only eight, and sister Jenny was only three, but that's another story all together.

Stacie is a sweetheart. As you can see by her photograph she is a lovely girl. This picture is of Stacie for her high school graduation. Stacie graduated from the Arizona State School For the Deaf and the Blind a few years ago. She did very well there. Stacie is hard of hearing. She is proficient in American Sign Language. She is sensitive and compassionate and very kind. Stacie has other problems to deal with other than her being hard of hearing, but they were overlooked by all of the professionals that said that Stacie's emotional dysfunctions were all deaf issues.

If I could tell a person one thing, I would tell them that they need to trust

their instincts when it comes to what you might feel is going on with your child's development. Stacie is emotionally challenged and although she is such a lovely person, she is more of a child than an adult. That's sweet and all well and good; that is unless that child is left to make choices and adult decisions. Stacie counts on others to do her thinking for her. She's not lazy and she's not insecure. She's just unable to use the judgment and other tools that we take for granted as we use them on a daily basis.

I wish that I could make things right for Stacie. She has most likely got a mental malady called, ASPERGER SYNDROME. It manifests as behavioral problems in the early teens and then escalates on into adulthood. From what I've experienced it is a cousin to Autism. Stacie is articulate, smart and funny. What Stacie is not, is able to take care of herself. She causes havoc with emotional outbreaks if she gets upset or confused and then is bewildered after the fact, not even understanding or comprehending that she is the cause of the chaos in the first place.

Social Security has denied her SSI claim. She needs the safety net as she not only doesn't know how to go and get a job on her own, but even once working the jobs that she can perform with her limited hearing she has a great chance of losing that job security if she gets upset...

I was reminded of the challenges that have been presented to me as I raised this special child and also the blessings of knowing her. I was reading a post by Jeanne Damoff http://www.jeannedamoff.com/main.htm and I was so fortunate to learn some things about her special child Jacob, that she has even written a book about. Here is a link to a preview of the prologue and the first two chapters of her book, Parting the Waters. The meaning of this post was just to remind someone, even if it's only myself, to love our children and be there for them, no matter what kind of a hand life deals them.

Chapter Nine, Life is for LIving

2006-06-26T22:52:00.000-07:00

This is my Grandma, Ethel Lake, as a young woman. I would have loved to have known her then. The picture below this post is of my Grandma and my Grandpa, as I knew them.

I've been proof-reading the sequel, and soon to be second half of Even in Silence. I like the new title, EVEN IN SILENCE, A PATH OF PEACE.

This is the chapter that my eyes carefully read over tonight. I decided that I'd like to put this chapter on my blog. I miss my Grandma. She and I were friends. My Grandpa and I were never too close, but with my Grandma's help I came to appreciate the love that she had for him.

A PATH OF PEACE
Chapter Nine
“Life is for Living”

Psalms 119:35 Make me to go in the path of thy commandments; for therein do I delight.

There is a sense of joy that overshadows a true believer’s life. That joy can even be apparent in the midst of sorrow. I learned of my Grandma’s death on a Saturday and I sang with the choir on the following Sunday morning. I didn’t want to give in to the despair that was threatening to wrap itself around my spirit.

I had the opportunity to return to the place of my childhood and go to my Grandma’s memorial. I had been praying that I would be allowed to see my Grandma just one more time and to be able to hug her neck. I didn’t get to see her alive, but when I passed by her casket as I paid my last respects, I leaned over and I hugged the neck that used to be my Grandma’s. Oh, sure, I knew that she wasn’t there, but I had been praying to hug her neck, and that was the last chance I had to do it.

Her funeral was a nice and formal occasion; that is until the preacher shared about how my Uncle Donnie fell out of the car and no one dared tell Grandma. They weren’t allowed to talk and make a racket while she was driving. My Grandma had a little bit of a mean streak in her at times. She had gone around a corner and the car door had flown open. Uncle Donnie had fallen out. (He hadn’t been injured in the mishap.)

So much for the solemn event! The whole room was in an uproar laughing. It was a nice memorial and it was especially sweet when my Uncle Donnie’s widow shared how she had led my Grandma in the prayer for salvation not too long before my Grandma’s passing.

I really had wanted to see my Grandma before she died. I had my plane ticket just waiting for the right time to be able to take off of work and to get away. At first I felt like I had been cheated, because she died before I had a chance to get there. But then I got to thinking about it and I realized that if I had my choice I would have chosen to have the chance to honor my Grandma’s life by attending her funeral, more so than to see her that one more time.

My Grandma and I had been friends. I had moved in with her and my Grandpa as a troubled teenager. They were good to me. I was bored a lot, but I also learned a lot and sometimes even had a good time. I would play cards with them and I would drop little tidbits out there to stir the air and then I’d sit back and watch the sparks fly! I’d get my Grandma going about my Grandpa having all of the right cards and stuff like that.

When I got back home for the memorial my folks were there and also a lot of my cousins. All of the ‘senior adults’ went to view my Grandma. The younger ‘adults’, an example that I have in mind, my cousin Cathy and I, went over to the funeral home by ourselves when the others returned.

Cathy and I stood quietly looking at our Grandma. I had lived in Kansas years later after I had grown up and moved away, and had visited my Grandma often until I had moved away again. Cathy was always near Grandma’s house. I was close to my Grandma, and so was Cathy. It wasn’t easy for either of us to see her lying there so still.

I think it was Cathy that started the conversation. “She sure was funny.”

“Yeah,” I said, “She sure was.”

We then got to sharing different stories about our different experiences and memories of Grandma. I don’t remember all of the stories, but I do remember one of them that I told Cathy.

We were off with Grandpa. Grandma told him to pull over, that she wanted to show me something. Well, Grandpa wasn’t that adventuresome, but he pulled on over. Grandma and I got out of the truck and she headed over to some wild bushes. She grabbed a fist full of some green plant and pulled it out of the ground. “This here is wild weed.” She told me plainly. I looked at it closely, and sure enough, it had those long pointed leaves that I knew well… I was quite amused.

Grandma took her little snag of wild weed and we got back in the truck. She threw the plucked plants up onto the dash. Well, it didn’t take long before the sun started to bake that marijuana. It really was some stink weed! Grandpa noticed that the weed was starting to smell and he got really cross and made us get that out of there!

As we both got to sharing we got to laughing. It really was a most natural thing for us. Both of us are born again believers and we knew that Grandma’s spirit had already gone on to be with Jesus. We were just enjoying each other’s company, and we were visiting with Grandma the last time that we would have that freedom and privilege.

Well, neither one of us was concerned that our actions might be inappropriate. We knew that if Grandma could she would be laughing right along with us. Anyway, we were the only ones in the parlor and we weren’t looking for approval. So, here we are, two grown women laughing so hard by this time that our sides hurt, and we are caught! Here comes this stoic, well dressed, funeral man. He’s absolutely appalled at our behavior! We can see it on his face as he puts his chin into his chest and walks briskly by, trying to pretend that none of us were there.

Well, that got us to laughing even harder! I so know that Grandma would have been amused right along with us. Why is it, I wonder, that people expect you to act as though you have no hope, when that is not the case at all. I know that to be absent from the body is to be present with the Lord. Grandma wasn’t lying there in that coffin ready to roll over, if you would, because two young women who loved her very much, and took the time during her lifetime to show it, were enjoying reminiscing about the good times that we had. Life is for the living, I say! In Ecclesiastes it states, “Eat, drink, and be merry, for tomorrow we die.” Who is to know when our own time on earth will be done? I’d like to go out with a smile on my face, with two of my grandchildren standing by my side, sharing fond memories of their Grammy!

I learned a lot from my Grandma. Two instances stand out the most to this day. One was something that happened when I was just a rebellious teenager, and the other was when I was pregnant with my third son. I’ll start with the incident as a young High School Senior.

My Grandparent’s insisted that I take the school bus home from school. They said that they paid taxes for me to ride that bus and that was what they wanted me to do. The real reason for their determination was the boyfriend factor. They thought that I was spending way too much time with him and they were trying to curtail that. The boyfriend later became that ex-husband that I so fondly refer to when I want to use him as an object lesson of this sort or that…

Anyway, it annoyed me greatly, but I rode that old bus. Then the boyfriend would meet me at my bus stop, so I’d show up with him after school after all. That bothered my Grandma, but I’d assure her that I had indeed ridden the bus from school. She was skeptical, but took my word for it.

Then one day they changed my bus. They gave me a different route number and so I rode on the new bus home. I got off of the bus and there was my boyfriend, waiting for me. I walked over to his car and by then the bus was out of sight. I had just gotten into the car when I saw my Grandma coming up the road with my aunt. That was all well and good, until the second bus for the day pulled up to my bus stop. Come to find out, several people had missed the new bus and they were forced to run both buses that day!

My Grandma saw my bus pull up, without me. She yelled at me to go home. I told her that I had ridden the bus home. She out and out called me a liar. Now, I really couldn’t blame her, at least not now. But then, well, then I was hurt. I got so angry! My Grandma was mad too. She sent my boyfriend away and I tried and tried to reason with her, to tell her that I hadn’t been lying.

My Great Aunt Bert had arrived at my house in the midst of the great blow out. She stepped out onto the porch and took the time to talk to me. She was married to my Grandma’s brother. She had a progressive form of skin cancer, and I learned a lot from her too, but mostly things about dying and cancer and things that I didn’t want to know. She listened to my story, and much to my relief, she believed me. She told me that everything was going to be okay.

I was finally able to convince my Grandma that what she had seen wasn’t what she had seen at all. Once she had calmed down she let me tell her what all had gone on. Then she did something that surprised me, and also endeared her to me forever. She was standing over the kitchen sink preparing dinner and she calmly asked me, “Can we still be friends?”

I’ll never forget that, not ever. I hugged her neck and she hugged me back and all was forgiven. I was wrong in getting so angry with her, and she was wrong for not listening to me; neither held onto that anger. Her offer of friendship was forever. We never did have it out again, not ever.

The next incident came along many years later. I was visiting my Grandparents and my Grandpa was reaching the end of his days. He was bedridden in a hospital bed that was right in the middle of the living room. My Grandma had taken to sleeping on the couch so that she could meet his needs day or night. His illness almost killed her; she was so worn out from being at his beck and call all hours.

It was about five in the morning and I was awakened from a sound sleep by my Grandpa demanding something to drink. I struggled to sit up from the bed that I was in, just off of the living room. I was about six months pregnant and more than a little moody. I listened as my Grandpa snapped at my Grandma that what she had gotten him to drink didn’t suit him. She was so tired, but she made no complaint. She just went and got him something else.

I heard my Grandma quietly crying as I approached her in the kitchen to see if she was all right. I went immediately to my Grandfather and I snapped, “Grandpa, why are you always so mean to Grandma?” Well, his eyes sure did get huge and I could tell that I had frightened him. I wasn’t going to hurt him, but the look in his eyes showed me how very vulnerable he was. I left him alone to think about his own bad behavior and went to my Grandma’s side to be of comfort to her.

I asked her why she put up with him, and why didn’t she just put him somewhere where someone else could take care of him. I’ll never forget the faraway look that came into her eyes. It was as if time had not only stood still, but had actually gone backwards, and there standing in her kitchen was no longer my Grandma as an old lady, but my Grandma as a young girl; a young girl in love.

How I saw that, I just don’t know. It had to have been the sheer grace of God. Anyway, she stood there for what seemed the longest time and then she came back in her mind to standing there looking at me, and she said, “He just don’t feel good.”

