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Archive for the ‘Non-Fiction’ Category

And The Nominees Are…

Posted in Blogging, Inspiration, Lists, Non-Fiction, Relationships, Uncategorized, Writing, tagged , , , , , , on June 14, 2012| 16 Comments »

It’s a cozy little place, this blogosphere. At first, I was tentative, holding out. Afraid of scrutiny and criticism yes, but exposure…now that was the scary, no…terrifying, Walking Dead zombie, trapped in a sinking car, hanging off a ledge clinging to a loose rock kind of fear I had of this place…this place, that I now think of as home.

Inhibitions on the back burner, I feel excited to cast out my thoughts and words. My heart pounds as I click my stats and wait for views to appear. It skips a beat when that icon turns orange showing I have a new comment, like or follow. Yes, I admit it. I post. I wait. I hope.

But, like everyone else, I was once unsure. It’s a very bizarre conundrum; loving… longing to write but scared shitless someone might read it.

I’ve come a long way. When I was a child I scribbled stories and ripped them up, afraid, even to keep a journal. Not for fear of my thoughts being read, but that someone would know I’d been writing. The confusing feeling haunts me to this day.

A couple of years ago I did the NaNoWriMo challenge. I wrote and I wrote. It was a huge part of my life for thirty days. I could in fact say that it consumed me. But…I didn’t tell anyone. Obviously, I had to explain to my immediate family why I was less than present, but besides them and the one friend I was taking the challenge with, I told no one else. And, I did not, could not even tell those few who knew about my undertaking what I was writing about. I wrote sixty thousand words and each one of them, my spooky little secret.

I have a similar squeeze when I finish someone’s make-up. When they look in the mirror or stand in front of the camera for the first time, my body seizes and I feel despair that my art is about to be unveiled and subsequently, examined.

Now, I’m posting for the world (hardy, har, har, I wish) to see.

Yes, I’ve come a long way.

The fear has subsided. I still flush as I hit publish, much I’m sure, like a performer about to hit the stage for the…what number is this…twenty-fifth time, still slightly wet behind the ears, but bolstered. Bolstered, thanks to viewers, screaming fans, readers, commenters…pick your poison. They’re all reassuring.

One of the first people to throw my name and “writer” together was P.C. Zick and I am truly grateful to her for that. I am also very grateful (in no particular order) to the following bloggers for many different reasons; their friendship, their support, their writing, their endeavors and their honesty, just to name a few:

1. P.C. Zick http://pczick.wordpress.com/

2. Saige Wisdom http://saigewisdom.blogspot.ca/

3. Lesley Richardson http://www.standingnakedatabusstop.com/

4. Year of Austere http://yearofaustere.wordpress.com

5. Nicole Jane Home http://blog.nicolejane.com/

6. Whiskey Tango Foxtrot 4 http://whiskeytangofoxtrot4.wordpress.com/

7. Sylvia Behnish http://www.thecreativenesswithinme.blogspot.ca/

8. Lewis Thomson http://lth0ms0n.wordpress.com/

9. TK Butterfly http://teekay16.wordpress.com/

10. Rachel Carter http://rachelcarter.me/

11. Ashley Jillian http://ashleyjillian.com/

12. http://secretdiaryofadublincallgirl.wordpress.com/

13. Bethany Lovell http://froggology.blogspot.ca/

14. Adam Martin http://livelikeagrownup.wordpress.com/

15. Carole Bell http://ringmybell-cybell.blogspot.ca/

Write it – Walk it – Own it

Surprisingly, I’ve been nominated for the Inspiring Blog Award and the above fifteen bloggers are my nominees for the same. The named fifteen are now asked to pay it forward, so to speak. Write a post citing your nomination, a link to my post, fifteen nominees of your own and seven things about yourself. (although mine aren’t in bullet form, I believe I’ve woven at least seven in there somewhere, and if it’s less, don’t rat me out)

Thank you Patricia for the vote of confidence and for inspiring me to write today.

Thank you Bloggers, for overcoming whatever challenges you face in creating and relaying your craft to others. It’s an inspiration to us all.

Thank you readers, for perusing my murmurs and mutterings and making me feel like they’re worthy of a tiny piece of this sphere.

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Hot Diggity Blog

Posted in Blogging, Inspiration, Non-Fiction, Uncategorized, tagged , , , , , on June 7, 2012| 8 Comments »

Trust me?

I worked like a dog today. Do dogs really work that hard? I know mine doesn’t! (What is that quote about anyway?) But I did. I didn’t sit down all dang day, stopping only to have intermittent bites of the banana I chose as a quick, convenient (not all that satisfying