‘He just don’t feel good.’ I couldn’t believe it. She wasn’t mad at him and she didn’t even seem to resent his bad behavior. He was her husband, the love of her youth, and she stood there and loved him still… I had judged him to be such a beast, but it was I who was the beast! I had no compassion or concern for the man that my Grandma had devoted most all of her life to. My Grandma didn’t reprimand me for my harsh words to my Grandpa, or for my lack of compassion that I had shown, no; she just showed me a better way. Life is too short to be mean, or ugly, or abusive. It’s too short to refuse to forgive, and it’s too short to refuse to love.

AND THE GLORY

2006-06-26T21:19:00.000-07:00

I haven't been blogging for a while. I thought I might just drop a few thoughts as my mind is pretty clear from any of my characters, at least for now. I think it might be better if I had all those creative voices getting on me to get back to writing, but I'm content just being an adult for a little while.

This picture is the original for the book cover that my son Mychal and I made. I can't believe how gorgeous it is! I can still remember the place that I stopped in my daily travels and took this photograph.

I looked up at the sky and I was so excited! I had my camera with me and all I needed was a safe place to pull off of the road. The road that I was on was full of curves. I've seen the sky in magnificent beauty one moment and then have the clouds shift in the next. I prayed that the Lord would allow me to capture the beauty that I beheld, and He did.

OUT TO LUNCH with Daniel McClure #2

2006-06-19T10:40:00.000-07:00

AS "Daniel, thanks for coming."

DM "I wasn't sure that you would actually have me back."

AS "I said that I would."

DM "I hate to tell you this, but you've said a lot of things."

AS "Yes, you're right. And I've been thinking about what you've said about feeling like you're not an important work to me. That's really not true. But you are a different kind of work. My other novels are Christ-centered and issue based. Your function is different, but of no less importance. In fact, your book could actually prove to be of great importance."

DM "Oh, yeah? How's that?"

AS "Don't you see, Daniel? What I'm attempting to do with you and with Jessica and with Penelopy and the rest of you guys is to educate other writers on how to develop characters. It wasn't an accident that the sub-title to CHARACTER'S FOLLY is, An Experiment in Character Development."

DM "Well, if you intend to educate on character development then you need to rethink where you are with that book. That's why it's not working you know."

AS "No, I don't know. I've been stumped."

DM "That's because you have been way too busy painting us all into your own little corners and then wonder how to get us out without making a mess."

AS "I thought I was allowing you guys to kind of hold the reins on this one."

DM "Hardly! What you did was you got lazy. You didn't have a clue as to what direction 'you', notice I said, 'you', wanted us to go, and so you just poked us in whatever situation that happened to wander into your (forgive the slight slam) little pea brain."

AS "I was trying to at least get something onto the paper. I could have revised it later."

DM "That's not how it works. Once you are that far off track there is no revising, only a slow and painful death."

AS "Is it that bad?"

DM "Worse. It's not like we never existed. That, any given one of us could handle that. The problem is that we have been created, and we each and every one of us have hopes and aspirations and dreams. You can't just 'marry' Penelopy and I! We need to discover each other purely and honestly. And what about Suzie? She can't all of a sudden be a child of mine and Penelopy's! That's absurd! Suzie was created as Penelopy's little sister. You can't just toss us in the pot and if you don't like the way that the story is going decide that the potatoes are now turnips!"

AS "I thought that anything goes. It seemed like that was the rule of thumb."

DM "I can't believe that you are saying that. Anything goes? Absolutely not! You have to have order and you have to have reason and most of all, you have to have consistency. Consider us your children, if you would. Give us boundaries, for heaven's sake! Teach us through our experiences and not through half-baked ideas! You know how to work through scenes and how to weave plots. Give us that same consideration!"

AS "I wasn't following any kind of a storyline, Daniel. If you'll remember right, when you came up with this idea of Character's Folly I was almost asleep."

DM "That's a cop out. The only reason I surfaced that night was because I had been brewing in the back of your mind for years. You need to sit down and find a place of belonging for all of us forgotten characters. You owe us that much."

AS "But Daniel, I'm honestly stuck on what direction to go with you."

DM "If you'd be willing, we could help you. I've talked to the others and they are more than willing. And while I'm speaking about the others, what went on with you and Jessica? After her first interview with you she sure was shook up, but after the last one she seemed so calm, and even self-assured. I can see how much less difficult she is going to be to deal with."

AS "Jessica was a lot of help to me during our last interview. I was ready to give up, and she stepped up to the plate and made me look at the whole deal with a completely different perspective. I was discouraged, and she helped me to see that I needed to quit whining and to just move on. I guess what happened is that she was showing me how to develop my own character during this time of uncertainty and self-doubt, and in the process was strengthened in her own."

DM "That's great. It'll do you both good. But back to what I was saying, we could help you."

AS "And I'm willing to admit that I could sure use the help. What do you propose that we do? I'm listening."

DM "Well, we were thinking that an outline could really help out a lot. Maybe in each chapter you could focus on a certain aspect of character development."

AS "Daniel, I'm not so sure that I could do it. I've never done it before. I just write. I've never analyzed what I was doing."

DM "Well, it really wouldn't be all that foreign, Audrey. All you would have to do is to think through what you already know and are doing with your other novels."

AS "I'm still not certain. It's one thing to write a scene, but it's a totally different thing when you have to dissect the whole process."

DM "It's called work. W-O-R-K . You can do it, I know you can. I'm certain that you would then have a solid direction with which to actually develop us and you'd be accomplishing what you say you are attempting to do."

AS "I'm a little overwhelmed over here. Could you give me a couple of examples?"

DM "Alright, but I'm not telling you anything, at least in this instance, that you don't already know or haven't already done. As I think of it, that's one of your major roadblocks in taking our story any farther. In the beginning of Character's Folly you have gone through the actual process of creating us. That could be Chapter One: Creation. Then you need to let us develop as individuals. That could be Chapter Two, or Three, or where ever you end up after our initial introductions: Discovering personalities. That would divulge our sense of self-worth, our hopes and our dreams, and our underlying overall character. Not character as in persona, but character as far as integrity of spirit, or lack of integrity. You get my drift."

AS "Oh, and then maybe I could have a little bit of conflict and resolution?"

DM "Exactly. It's all about building and layering. Do you think you could do it?"

AS "I'm sure I can do it, it's just a matter of what direction I decide to go, and time is still an issue. I have other things that I have to be working on."

DM "Well, that would involve time managment and a sorting out of your priorities."

AS "Again with that WORK word..."

DM "Yes, and while we're at it. Have you looked at the top of your desk lately?"

AS "It is a bit of a mess, isn't it?"

DM "A bit? That's an understatement! You need to get organized. You have file cabinets. Use them. You have a waste basket, use it. You have two other novels to borrow ideas from. Use them. You have an imagination -

AS "Okay, okay already. I get it. I have an imagination. Now all I have to do is, use it!

OUT TO LUNCH with Jessica Tomkins #2

2006-06-18T16:08:00.000-07:00

AS "Jessica, you're pouting."

JT "I can't help it. How would you like to be rejected?"

AS "Oh, girl. Don't even tell me about rejection. I got four, count them, four rejection slips in my email box yesterday."

JT "Four rejection slips? What'd you do to deserve all that?"

AS "Oh, I don't know. I just decided to check out a web site that was looking for submissions and I submitted one thing, and I waited, and didn't hear nothing, and I didn't have anything else better to do so I submitted something else, and then, I don't know. I ended up, I submitted five articles. Oh, they weren't all articles. Two were poems, and two were Creative Non-Fiction, and one was just plain out life. I suppose it would be called Creative Non-Fiction also, but it was just plain life."

JT "Well, you said you got four rejections. What happened to the fifth?"

AS "I don't know. The way I see it they probably just haven't gotten that far down on their slash list. It said on the web site that it's being reviewed. You know, sometimes I just wanna quit."

JT "You can't quit."

AS "What do you know about it, Jessica? This has been going on a long, long time to be absolutely no where."

JT "What do you mean, no where? You can't say that you're no where."

AS "Yeah, kiddo, I can. That's exactly where I am."

JT "But you've got me, and you've got Daniel. You've got Penelopy, you've got David, and you've got Suzie."

AS "Yeah, I know. But it's just not enough. And I don't even know where to go with your story line. And I can't even pick up a pen for Destiny's Child. I feel like my whole life is an exercise in futility."

JT "You can't say that."

AS "I don't know what else to say, Jessica. What do I say to all of the years that I've invested? What'll I say? They tell you, 'do your homework'. Okay, so, my homework was to get an education. I have no education. I can't stand up against the pros. They beat me down in every direction. I'm worthless in their eyes. My literature is babble."

JT "For you being the one who has spent so many years encouraging people and telling them this and that I can't believe I'm listening to you say that. What do you think God would say about you saying that?"

AS "I don't know what to say. I need a new direction. I'm discouraged. I don't want to go forward. I can't even submit an article to a what, an online magazine? My writing isn't good enough for even that? What do I think? Do I think I'm going to have a hard cover, or what? And okay, so what if I go ahead and ignore all the discouraging things that I'm confronted with online? Okay, so let's just say I go away, and hide back in my little box, and I write my wonderful words. What then? If nobody reads them, then what good are they? Jessica, I never started out to write to Audrey. It wasn't my intention."

JT "Hey, I've got an idea."

AS "What's that, Jessie?"

JT "Well, didn't Christina write a book?"

AS "Well, (slight laugh), well, that's what I said, but you're giving away story lines."

JT "Well, okay, anyway, couldn't you take and give yourself Christina's agent?"

AS "Huh?"

JT "Sure, why not? Will you at least consider it?"

AS "That's pretty far out there, but you know what? That's not going to work."

JT "Why not? You didn't even give it a chance. You didn't even consider it. At least think about it."

AS "No, Jess, there's nothing to think about. If I don't know anything else, I do know one thing. I'm supposed to write what I know. And I don't know about the interactions with an editor, because I don't have an editor. I don't know about the interactions with a publisher, because I don't have a publisher. I don't even know about the interactions with an agent, because I don't have an agent. So what I'll have to do is just either determine that I'm gonna keep on writing, or hang up my pen, cause I can't be playing this volley ball game with my emotions, and my thoughts, and my sense of self worth and accomplishment, or lack thereof, or whatever all these dealings are bringing out in me, and maybe it's just part of the game. But I'm saying what? I'm saying this, I don't want to play anymore."

JT "Okay, so, nothing you've tried before has worked, why don't you do this, why don't you examine the positive side of it. Maybe there's different things that you have learned that we could talk about and maybe that'll help you to feel like you're not wasting your time."

AS "Well, Jessica, I appreciate the thought, but I just don't have my head screwed on straight. I was just picking myself up from the other deal and feeling like I'm okay and I can go on, and then I get slam-blasted with all these rejections and you know, I wouldn't even of terribly minded being rejected with piece-work; you know, one rejection trickling in and then another, and another, but all four in my mailbox at the same time? They may as well have just throwed them in a big old pot and said, 'okay, time to send the crap out'. Ping. But, let's don't use 'crap', it's not a nice word, and I already did that once. Alright, flush the slush. There you go. That's what it was, just flush the slush. Only thing was, the slush was me and all my work."

JT "Well, if you tried, do you think that you could come up with something positive about what's been going on?"

AS "Oh, I don't know. I can't think. Let me see. What have I learned? I've learned that 'thank you' notes are not a good idea. Don't send thank you notes following rejections, cause they are bound to say something stupid. Okay, we got that part. Okay, don't be overly prideful when you're sending out query letters. Don't trust that this person that acted so approachable is really anything but unapproachable, because that's the truth. I've heard out there in the publishing community that editors are looking for something to reject. Now to me that's just bass-ackwards. Now why wouldn't they be looking for something to accept? That makes a little bit more sense to me. Anyway, I'm tired."

JT "Aren't you about done fussing about all this?"

AS "I am."

JT "Well, then why don't you just stop?"

AS "Yeah, and do what?"

JT "How 'bout write?"

AS "Now, that's a novel idea."

OUT TO LUNCH with Reverend Perkins

2006-06-13T21:51:00.000-07:00

AS "Reverend Perkins, I didn't expect you here."

RP "Am I not welcome?"

AS "No, of course you're welcome. I just didn't expect you."

RP "Well, I know I've kept a pretty low profile, but I just wanted to stop by. You know, I'm behind you on what you're trying to do here."

AS "Well, thank you. That means an awful lot to me."

RP "Yeah, well, you just don't know. You changed my life."

AS "Well, that's just how it went."

RP "Well, it didn't have to go that way, and I know that. And I appreciate it. I've heard some of your interviews and I think you're doing just fine."

AS "Well thank you."

RP "I have a little bit to say, if you didn't mind."

AS "No, I don't mind. I hate to say this, but I really don't know you very well."

RP "No, and that's alright. I understand that, and frankly, I'm still getting to know myself. And I just want you to know that I appreciate you making me take a long, hard look at myself."

AS "Well, it was just the right thing to do."

RP "It was the right thing to do, and I commend you for it. And I thank you for the voice you gave me, because I certainly didn't deserve it."

AS "Well, none of us really deserve to have a voice, not really."

RP "Well, I 'specially didn't deserve it, and I 'specially appreciate it. Can I share something with you all?"

AS "Well, sure, I'd be glad to hear what you had to say."

RP "I just want to say that everybody ought to stop and take a look at themselves. They oughta stop and really take a long, hard look."

AS "You sound like you're still looking."

RP "I am. And I will continue to look. You know, I wouldn't mind if you maybe one day would check back on me. I - I'm not saying that I need to be in another book. I would just like you to at some point in time consider me."

AS "That wouldn't be a problem at all. Did you want to continue on with what you were saying as far as us taking a look at ourselves? I think you've got more that you'd like to share."

RP "Well, I do. This doesn't come easy to me, but I've learned that when I open up my mouth I need to be careful what comes out of it, because there's people looking at me. And one of these days I'm going to have to answer to God for all the years I spent opening my mouth when I had a closed heart. Now I know, I know, I know that I might be giving away storylines, but whatever, it seems to me that when I was introduced it was all on the table. There wasn't no wonderin' what was goin' on. As I recall, you introduced me behind the pulpit. And I have not forgotten what you allowed me to share. And for you to have given me all that insight and all those words, after all my years of dead, dry service to the Lord, I just wanted to thank you. And I want to tell people, you know, you've got to look around. Just look around. There just might be truth out there that you are not seeing. Or there could be a lie that you are living. You do not want to live your life a lie. And I know, I know, I know, I'm preachin'. I can't help it. I been a preacher since before I was saved, and that's all there is to it. I was a born preacher, and I'll die a preacher. I just want you to know, there's absolutes; absolutely absolutes. And you need to pay attention."

AS "Well, thank you, Reverend Perkins. That is enlightening. Are there any specific truths that you'd like to elaborate on, while you're sharing, I mean?"

RP "My dear, my dear. You are much too gracious. No, I've taken up enough time and space. I appreciate you allowing me the voice."

AS "Reverend Perkins, it's been my pleasure."

OUT TO LUNCH with Jessica Tomkins

2006-06-12T21:59:00.000-07:00

JT "Hey, I'd like to know what's going on."

AS "Jessica?"

JT "Surely, you're not surprised."

AS "Well, yes I was, a little bit. These interviews are supposed to be with characters from my trilogy."

JT "Yeah, well, you interviewed Daniel. And don't think that I didn't know that you had an interview with Suzie also. She's been running her mouth pretty big."

AS "Yeah, she never could keep a secret, could she?"

JT "Come on, come on! She didn't even exist!"

AS "Jessica, you need to relax. There's no reason for you to have animosity against that little girl."

JT "Yeah, but she wasn't even part of the story. I don't know where'd she even come from? I just don't get it. You had it all laid out. You had four sections to the book. You were gonna have me go from Kansas to New York. And then New York to Kansas, and I don't remember the other two parts of the book, I can't remember, and Lord knows, you don't know, but you had a direction here, and that's not happening."

AS "Jessica, I'm sure I don't need to tell you that I have no clue where the other book was going. There's nothing I can do about it. It's gone. You know that. We've already dealt with this with your character revolt."

JT "Well, I just want you to know that I am not happy. I am not happy."

AS "Okay, why are you not happy? I've heard this. You know, you've made yourself quite vocal amongst the other characters, and it's really not flattering."

JT "I can't help it! Read my lips! I am not happy! You had me in the middle of your story, right where I belonged, mind you, and I was content. I was happy! I was young! I was beautiful! I was slim."

AS "Jessica, I had no idea of how spoiled you were. Had I known how spoiled you were, I probably would have given you a lesser position in the first place. The last thing that I need in one of my books is for somebody to step up and be so unpleasant! You have been unpleasant."

JT "Well, it's not my intention on being unpleasant. And you started it. I was perfectly content being a main character. I think I've got a right. I didn't ask to be a main character, you made me a main character."

AS "I didn't take that away from you, Jessica. You are still a main character."

JT "Well, no, look at Penelopy. She's got all the say. You've given her a stronger voice, and you've given her a nicer personality, and you've given her Daniel! I can't believe, you've given her Daniel."

AS "Jessica, you're forgetting a few things."

JT "Oh, what?"

AS "She got Daniel in 'A Circle of Friends', she's always had Daniel."

JT "Wha! What ever! Only because I didn't want him. 'Cause I didn't wanna be with an old farm boy. I wanted to be in New York, and I wanted to be famous. You know I had that modeling career. I wore a pair of blue jeans pretty dog gone good back then. And yeah, Daniel says you can paint me young, but how you gonna paint me young when we're all so much older? And I don't care whose imagination you're looking at. Ain't none of us young, not no more."

AS "Now Jessica, that's all in your mind. You are just as young as I want you to be. But I'm going to tell you what, if you can't act right, then I don't even want to deal with you. And I'll tell you another thing. I don't have to deal with you. I could scratch you out, right now."

JT "You wouldn't."

AS "Why wouldn't I?"

JT "You can't."

AS "Why can't I?"

JT "'Cause you know."

AS "What do I know?"

JT "You know I was you."

AS "Well, you know what, Jessica? I grew up. That's all there is to it. I grew up. And maybe that's why Penelopy's voice is so much more prominent now. Because, Penelopy was always mature."

JT "Yeah, well, she's just a spoilt rich girl."

AS "Jessica, you're jealous. You are jealous. You're jealous of Penelopy in every aspect, and you need to lose that because it's not doing you any flattery whatsoever. It is painting you green, and green my dear is not lovely on a lady."

JT "What are you going to do with us? That's my main concern."

AS "I'm going to tell you what, Jessica, I'm going to tell you right now and clear, If you choose to be such an unpleasant character, you are in serious danger of not existing. Because, I don't need you. You need me."

JT "Well, that hurts. Why do you want to hurt me like that?"

AS "Jessica, I'm not trying to hurt you, but I'm not going to tolerate you either. If you want to be ugly then you're going to have to be ugly in somebody else's book."

JT "Someone else's book? What are you talking about? There is no other book! You created me!"

AS "That's right. I brought you into this world, and I can take you out."

JT "But that's just cliché."

AS "No, sweetheart, that's just how it is."

OUT TO LUNCH with Suzie

2006-06-12T20:42:00.000-07:00

SZ "Is this the place? They told me you was doing interviews."

AS "Suzie! What are you doing?"

SZ "I wanted to come and play. I haven't gotten to do anything. You left me over there at the park, you know. And that was really somethin' how that kid was afraid of the water. That scared me too. You know, if somebody is going to be afraid of the water, maybe it could be at another part of the book, 'cause I didn't like that part. We were having a great time at the park."

AS "Is that what was going on?"

SZ "Oh, okay, I don't know. I think. I can't remember either. I haven't really had a chance to do anything. I liked that part where you started though."

AS "Oh, do you mean that scene that I had to write over and over again?"

SZ "Yeah, I enjoyed that. I got to get up on that chair, with that beautiful dress flowing down. Every time you wrote it, it was like it was brand new to me, and I loved it, and I'm glad it got to stay in the final draft. It does get to stay, doesn't it?"

AS "Oh, Suzie, I wouldn't take that away from you. It was the best thing I've ever written."

SZ "You know, the other characters are getting a little frustrated with you."

AS "Ah, don't I know it! Daniel was here."

SZ "Yeah, I know. That's how I knew how to get here. He was talking about it, but he wasn't talking to me. He don't talk to me like that, 'cause I'm just a little kid. He was talking to Penelopy. I'm glad that you let him and Penelopy be together. And I like what you've decided to do with us all. But I won't tell, 'cause I know how that goes. But I sure do wish that you'd get back to writin' us."

AS "Yeah, sweetie, I do too, but I've been so busy."

SZ "Yeah, busy, I've been watching you. You act like a little kid in your mind. I've been watching you, you're all over the place."

AS "Now, how do you know? You're too young to have any clue as to where I'm at."

SZ "No I'm not. I'm not too young to see when somebody's all scatter-brained. Trust me, I know scatter-brained, I've seen it. I do scatter-brained real well."

AS "Suzie, you're too much. You got more imagination on you than anything I ever seen."

SZ "Well, that's 'cause you let me create me."

AS "No, it wasn't quite like that sugar. Penelopy created you."

SZ "Only 'cause I begged her to ask! Honest! I was there! It was great! She imagined me, and there I was! It was great! I was there, 'cause I wanted to be, and it was wonderful! And life is wonderful, 'cause I enjoyed it so much! And when I get to say anything, I'm happy, 'cause I got so many things to say."

AS "Like what, Suzie? I'm stuck. I have no idea what I'm supposed to be doing with you, or with any of you guys. I told Daniel that I needed to just call it a short story and call it quits, but he had a fit at me."

SZ "Oh, you can't do that, you can't do that. Please don't do that. I want to see, I want to see us go on. We haven't gotten to do anything yet. Oh, and you know what? You know what? You know what? I got an idea."

AS "Suzie, you are an idea. You're an endless idea. What, do you want?"

SZ "I want a baby brother."

AS "What?"

SZ "A baby brother. Can't I just like imagine him to be, you know, just like me, just like David? You know, you let me name David. That was awesome. Thank you. I liked naming David. He liked it too. David's cute, but he's too old for me."

AS "Well, I guess to say, Suzie, he's a grown man."

SZ "Well, I don't care. He's cute."

AS "Yeah, you silly girl. We can't be creating characters right here, 'cause, they'll get lost. We don't need characters to get lost. Can you hold onto that thought, and I'll go ahead and... we won't tell nobody else though. That'll be our own little secret."

SZ "Yeah? We can have a secret! Wow! Hey, hey, can our secret have a name?"

AS "Suzie, I told you. We can't be getting busy like that."

SZ "Oh, come on, come, on. Please? Please? Name him."

AS "Oh, Suzie, what are we going to do? Then he'll need a diaper! Then what are we going to do? Who's going to take care of the baby? You're just a baby yourself."

SZ "No, I'm not. I'm five."

AS "Well, five isn't exactly an adult, sweetheart."

SZ "So, that's okay. I don't want to be an adult. I like being a little girl."

AS "Yeah, you make a good little girl, Suzie."

OUT TO LUNCH with Marissa White

2006-06-12T20:00:00.000-07:00

AS "Marissa, Benjamin told me that you would come."

MW "Sure, I'm here, but I don't know exactly why."

AS "Well, I'm interviewing my characters and I just wanted to see if we, uh, could have some input from you. I do deem you to be a rather important character."

MW "A rather important character? How could that be?"

AS "But Marissa, you are. There's a lot of storylines that are central to your character."

MW "Well I don't see it like that. I don't feel like I'm very important."

AS "Have I created you with a low self image?"

MW "No, you're not understanding. I just don't feel like I'm that important. I know that I've got a place in your book, and I know that you portrayed me more than fairly, and to be honest, I'm comfortable just being in the background. I don't like a lot of attention."

AS "I know that, Marissa, and I'm not trying to put you out by having you here."

MW "No, no, no, that's not it, that's not it. I just like to have a low profile. I like to be quiet. It's who I am. It's me."

AS "Well, I can appreciate that in you and we can keep our interview short and low-keyed. I had quite the time with your husband. I'm telling you, that man is great."

MW "He is great. He's a good husband, he's a good man, he's a good father. But you know what he is the best at?"

AS "What's that?"

MW "He's the best at being an example. I have learned so much from him. You know, my family is not real out-going, so to speak."

AS "I know that Marissa, and I, I tried to keep things within your comfort zone. Do you think that I portrayed you in a manner that you're okay with?"

MW "Sure, you did alright by me. I've got no complaints. I just don't want to be in the lime-light. I don't need to be in the lime-light. I've got my family, I've got my faith, and I've got my Ben. I don't need anything else. I don't need anyone to notice me. I don't want anybody to notice me."

AS "I can keep this interview pretty simple for you, Marissa. I just wanted to touch base with you 'cause I've been terribly distracted."

MW "Yeah, I've seen that in you, Audrey, and to tell you the truth, you'd be a whole lot happier if you would pay attention to my character just a little bit more. And I'm not saying that I've got it all goin' on, that's not what I'm sayin' at all. What I am saying is that you could learn to be content through me, because I am mellow and meek. And I'm not trying to portray myself as overly humble, or overly wise, or overly anything, but I'll tell you what I am. I am calm and I am complete, because I'm not demanding anything from anybody that I'm not willing to give. And I'm not looking for recognition and I'm not looking for reward or approval. I'm not looking for anything great or wonderful. What I'm doing, is I'm enjoying my life."

AS "You know, Marissa, you've got some really good points, and I do hear what you're saying. And I don't know if I'll ever be as meek-spirited as you are, I don't know if I'll ever be calm, quiet, like you are, but one thing I know that I will be, and that is striving to be content 'cause I've seen it work for you. I've seen how peace goes before you, and behind you. I'm glad to know you, and I'm grateful for the insights that I have been shown as I've worked to develop your character fairly and accurately, and you have taught me so much. I've watched you stretch yourself, and I've watched you completely out of your comfort zone because you needed to meet a need. And the way that you look upon humanity has made me stop and ask myself why. Before I ever even consider judging a situation I can accredit it to you for being the reason that I look at another man the way that I do, or a fellow human being the way I do, because you're not quick to judgment, and your compassion is commendable."

MW "It's just how I was brought up. I might be from the South, and I might be a little slow, and a little quiet, but I know what it is to care."

AS "Yes, Marissa, it's true. You do care."

OUT TO LUNCH with Benjamin White

2006-06-12T18:38:00.000-07:00

BW "Alright, where's he at? Let me at 'em."

AS "Ben, how are you? Silly man. There's nobody to protect me from."

BW "You just let me know. I'm telling you what. Ain't gonna let nobody push you 'round."

AS "I appreciate that, Benjamin. What wound you up?"

BW "What do you mean, 'what wound me up'? You know exactly what wound me up. I've been watching your interviews. I've watched you crawl back up from feeling like nothing, and I don't like it."

AS "Oh, Ben, it wasn't nobody's fault, but my own."

BW "I don't care if it was your fault. I don't know if you know this yet girl, but I'm on your side. You done alright by me and I'm right behind you, and I want you to know. I'll back you."

AS "Ah, you're bad. You're supposed to be mellow, Benjamin, mellow."

BW "Yeah, I know, but sometimes I just plain get riled. You know how I feel about things when they're not balanced. I hate injustice with a passion, and you know it. There's no reason for anybody to treat you like anything except for a proper young woman."

AS "Benjamin, you're bias."

BW "Alright, so well, maybe I am. But I'll tell you what, if you hadn't stopped and took a good long look at me you wouldn't even know me, and you do know me."

AS "Yes, Ben, I know you well. You're great. I needed someone like you to come along and be a champion for me. 'Cept for I haven't really been wronged by anyone, except for myself."

BW "I already said, I don't care. Ain't no one gonna give you no grief; not with me standing here. 'Cause I'm not gonna take it."

AS "Alright, alright, I feel well-defended. Now, can we have an interview here today?"

BW "Watch, think. What'da'ya think we're doing?"

AS "I don't know. It sounds to me like you're about ready to pick a fight."

BW "Well, not with you."

AS "I know that. You don't need to be fighting. I'm a big girl."

BW "Yeah, well, someone'd have to come through me to get to you. I'm just not gonna put up with it. You been way too good to me, and I'm just not gonna hear it."

AS "Okay, okay, okay, I'm good. I'm good. I just, I wanted to ask you, uh, a few questions, but maybe I ought to just let you tell me what you got on your mind. I think you might be more interesting than anything I might come up with."

BW "You think so, do ya? Well, you know what sits up most on my mind."

AS "Yeah, I do, Ben, and I don't blame ya. There's a travesty of justice in it though."

BW "Why?"

AS "'Cause I don't think you should have to think about your relations with people and the situations that you get put in and I don't think that you should have to be concerned about if the 'black' card is going to be played or if the situation is going to pan out like it ought to. I don't think you should have to concern yourself about it."

BW "Well, girl, I'll tell you what, that's just how it is. And don't you worry none about me because I know how to take care of myself. And I know how to keep my mouth in check, and I know I get mad, but sometimes I got a right to get mad. And when I do, that's just what I do. I ain't out there beatin' nobody up or nothin', but by goodness I'm not gonna be nobody's carpet either."

AS "No. I know you're not, and I appreciate that in you."

BW "Well, you know that in me. You didn't come about our relationship accidentally, and I noticed. I wondered what you was gonna do with us when we showed up in your little town. And I saw the shocked look on your face. I told Marissa, 'well, let's just watch, and see what she does. Cause I want to know how she's gonna write us, and if she's gonna write us straight, or if she's gonna fake it, or if she's gonna take the time to figure out what's going on.' And I have to commend you, young lady. You didn't assume anything."

AS "Well, I didn't have a choice. I had to go figure out at least something about your culture. I knew nothing, absolutely nothing. But Katrina, she wasn't a problem. By time she came along I was pretty comfortable in your skin, if you don't mind me puttin' it that way."

BW "Why would I mind? You walked fair in my skin. I'm good with you. I got no problem with you. You looked at me straight, and you took the time to care. I can't fault that, and I refuse to. If you need me to stick up for you I will. You don't need to take no grief from nobody. I'll let them know, you've got a friend in me."

AS "I got a good friend in you. Marissa sure has come a long way, hasn't she?"

BW "She has. She makes me proud. And I just want to thank you for the opportunities you have presented to her, so that she could."

AS "I don't pretend to know everything about you and your culture and your race."

BW "No, and I know you don't. But you never said that you did either. What you did was you found a nice big steak and you chewed on it; right on down to the bone, and nobody can fault you for that. And let me know if they do, 'cause I'll tell you what, I'm behind you."

AS "I know you are Ben. You done told me that, and I appreciate it. Maybe we'll chat again."

BW "Anytime, Audrey, anytime."

OUT TO LUNCH with Ana Marianna #2

2006-06-12T00:05:00.000-07:00

AS "My friend. Glad to have you back."

AM "I'm glad to be back, and by the looks of things, you're back too."

AS "I am back. Thank you."

AM "Aw, it wasn't me. I didn't quite get you up on your feet. It was Jeremiah that did you some real good."

AS "Yeah he did. I've been considering what he told me."

AM "That's a good thing. You need to consider it when you've been instructed and guided."

AS "Don't I know it! I sure do get off on my own little tangents, don't I?"

AM "Well, I hate to tell you this, but you're an awful lot like Christina."

AS "Yeah, I know I am. I know. But sometimes I'm like you too."

AM "Yes, you are, on a good day."

AS "You know, if I ever could do anything with my books, Ana, you know what it'd be?"

AM "What's that, sweetie?"

AS "It would be to relate to people how precious it is to have a relationship with somebody as old and as kind as you are."

AM "That's sweet of you, darlin'. A lot of people are just too busy, that's all. And I can't blame them for being busy."

AS "But they're missing out on so much."

AM "You've just been fortunate."

AS "I am fortunate. I've learned an awful lot from you."

AM "But Audrey, you haven't learned any more from me than what you already had deep inside of you."

AS "Oh, yeah, I'd like to think that. But I'd be lost without you."

AM "Were we going to be on task today, dear?"

AS "Well, that was my intention."

AM "Well, then, we need to get back with the program, don't you think?"

AS "Sure."

AM "Is there anything specific that you wanted to ask me?"

AS "Oh, there you go, there you go. Why don't you conduct this interview? You've got it going on a lot better than I do."

AM "No, that's not my responsibility."

AS "Yeah, yeah. I never know what you have in mind. You've pulled some pretty wild things on me."

AM "Oh, yeah. You're a pretty smart cookie. You just didn't know what you knew."

AS "Anyway, I don't think we're getting anywhere."

AM "I think you're right. I don't think we're getting anywhere either."

AS "Let me see, I don't know what to ask ya."

AM "Oh, I don't know. Why don't you ask me how it feels to spend so many years alone?"

AS "That's a great question. Okay. So, how does it feel spending so many years alone?"

AM "Child, you amuse me, tremendously."

AS "So? Are you going to answer my question?"

AM "Of course I'll answer your question. Sometimes I was lonely, and sometimes I was angry, but it took me a long time to realize that part, but you know that. You discovered that with me, didn't you?"

AS "Yeah, Ana, I did. We walked through that one together."

AM "It was a nice walk, kid."

AS "Oh, thanks. I enjoyed every step of the way."

AM "Anyway, now you're off task again. Will you get back to the question?"

AS "No, I don't have to get back to the question. You were answering the question."

AM "Oh, that I was, that I was. My apologies. Yes, to be alone. Sometimes it was lonely. And like I said, sometimes I had to deal with anger. But you know, mostly it was a peaceful time for me. But I wasn't alone, and you've got to remember that. I was not alone. Had I been alone I don't think that I would have been able to bear the sorrow."

AS "When you say you weren't alone, I know what you're talking about, but could you tell our readers what you mean?"

AM "Of course dear. I'm talking about the presence of God. I spent many, many years just pressing into the heart of God. I wouldn't trade it for anything."

AS "That's what Jeremiah was telling me that I needed to do, that I needed to really focus on my relationship with the Lord."

AM "Well you know girl, he's got a real good point there. You're not going to find any kind of peace or satisfaction in your life short from what you can experience from nestling into the heart of the Father and I would have to just second that motion."

AS "I've been trying. I've been scootin' in a little closer day by day."

AM "That's all you can do, you just keep on getting your heart closer and closer to God and you're going to find that He's going to be like a magnet. He's going to draw you unto Himself. And as He does, then you'll be able to do the work that He's set before you."

AS "You know Ana, I'd never make it without your friendship, you advice, your wisdom. I just want you to know that I appreciate you and all you've done for me."

AM "Just be true, Audrey. Be true to yourself. Be true to your characters. Be true to your God. I look forward to seeing what God has in store for you."

AS "Thank you, Ana. Me too."

OUT TO LUNCH with Katrina

2006-06-11T22:33:00.000-07:00

AS "Katrina, I'm glad you could come."

KT "Glad to be here."

AS "I've been calling out my different characters and having interviews with them, and I've gotten a little off task, and I thought beings I was off task I could kind of continue in that mode."

KT "Yeah? How's that?"

AS "Well, I didn't exactly want to talk about the books today. I've not got my mind on straight; straighter, but not quite straight yet. You don't mind if we talk about something else, do ya?"

KT "Of course I wouldn't mind. You've been a lot of help to me, and I'll be happy to discuss just about anything. I couldn't imagine anything that I wouldn't discuss with you."

AS "Great, I'm glad to hear that, but you might change your mind."

KT "You know me better than that. I'm good. What's on your mind?"

AS "Well, I know this is totally off subject, but Lenny got me to thinking about how I really haven't tapped into my characters as far as their life situations and I know that you had a lot of things in your life that you've put up with, but I don't know your mind-set or how you were able to overcome your adversities even enough to make it into my little town. Would you mind too terribly much to - I hate to ask this - "

KT "No, I can see where you're going. You want to know about the ex - don't you?"

AS "Well, that was what I was wondering about. I thought we could use a little bit of the history as I touch upon an update on you in this third book. I don't plan on writing a fourth book in this series and I just don't like to leave you without fairly bringing closure to your character. Does that sound alright to you?"

KT "I'm game, you know that. I'm alright with whatever you do. I already told you that."

AS "You did. I'm sorry. I've been distracted. I can't hardly chain two thoughts together at the moment. I almost feel like I did way back when. I've just had a lot on my mind and I haven't been able to focus very well. Anyway, basically what I'm wondering is was there any real tell-tell signs that you saw with this abusive man, I guess I should say abusive man, cause someone who is reading this interview may not have a clue as to what I'm talking about. Anyway, did you have any indication that there may be trouble in paradise?"

KT "Well, you know. There were things that I should have known, or noticed, but to be honest with you, I was blind-sided. I was pretty much caught off guard. I wasn't looking for trouble though. We were young, and he was handsome and it was a nice situation, I thought. I was pretty much just doing what I wanted to do. He didn't really get ugly until I got pregnant and then everything changed. Then he got really ugly. My grandma told me not to go with him, but I didn't listen. You had asked me how I got out of the situation to actually make it into your little town. All I can tell you is that I had nothing, and I had no one, and I ran. That's all. I had no great heroic story to relay. I ran, and that's how I got away."

AS "That's a tough deal."

KT "Yeah, it was. But you know, I've got no one to blame."

AS "Having that behind you, does it leave you angry, or bitter?"

KT "No, just wiser. And sometimes it feels like a wisdom that I'd just as well not own, but it's mine."

AS "Is there any kind of advice that you could maybe have for somebody that's young and up and coming?''

KT "Yeah, I could tell them some advice. I don't think you want me to get into that, but I could tell them all kinds of advice."

AS "Well, if you could keep it simple, what would you say was the most valuable advice that you could tell them without gettin' preachy, or without getting overly 'motherly'?"

KT "You know what I'd tell them? I'd tell them to listen to the people around them that care about them, and if they happen to be getting the same message from different directions, then let that be a red flag, because there's probably truth in what they are telling you. Regardless of how it feels, or how much you don't want to give up what you think you want, there's probably truth there that's going to be of a life-long value."

AS "Well stated, Katrina!"

KT "Thank you."

AS "And I appreciate you letting me use you as a sounding board to help me to get my mind back on task. I might bring you back when we could maybe get a chance to actually talk about the books, but that's to be seen. I like to do these interviews as spontaneous as I can. That's why I'm trying to free my mind and get it functioning again. I don't know if you've been tracking with what I've said on my other interviews, but I was really making a muck out of my writing career and my character's are all I've got."

KT "Well, I can sympathize with that. I understand making a muck out of things, and I just appreciate that you have never judged me. I appreciate that a lot."

AS "I got no room to judge anybody, Katrina. Thanks for your time, and we'll talk again soon."

OUT TO LUNCH with Jeremiah Jordan

2006-06-09T00:24:00.000-07:00

AS “Jeremiah, I’m glad you could come.”

JJ “I’m glad you called.”

JJ “How are you? I mean really.”

AS “I’m alright, but I’ve been kicking myself quite a bit and I can’t get my mind sorted out.”

JJ “You know, you got nothin’ to apologize for.”

AS “Yeah, did you see all of the dumb things I wrote?”

JJ “Yeah, I saw. I’m not really concerned about it. I mean, you could have done things differently, but a lot of times that’s how we learn.”

AS “Yeah, but I’m afraid I’ve closed doors that I shouldn’t have.”

JJ “Well, I don’t see it that way.”

AS “No? How come?”

JJ “Well, because it says in my Bible that a great door effectual is open unto you, but there are many adversaries. You’re looking for a door that’s already open.”

AS “You think so?”

JJ “It’s a fact. You know I only stand on absolutes. Another thing, while we’re talking, you need to just put your shoulder to the plough and just keep going.”

AS “I know, but I get so distracted.”

JJ “Yeah, well, you know what, God is not the author of confusion. And if you’re feeling confusion you need to just step back and take a look at what’s gone on, and what’s going on, take a breath, and move on.”

AS “You make it sound so simple.”

JJ “It is simple. It’s principles. You gotta stand on principles. You been working hard bringing forth a good word. It’s an important work, and you need to press on. And you need to finish that book.”

AS “Well, I’ve been working. You know I wrote those two memoirs. And I got that book of poems out there too, at least semi-out there. I kinda wish now that I hadn’t entered that work and that poem into that contest, but there’s nothing I can do about it now except for wait, or go ahead and get it out there and I’m not seeing any wisdom in that.”

JJ “No, there is no wisdom in that. If you didn’t think that you had at least a remote possibility of winning those categories you wouldn’t have entered the contest in the first place. Just leave that alone. Finish editing your books. You have a good plan there as far as putting them both together. So follow through with that. Your book of poems is beautiful. And you need to sit down and seriously start working on Destiny’s Child.”

AS “But what about the publishing aspect?”

JJ “That you need to pray about. Just walk away for now. You can stay in a couple of communities that you’ve found, but you’d do well to be a silent witness. There’ll be a time to speak and just ask the Lord to direct you. Sometimes you get to feeling like you’re all alone, and you’re not all alone. Not unless you choose to be all alone. You didn’t write those books in a vacuum, you didn’t write those books out of your own inspiration and intellect. You wrote those books out of your experiences and knowledge and your relationship with the Lord. You can’t begin a work in the spirit and expect to complete it in the flesh. You’ve got to get back to basics, get in the Word, stay in prayer, and you’ll do fine. God has blessed you with excellent words. How many times have I heard you say that?”

AS “Well, I always believed it. That is until I started walking around on my computer and visiting professional writers and editors and agents and publishers. That’s when I started doubting.”

JJ “Well, you know, all I can tell you about it is that you’ve got to believe that He who has began a good work in you shall complete it until the day of salvation. Did you not stand on that with your memoirs? And then I have to say that I don’t know what will ever become of those. I know that they weren’t anything that you wrote with any great longevity of time invested, per se, besides for the fact that you wrote out of your more than twenty years of experience of living upright and honorable before the Lord, but what you need to do is you need to get plugged back in to your source of everything. You work on your relationship with the Lord, and let the Lord work on your relationships with the publishing industry. You just trust Him and He’s going to make it all right.”

AS “Thank you Jeremiah. Can I have you back again and then maybe we can really discuss our books next time?”

JJ “It’d be my pleasure. You take care, and just don’t give up. You’ll be alright.”

AS “I will be alright. Thank you.”

OUT TO LUNCH with Christina Bodene #2

2006-06-08T23:22:00.000-07:00

CB “Okay, I’ve handled it.”

AS “What’d you do?”

CB “I sent out an ‘Agent Alert’.”

AS “What?”

CB “I said I sent out an 'Agent Alert'.”

AS “Like?”

CB “Simple. You made the biggest mess that you could think of, and I fixed it.”

AS “No, no, not really. You didn’t fix it.”

CB “I mass-mailed a personal query to every agent on the planet that I could get a fixed address on, and I just sent them a bulletin. I kept it real simple. Stupid Author needs Agent. Audrey Semprun 555-pls-call!”

AS “A hard copy?”

CB “No, that would be too much work. I emailed em.”

AS “No, not really!”

CB “Well, what’s the difference whether I do it or you do it?”

AS “Well, I’ve always tried to use some sense.”

CB “Uh, yeah, that’s not what I’ve seen going on.”

AS “Anyway, I’m pretty tired with all of this. Can we just move on?”

CB “Sure, why not. I think I’ve pretty well rectified the situation. Now it’s pretty certain there’s nobody going to look at your work. Because now you’ve got your name out there just like you wanted.”

AS “Ah, great. Thanks. Now what are we going to do?”

CB “I don’t know. Go back to writing. You do that a whole lot better than contacting people that don’t want to know ya anyway.”

AS “Well, don’t you sound discouraged?”

CB “Well, I come by it honestly. And I’m tired of being discouraged.”

AS “I am too. Is someone keeping track here? I don’t remember who’s talking.”

CB “Does it really matter who’s talking?”

AS “Naw, I guess it really don’t.”

AS “So, what do you think I should do?”

CB “With?”

AS “Well, I left those kids in California. I’ve wrapped up the catalyst of the whole story, and I liked how that came out, if I can ever find out where I put it…”

CB “What do you mean if you can ever find where you put it?”

AS “Well, I don’t know. I’ve got some of it written down, and some of it on my cassette tape.”

CB “You’re trusting those cassette tapes again?”

AS “Well, I don’t want to, but yeah. I think I’ve got it written down.”

CB “You don’t know?”

AS “No, I’m so out of touch with that book.”

CB “Well, maybe if you focus on your book then you can get your mind off of this other crap. You ain’t done so hot with that.”

AS “Don’t I know that’s the truth. It’s not like I try to just get out there and be an idiot. I know better, at least better than to be an idiot. I’ve seen amateurs out there groveling and begging and it’s not what I ever intended on doing.”

CB “No, now, don’ t be too hard on yourself. You weren’t groveling and begging. You were just high-minded and stupid. There’s a big difference you know.”

AS “Big difference, how? I got the same results.”

CB “Well, yeah, you had to work that one. You done pretty good.”

AS “Yeah, I know. Don’t think I wasn’t there. I was online last night, checking out the world wide web, and oh, what a tangled web we weave.”

CB “No, no, no, you got that wrong. When first you fashion to deceive… or something like that. You weren’t trying to deceive anyone. You were just a little brain-dead and stupid. You get the gist anyway. I already used that word, didn’t I? I won’t use that one. You get the drift.”

AS “So, where do I go from here?”

CB “Well, just wrap up your characters. Just move on. You’ve got a couple of more books you want to write. Just write the silly things.”

AS “Yeah, but if I don’t do something about marketing em, then I’m never going to get em published.”

CB “There you go. That’s your problem.”

AS “What’s that?”

CB “You’re trying to do it yourself. What you need to do is let go and let God. You’ve made a couple of friends in the industry, well, at least one friend, and just, be a friend.”

AS “Just be a friend?”

CB “A writer friend. Pick up your pen and get back to basics.”

AS “You know, I’ve enjoyed our talks.”

CB “I have too. It’s been kinda nice to stretch myself and to actually have a say. I won’t be visiting you again in another book will I?”

AS “Naw, we done hashed it all out.”

CB “You can let me pop in though in your current work in progress. After all, it is the end of my story.”

AS “I’ll tell you what. When I get to the End of Destiny’s Child, I’ll make sure you’re there.”

CB “Thanks. I’ll enjoy that. It’s a great last line.”

AS “You think?”

CB “I know.”

AS “Hey, you know what?”

CB “What’s that?”

AS “I’m a space cadet.”

CB “Yeah, I believe that.”

AS “No, really. I’m a space cadet.”

CB “What?”

AS “I’ll be seeing you again.”

CB “Oh, yeah, huh.”

AS “Duh! Alright, I’ll see you in Shadow World, but you know what? I’ll have to finish Destiny’s Child and then I’ve got to write Character’s Folly or Diana’s gonna shoot me, and then I’m all yours.”

CB “All right. Well, I’m looking forward to it, and I’ll be thinking about what we can say.”

AS “Alright, good. You do that. I’ve got the first line. You remember that don’t you?”

CB “How can I forget? ‘Well, you know doll-baby, you can’t un-flush a toilet.’”

OUT TO LUNCH with Christina Bodene

2006-06-06T21:35:00.000-07:00

AS "I'm road-weary."

CB "You think?"

AS "I know."

CB "You got cause."

AS "Huh? How's that?"

CB "You do it to yourself. It's not really your fault. It's just how you are."

AS "Oh, yeah. Tell them that."

CB "I don't have to tell them that. You tell them that."

AS "Come again?"

CB "You tell them that."

AS "How so?"

CB "You don't need me to tell you how you bring about your own aggrivation."

AS "Yeah, maybe I do."

CB "Well, you got time?"

AS "I think so. We're in cyber-space. I got all the time in the world."

CB "Alright, well, are you ready to hear what I've got to say?"

AS "Sssure. I let people hear what I've got to say, don't I?"

CB "Well you know girlfriend, you take shooting yourself in the foot one step farther. You don't shoot yourself in the foot, you shoot yourself in the head."

AS "That bad?"

CB "Does Jonestown ring a bell?"

AS "Well why do you think I do it?"

CB "I don't think, I know."

AS "Well, I'm glad you do. How do you know?"

CB "Because it's me. Everything about me."

AS "How's it everything about you?"

CB "Just look at the mess you make. Is that not classic, 'Christina'?"

AS "Well, yeah. But yours is different. You're always messing up your life."

CB "Oh, and you're not? What do you call it?"

AS "It hasn't been my intention to mess up my life."

CB "Running around saying stupid things to publishers and editors is kind of messing up your life if you're a writer. Get my drift?"

AS "Well, they just don't understand me."

CB "No, and they're not going to either, the way that you present yourself."

AS "I'm not sure what you're talking about."

CB "Yeah you are. You know exactly what I'm talking about. Can I show you examples?"

AS "Oh, please, not really."

CB "Yeah, really."

AS "I'm pretty sure I know what you're talking about."

CB "Pretty sure?"

AS "Alright, okay. Yeah, I'm sure. I know what you're talking about."

CB "Yeah, but I gotta spell it out for you. Cause you gotta stop this."

AS "Wwhere do you think you got to start?"

CB "Well, that depends on you. What do you think you're ready to hear?"

AS "Uh -- I don't know if I'm ready to hear anything."

CB "Well you need to be."

AS "I know. Why do you think I'm here? You choose."

CB "All right. Well, we may as well start with the most recent, and then we'll head back to the worst, and I think that'd be about as much as you'd care to hash through. Shall I quote you verbatim?"

AS "Please. Just the gist of it will be plenty, I'm sure."

CB "Alright, lets start with, 'there's no door going to open on God's green earth...' "

AS "Oh, yeah, that one."

CB "Well, yeah, and if that one wasn't bad enough, how 'bout your little tag of, 'It's going to take an act of Divine Intervention', and how about your summary of, what was that? You serve a good God, and also a very powerful God? What kind of deal was that?"

AS "I do serve a good God, and He is powerful."

CB "Alright, so? Does that mean that you've got to tell an acquisitions editor?"

AS "Yeah, that was kind of dumb, wasn't it?"

CB "It was beyond dumb."

AS "Yeah, but you know what I wanted to write before. You know I slept on it at least this time."

CB "Yeah. Good thing. Why'd you write that?"

AS "Well, it'ss just how I feel."

CB "Yeah, so? Even if it's how you feel, why would you write that?"

AS "Well I don't write things like that to be an idiot. It's just I write things for a release, to let them go."

CB "Yeah, well, you need to release in the shower, Audrey. You can't be just speaking everything that you think. You cross lines. And I'm not talking about lines of propriety, I'm talking about lines of sanity. You can't be speaking everything you think."

AS "Well, it's just the way that God gives me to let things out of my mind. They haunt me, you know that."

CB "Yeah, I know that. But that's not good enough. You got to be willing to be rejected, you've got to be willing to let things go. You don't have to have the last say."

AS "Is that what I'm doing?"

CB "That's exactly what you're doing."

AS "That's not good."

CB "No, it's not good, but you can't keep kicking yourself about it. You got to know that they just write you off, and walk away. That's what you've got to do about the situation, but you've got to remember what you've done, cause you know it don't set well."

AS "No it don't set well."

CB "Well, you've got to do something about it."

AS "Yeah, I know. What was the other thing that you wanted to bring up? I'm not having as much fun here as I could be."

CB "It's not always about fun."

AS "Well then, I must be right where I belong anyway."

CB "You okay to go on?"

AS "I'm alright. Let's do it."

CB "I've been shaking my head awhile about this one."

AS "I know what you're talking about, don't I?"

CB "I'm sure you do."

AS "Well, he seemed so approachable."

CB "Approachable doesn't mean unprofessional, Audrey. He's huge, and you should have approached him much, much differently, if, my friend, at all."

AS "I know it."

CB "No, you don't know it. You need to hear the rest."

AS "I already know what you're saying."

CB "Well maybe if you hear it, you'll consider it a little bit better next time."

AS "No, (nervous laugh) I don't want you to say it. I really don't."

CB "It wasn't what you shared. You couldn't have found a more controversial subject to touch on, that wasn't good enough. That wasn't even the problem. The problem was the way you flippantly portrayed yourself. You're not flippant. Why you act like that?"

AS "I don't know. I really don't know."

CB "Well, maybe if you keep a low profile, and act like an adult, maybe things will work out."

AS "You think so?"

CB "I hope so."

OUT TO LUNCH with Ana Marianna

2006-06-04T21:33:00.000-07:00

AM "What's wrong, Audrey?"

AS "I'm discouraged."

AM "You knew that it would be this way."

AS "Yeah, I know. But that was before, when I was young."

AM "Sweetie, nothing's changed."

AS "Sure it has, I have. I'm not a puppy anymore."

AM "I rather like, "I'm not a kitten anymore."

AS "That was kind. Thanks. You know, someone asked me, 'If you talk to yourself do you always get the answers that you are looking for?' I thought it was a silly question. Of course I do. But you know what else?"

AM "What's that, dear?"

AS "I also get the answers I need. I try to be honest. Do you think that I'm honest?"

AM "Well, as honest as you can be I guess. It's hard to be impartial you know."

AS "I know, silly conversation isn't it?"

AM "Interesting I'd think. You aren't all that easy on yourself. You ask hard questions and I know that sometimes a pat answer would be easier to swallow. Anyway, that's not what you had on your mind."

AS "I know. You know me well, Ana. Like no one else. We've been through a lot together."

AM "It took you years before you knew who I was to you. I'm glad that you finally figured it out. It made more sense to you I'm sure. I know how attached to me you have become."

AS "That's true. And I understand now why I had to start An Angel of Mercy out with your death. I couldn't have dealt with losing you any other way."

AM "It served the book well."

AS "Oh, yeah, the book. That's what these interviews are supposed to be about. But right now, I just don't have it in me."

AM "Don't worry about it. Sometimes it's best to just get things off of your mind and out into the open."

AS "You know me pretty well too."

AM "How could I not? How many years has it been, twenty?"

AS "A little over."

AM "You know, it's time that you finished up 'Destiny's Child'.

AS "I know. But I get so distracted, and discouraged. I hate that. If I were to be all Christian and all then I'd not be admitting that. But right now, I just can't. It's hard. I had a lot of hope this last time out the gate. A lot of hope."

AM "Well, you know, the man was really nice, and that counts for a whole lot."

AS "Yeah, he was. But I don't usually get my hopes up there so very high. He had the subject matter right out there in front of him. Why would he have bothered to ask me for a word count in the first place? I could have handled, 'not right for us' so much better had he not been so approachable and personable. I'm not trying to fault him, I just need to work through this is all."

AM "That's all you can do."

AS "I know it. You're my stabilizer."

AM "I am your stabilizer. You created me that way. And while we're talking about creating, thank you for Christina. I needed someone that I could be a friend to, and as much mischief that girl got into, still, she was a faithful friend. Everyone should have a faithful friend."

AS "You know, I had a friend die recently. She was one of my elderly clients. I went and saw her at the hospital. She told her family that I was her best friend. Can you imagine? All because I took the time to care. I was honored."

AM "Don't you give up, you hear me. In your book you spent many years of your life doing just that: Caring, and teaching others how to care."

AS "It wasn't all that hard. I do care."

AM "It's not a bad thing. Look how the Pastor ran the church service today. His story about the little old lady that was blind and had skin cancer was so sweet."

AS "Yeah, it reminded me of my Great Aunt Bert. Her face was a mess, but she sure was a sweetheart."

AM "She taught you a lot."

AS "That's a fact. I think what she taught me most wasn't something that she ever said. It was her kindness, and her silent suffering. She never complained about her skin rotting right off of her face. And you know, I never was really offended by her. Only the smell, sometimes the smell was hard to deal with."

AM "She was brave. And she cared about you too. Remember when you and your Grandma got into that huge fight? She was right there letting you know that she believed that you had been misunderstood, and she told you that your grandma would understand too. And she did."

AS "Yeah, eventually! She was doing the dishes and I was so sad that I had said mean things to her. She stopped what she was doing and asked me if we could still be friends. I'll never forget that."

AM "You write her heart into a lot of wisdom that you share."

AS "My Grandma's heart? I thought the wisdom was the you in me."

AM "Silly girl. Where did you think I got it from?"

AS "I never thought of it like that. Thank you Ana. Everyone should have an Ana and a Grandma in their lives."

AM "You keep believing that, Audrey. And you know what? Some day they will."

OUT TO LUNCH with Audrey Semprun

2006-06-01T23:16:00.000-07:00

AS "So, you did it again."

AS "I did."

AS "And how do you feel?"

AS "Extremely hopeful."

AS "How long will it last?"

AS "Usually until I get the rejection letter, but sometimes my hope fades first."

AS "Why are you writing this?"

AS "I guess because of the passion. I always feel like I've submitted my best."

AS "Was it an agent or a publishing house that you contacted?"

AS "A publishing house. I've had too many rejections from agencies and I just don't have the heart to try one more right now. In fact, I wasn't even of the mindset to query."

AS "What spurred you on?"

AS "Nothing different really. I just got to wandering around on my computer. One thing led me to another and before I knew it, there I was on this website feeling like I could maybe belong."

AS "How do you do it?"

AS "Do what?"

AS "Put your hopes on the line yet again one more time?"

AS "I believe in my writing. What's more, I believe that the Lord is going to use me mightily with my words and that it's my responsibility to dare to dream."

AS "But isn't it frustrating, all of the rejections and all."

AS "Tell me about it. Each time I am refused I take it clear to heart. I'm told time and again that it's subjective. I can't buy that. It's personal to me. I put my heart and soul into my writing and every time I contact someone offering myself and my 'creations' I'm taking a terrible risk of feeling like a failure."

AS "How soon will you know?"

AS "It said on their website six to twelve weeks."

AS "Will you contact anyone else while you are waiting?"

AS "No, I will wait."

AS "But isn't that a little foolish, I mean, shouldn't you be contacting several different places, agents and publishers alike?"

AS "I just don't see it that way. I only knock on one door at a time. That's how I've always done it."

AS "Have you ever considered that you are wasting an awful lot of time working your strategy that way?"

AS "It says in my book, The Bible, which is my main reference, that God is never late. I have to believe that when the time is perfect then He will open the right door. In the meantime I will just keep knocking."

AS "How often do you usually submit a query or proposal or synopsis?"

AS "On the average I manage to dare to try about once every three or four months."

AS "Why so long a time span?"

AS "Well, first I'm waiting for a response. Then I'm either still waiting for a response, long after I should have just never-minded, or I'm reeling from rejection."

AS "It hits you hard, huh?"

AS "Like a brick."

AS "How do you go on?"

AS "I have to. Like I said before, I really believe in my work."

AS "Is there any suggestions that you would have for other aspiring writers?"

AS "My opinion isn't exactly sought out."

AS "Well, I'm interested, and I'm asking, although no one's seeking me out either."

AS "I guess we're in this together."

AS "So it would appear."

AS "I guess I could answer your question."

AS "Yes?"

AS "My advice to aspiring writers is for them to test the spirit. Check deep inside of yourself and ask yourself what are you writing for? Are you writing for the almighty dollar? If so, you will most likely be able to find your niche. I learned a long time ago that it doesn't have to be good to be published."

AS "Sorry for interrupting, but how's that?"

AS "Oh, it's just something that I observed one time at a writer's meeting. I was bored to tears by a published author that was so enamored with her book that she didn't speak on it or the art of writing the thing, she merely read to us. I was ready for her to close the book after about the first sentence."

AS "Wasn't that a little harsh?"

AS "No, not really. It was a romance, and poorly written at that, and I like a good romance."

AS "Was she a secular author?"

AS "Yeah, but they don't have the market on bad writing. I once read a gal's self-published novels that made me literally ill. Not only were they lacking in craftsmanship but they were also full of holes plot-wise and psychotic when it came to trying to piece any kind of sense out of them."

AS "So, bad books annoy you?"

AS "Terribly."

AS "Do you think that is your underlying fear?"

AS "How's that?"

AS "What I'm saying, is, do you fear that people will consider your books to be inferior?"

AS "Well, truthfully, when I'm in the throes of writing and the passion is flowing I have no concerns. But then when I put my baby out there and I'm told she's been rejected, well, then I have to admit that I question my ability to write at all."

AS "But why would you question that? You've been writing for years."

AS "It's my lack of education I guess. I get so intimidated by all of these people in the publishing industry that have all of the answers and no time or patience for anything less than a sparkling resume and a list of credits. I have neither."

AS "Do you ever consider going back to school? I know that you had once aspired to be a college graduate."

AS "That was a long time ago. I don't want to go to school. All I really want to do is to write. I was born to write, I'm sure of it."

AS "What will you do if this publishing house rejects you. or should I say, rejects your work?"

AS "I'll do what I have to."

AS "Which is?"

AS "I'll cry. Then I'll release the hurt and the anger and I'll procrastinate."

AS "Is procrastinating wise?"

AS "No, but it's all I can do. It takes time for me to wander back into shape."

AS "What about just bouncing back?"

AS "This old balloon ain't got that kind of gas."

AS "Oh, I see."

AS "Yeah, if you burst my bubble it takes some time for me to regroup."

AS "Do you realize that you have gone from a hopeful attitude to a defeatist attitude?"

AS "It's just part of the deal."

AS "You think so?"

AS "I know so."

AS "Well, I wish you well."

AS "Yeah, me too."

AS "You never finished with the advice to other writers."

AS "All I can say is that if it's meant to be then no power on earth will stop it. If it's not meant to be then you could force the issue, but you would never be satisfied with the results."

AS "How do you know the difference?"

AS "As I said before, test the spirit. If God gives you a peace that passes all understanding that one day He will bring your vision to life, then go for it. If you don't have that kind of peace then you need to search a little deeper. Maybe your gift is not writing after all."

AS "It's that simple?"

AS "No, not simple, it's that complex."

AS "Is there anything else that you'd like to add?"

AS "No, I'm going to go read my query letter again. I'm certain it's the best one yet!"

OUT TO LUNCH with Daniel McClure

2006-06-01T19:01:00.000-07:00

DM "So, what about me?"

AS "What about you? You don't belong here."

DM "Now why doesn't that surprise me?"

AS "Daniel, you're not being fair."

DM "Me not being fair? What do you think that you're doing?"

AS "Just what am I doing?"

DM "You've set me aside, again! And I'm not happy about it either."

AS "I haven't. I seriously plan on getting back to you."

DM "Is that right? When? When I'm eighty, or better yet, when I'm dead and buried?"

AS "Don't you think that you are being just a little melodramatic?"

DM "Not at all. My complaints are warranted, and you know it."

AS "How so? If I say that I'll get back to you that should be enough."

DM "Hardly. You don't have that great a track record if you remember right."

AS "Yeah, but that wasn't my fault. Steven told me to throw your book away. He said that I had a new life and that you couldn't be a part of it. I was young and I just didn't know any better. You know that if I could I'd do things differently."

DM "Look lady, that's a non-issue. What's gone is gone. My concern is that you have walked away from us again. Why should I believe that it will be any different than the last time?"

AS "I haven't thrown you away. You're in the closet. I know just where you are."

DM "In the closet. Should I be honored?"

AS "Daniel, what do you want from me?"

DM "I want you to get off of your fat splat and get back to work."

AS "My fat splat? Where did you get that from?"

DM "Wasn't that part of a joke that Diana told you earlier?"

AS "I don't think so. Her joke was something about skinny dipping."

DM "Yeah, and now it was a fat splat."

AS "Don't sound too nice anyway. And I think that's the wrong line."

DM "You got my point."

AS "Painfully so. I wish you wouldn't be so cross."

DM "Well, tell me this. How would you feel if I just decided that I wouldn't let you have me in your book. How would you feel then?"

AS "But Daniel, you're a main character. I need you."

DM "Well, I could say that about you, but you wouldn't care. In fact, I have already said that about you but you refuse to listen. Our character revolt has gained us absolutely nothing."

AS "I don't mean to leave you shelved, honest. Can I be honest with you?"

DM "I'm listening."

AS "I'm stuck. I could almost just leave you all as a short story and move on."

DM "A short story? You wouldn't? How could that possibly be fair? We were a novel! Are you really that heartless?"

AS "I don't mean to be heartless. I just don't know where to go with the storyline. And I've just been too busy to be able to think it all through."

DM "If you would just pick up the stupid pen then we'd be more than happy to write ourselves. How do you think you've gotten this far? But if you refuse to even try then we don't have a prayer."

AS "But I've got so many other commitments. I just never have the time."

DM "I don't want to hear it. Don't think that we don't know that you wrote an entire book of memoirs in November. And then you wrote a sequel to that book in February."

AS "That was February and half of March. But it was important..."

DM "My point exactly. And while I'm at it, what about that lovely book of poems? Think that we didn't notice that either? Heck, those poems are almost as old as we are. At least they at least have finally seen the light of day."

AS "And you will too. You just have to be patient."

DM "Right, twenty years later and I'm supposed to be patient? If I don't nag you then you'll just walk away. Just like before."

AS "What do you want from me?"

DM "I want a little bit of respect is all. And the others, they want some too. You can't just make us up and then walk away. Who have we got besides for you? Don't think that we haven't tried to work our ways into someone else's' mind set. It just didn't work. No one knows us like you do."

AS "And I do know you, and Jessica and Penelopy too. And after your little revolt I'll never forget David again either."

DM "That's what you say. But we want some proof. We want to know what your intentions are."

AS "Well, I've been busy working online, you know, to kind of get a persona going on. I'm trying to get some interests in my Trilogy."

DM "I could about puke your trilogy!"

AS "Why would you say that?"

DM "Why not? You act like they are your babies, and anything else you write is just unwanted step-children."

AS "I don't feel that way."

DM "Oh, no? I think you do. Just listen to yourself when you write about your other work. Heck, you even went so far as to self-publish your step-work. But would you ever seriously consider offering up your precious three novels for all the world to see without representation? I know that you would never! But what about, CHARACTER'S FOLLY? Just how important is that?"

AS "You do have a point. But what am I supposed to do? I have so much on my plate."

DM "How about serving us up?"

AS "With or without catsup?"

DM "I'll leave that up to you."

OUT TO LUNCH with Arthur Logan

2006-05-26T21:59:00.000-07:00

AS "Arthur, I'm glad that you could make it."

AL "I'm not right sure why I'm here."

AS "I just wanted to touch base with you."

AL "Well I ain't knowin' what I gots to say that would be all that 'nterestin."

AS "There's lots of things that are interesting about you."

AL "I ain't noen speschal."

AS "I know a whole hand full of kids who would disagree."

AL "Oh yeah, the youngun's. Whadda they know? They ain't got noen else."

AS "I was looking to get some feedback from some of the characters from my novels."

AL "I ain't got no learnin."

AS "I'm not looking for anything to do with book smarts. I just wanted to get a feel for how my characters feel about how I portrayed them."

AL "Well, you done alwright by me, Miss Audrey, you done just fine by me."

AS "You don't think that I was too hard on you?"

AL "Heck no. Shoot, you couldda been a whole lot more gritty by me. Lord knows I done desrved it."

AS "I put you through a lot of changes."

AL "I had it cummin. I ain't got no beef with you."

AS "You know Arthur, you aren't all that bad."

AL "I ain't nothin' to write home about neither, I know that's a fact."

AS "I thank you kindly for coming. You're a good man."

AL "I ain't no gooder than anyone else, but hey, at least I'm honest."

AS "And that counts for a lot in my books."

AL "You're alwright."

OUT TO LUNCH with Rose Marie

2006-05-25T22:02:00.000-07:00

AS “Rose, I didn’t think you’d come.”

RM “My mom gave you a pretty hard time yesterday didn’t she?”

AS “I can’t blame her. I have been pretty hard on her.”

RM “No, not really. She’s got problems.”

AS “You see it? I was beginning to think that it was me.”

RM “No, not you. It’s her. She’s always been a little cold and distant. We have a good relationship, don’t get me wrong, but I know my mother.”

AS “I’m glad you’re not angry. I don’t know why I had even wasted any time worrying about it, you’ve always been reasonable and level headed.”

RM “My mom’s a good person. She’s just got things a little twisted. She grew up in church you know, but she sure doesn’t know the Lord.”

AS “I think I’m pretty aware of her history.”

RM “Oh, yeah. I guess you would know. Anyway, can I go on?”

AS “Please do.”

RM “What I’m trying to say is that I really can’t blame my mother for her strange perception of God. She brought me up in church but I never knew that God was someone that I could know personally. I always thought that He was somewhere off in heaven ruling the world with His heavy hand. Mom never spoke of having a relationship with Jesus. She only let me know that God was ever watching and that He would ‘get me’ if I messed up. I guess that whatever faith that she had was so shallow that she quit believing it herself. I know that it had never done anything for me.”

AS “That sermon , 'Death, Destruction, and Deliverance' was the turning point for you, wasn’t it.”

RM “It sure was. I never felt anything like it as the word went forth with such power and conviction.”

AS “She missed all of that you know.”

RM “But she was right there. We were sitting side by side.”

AS “Yeah, but she wasn’t open to the moving of the Holy Spirit. She didn’t feel what you did.”

RM “You know, you're right, and I hadn’t even noticed at the time. I should have known. Maybe I could have saved her a lot of grief.”

AS “You had no way to know. It wasn’t your point of view, so how could you? You had other things on your mind.”

RM “Lots of other things.”

AS “Maybe we should go over a few points about the books. I know that Mary Anne wouldn’t appreciate us sitting here discussing her and her shortcomings!”

RM “Not too many people that know me refer to my mother by her first name, at least not to me.”

AS “I did that more for the readership than for you. Just in case someone has come in late and doesn’t know who I’m talking about.”

RM “Oh, I see. Good idea.”

AS “All in all, what is your overall opinion about these first two books of mine, and how do you feel being a part of my over-active imagination?”

RM “I’ll address the second part of your question first. If it weren’t for your over-active imagination I wouldn’t be sitting here, and that’s a fact! As far as the books go, I enjoyed them both. But I’m really anxious about the third book. I’ve heard some rumors and it’s making me nervous.”

AS “The third book is about God’s keeping power. But as the first book deals with God’s mercy, and the second with God’s judgment, it’s hard to say what life-lessons will have to be learned by the teens. The best thing that you can do is pray for the children. Who knows, maybe what has been meant for evil can be turned around for the good.”

RM “But why do I have to pray? You’re the author. It’s in your power to create good or evil.”

AS “Your mom thought that too. That’s not exactly how things work. I’m not omnipotent over here. I don’t have free reign on my characters. I hope the best for each and every one of them, but then I have to accept that some of them are going to make wrong choices and have to suffer the consequences of those choices.

RM “I never would have thought that it’d work that way. So, with Arthur, it was his own choices?”

AS “Exactly.”

RM “Now that’s interesting. I had always kind of wondered about that.”

AS “He’s quite a character, don’t you think?”

RM “And then some!”

AS “Mind if I change the subject?”

RM “Not at all.”

AS “Well, the basic purpose of these interviews is to get a better understanding of how well I related to you all. Is there anything that stands out in your mind that you would like to comment on or to share?”

RM “I learned a lot about myself through your book. You made me deal with things that I didn’t want to, but when it was all said and done, I was glad for it.”

AS “Did you want to elaborate?”

RM “No, not really. You know what they are, and that’s enough for me. If I get to talking too much I'll just be giving away storylines.”

AS “You’ve got a point there, so let’s move on. Is there anything that you felt went unresolved?”

RM “Yes, I would have liked to have seen a clearer picture of what my grandfather was doing. He ended up just kind of fading into the background.”

AS “I hadn’t thought about that. I didn’t mean to leave him in limbo. How about if I let him have a cameo appearance in Destiny’s Child?”

RM “I think that’d be great. I really did grow to be quite fond of him.”

AS “Yeah, me too. He’s incredibly handsome you know.”

RM “He is. It’s no wonder why my grandma Ana loved him so much. I’m glad that you told their story.”

AS “Yeah, me too.”

OUT TO LUNCH with Mary Anne McAlister

2006-05-23T22:13:00.000-07:00

AS "So, Mary Anne, I'm glad that you could join me."

MM "This shouldn't take long?"

AS "Not too long. You don't mind being here do you?"

MM "I'm just not sure why you would want to talk to me."

AS "You're a pretty important character in two of my novels. I just wanted to chat with you and see how you feel about the work. I talked to Lenny yesterday and it went pretty good I thought. After it was all said and done he told me that he was behind me 100%.

MM "Yeah, he would. He came out pretty sweet in the deal."

AS "Sweet in the deal? He earned his respect. Are you upset? You seem to be a bit testy."

MM "Why would I be upset? All you did was air my dirty laundry throughout the course of not one, but two novels!"

AS "I wrote you honestly."

MM "Honest as what? You were insensitive and judgmental. What did I ever do to you to be written with such disdain?"

AS "Disdain? You've got that all wrong."

MM "Yeah? How so? You plotted me into some awful messes."

AS "Wait a minute. I didn't plot you anything. It was your lack of character and bad choices that got you into the hard places."

MM "Hard places? They weren't hard places. That is not until you trashed me. I was just having a good time."

AS "A good time? You were miserable!"

MM "Only because the 'moral patrol' decided that I needed reproved! I am an intelligent woman, and you painted me as a fool."

AS "I didn't paint you anything. I only called it like I saw it."

MM "You had no business to meddle."

AS "Mary Anne, you made it everyone's business! You had no shame!"

MM "What do you care? You had your say."

AS "Am I missing something here? I thought that your situation was resolved. I thought that we worked everything out."

MM "Oh sure, you got me all straightened out. Except for I'm angry. I don't appreciate how you determined that I was not living right."

AS "And you can tell me that you were? Hardly!"

MM "Okay, so let's say that I wasn't living right. What business was that of yours? What gives you the right to step in and mess everything all up?"

AS "Me step in and mess everything all up? Boy, do you have that wrong! It wasn't my idea for you to get kicked to the curb. You did that all by yourself."

MM "Yeah, and how was that?"

AS "It was your attitude. And that brings something else to my mind. You slipped into the background and seemed all contrite and reformed, but I can see that you haven't changed one bit."

MM "What else was I supposed to do? If I didn't make an open show of my 'repentance' as you like to call it then I was likely to be kicked out of your whole little town. You left no room for me within the boundaries of your narrow little mind."

AS "My narrow little mind happened to create you."

MM "Okay, so then I'm your fault. I'm a figment of your warped imagination. You created me evil."

AS "No I never. It's true that I first placed you on the page, but then after that I gave you free reign and you know it. I'm not going to accept the responsibility of your hard heart or bad choices."

MM "Then whose fault is it?"

AS "Your's, plain and simple. I gave you a chance to make better choices, but you wouldn't hear me. You know it's true."

MM "So now what is it that you want from me? I really don't want to be here."

AS "You can go Mary Anne. We've accomplished nothing."

MM "But what about the books?"

AS "What about the books? What do you care about the books?"

MM "Not a whole lot, except for my whole world evolves around those books and you know it. Without them I have no Rose Marie, no hope, no future."

AS "Then why not lighten up? Why not consider the possibility that maybe my point of view just might be worth considering? Why do you think that I am against you? I care about you, Mary Anne. You're a part of me."

MM "A part of you? Which part? The foot?"

AS "There's no talking to you. This interview is over."

MM "That figures. Go ahead, be right."

AS "I'm not right for the sake of being right. I'm right because I am."

MM "Whatever."

Author's muse: That went well...

OUT TO LUNCH with Leonard Freeman

2006-05-22T22:51:00.000-07:00

AS “Hey Lenny. Glad you could join me.”

LF “Thanks for asking.”

AS “You ready?”

LF “Sure.”

AS “How do you feel about being a main character in my novel?”

LF “Wasn’t exactly asked.”

AS “So, am I to take it that you mind?”

LF “Didn’t say that. Just wasn’t my idea.”

AS “Did you get anything out of it?”

LF “Yeah, I did. But it took a lot from me too.”

AS “How’s that?”

LF “I didn’t ask to be ‘outed’ like that.”

AS “That bothered you?”

LF “Somewhat.”

AS “Why?”

LF “You never addressed the issue.”

AS “What issue was that?”

LF “Homosexuality.”

AS “Yeah I did.”

LF “No, not really. When you introduced me I was already out of the lifestyle. You have no idea what all I had been through and how I came to walk away from my old ways.”

AS “I thought that it was personal.”

LF “It was personal, but so am I, and you put me right out there in front of God and everyone.”

AS “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize.”

LF “Yeah, well, if you were going to go and get all that busy then you could of at least found out what my story was. Even if you didn’t share it with your intended audience, you could have at least cared enough to ask.”

AS “I didn’t think.”

LF “I’m not trying to be hard on you. I appreciate what you were trying to do, but I just don’t think that you were true to the character with the way that you skirted such a weighty issue.”

AS “Do you think that I should try and deal with it in Destiny’s Child?”

LF “Naw man, let it go. You should have dealt with it in my book. It’s okay. It’s over now.”

AS “Yeah, it is over. That leads me to ask you something.”

LF “What’s that?”

AS “All in all, what did you think of it?”

LF “Well, I can’t say that I didn’t like it. If only I hadn’t been so distracted by what you should have, but didn’t say.”

AS “I hear you. I wasn’t trying to overlook what you consider to be such a critical issue. But I did read an awful lot about ‘goth’ before I ever started writing you. And anyhow, isn’t that more true to your character as that’s what you were, not gay.”

LF “Yeah, but I still had all of the mannerisms of a gay man. You just never addressed it is all I’m saying.”

AS “You got me on that one. I’ll keep that in mind if I ever get that busy again.”

LF “But you won’t.”

AS “No, you’re right. I won’t. But I won’t forget either. I’ll make it a point to ask more questions.”

LF “Well, that’d be a good idea, I mean if you are going to get all that busy then you really need to ask yourself the hard questions. You can’t just float over something because it’s too difficult to deal with. Unless you are really ready to ‘go all the way’ so to say, you’d be more true to your character by not dealing with things that you aren’t willing to deal with.”

AS “Good point. You okay with us moving on?”

LF “Sure.”

AS “About the drama. Were you okay with that?”

LF “It was good. Kind of shocking, but it was good.”

AS “And the way your conflict resolved itself. Are you okay with that?”

LF “Didn’t have a choice, now did I, but sure, I’m okay. Even though it wasn’t what I would have written for myself, still, all in all, I can live with it.”

AS “Really?”

LF “Really.”

AS “What do you think that your personal role in the novel added to or took away from the overall work?”

LF “Well, for one, it was pretty far out there, don’t you think? You really took a huge stretch dropping a gay and a gothic bomb all in the person of Leonard Freeman, if I may speak of myself in the third person.”

AS “Do you think it was too much?”

LF “It worked, but let me ask you one thing if I could.”

AS “Yeah, what’s that?”

LF “Who’s going to buy it?”

AS “Good question.”

LF “Good luck…”

AS “You didn’t answer my question.”

LF “Come at me one more time.”

AS “What do you think that your personal role in the novel added to or took away from the overall work?”

LF “I can see how the character moved a lot of storylines along.”

AS “But you don’t think that there was validity to your character?”

LF “I didn’t say that. It’s just that it felt like he was a stepping stone to a greater thought or goal is all. He never really seemed to matter, not really.”

AS “That’s not true. Lenny mattered.”

LF “I just think that you could have explored his mindset a little bit more. Now, with the women in the book you were all over it with what motivated them. As for my character, I just did whatever came next.”

AS “I hadn’t ever thought of it like that.”

LF “Yeah, well, that’s probably because I’m more in touch with my feelings and my emotions than you were to what was going on inside of me.”

AS “But men are usually so factual…”

LF “That’s true. But I wasn’t your ordinary man.”

AS “Touché.”

LF “Yeah, touché.”

5/22/06

"OUT TO LUNCH"

2006-05-22T19:32:00.000-07:00

A small brain-child jumped into my mind this morning. I am going to be writing a series of 'interviews' with various characters that I have created and that are running around in my Trilogy, AN ANGEL OF MERCY, ANGEL OF INSIGHT, and DESTINY'S CHILD.

The first 'character' that I will be interviewing is Leonard Freeman. Leonard is a former gay, who is gothic and a praise and worship leader in my second novel, ANGEL OF INSIGHT.

I hope that I will have many 'guests' wander around in my mind with me...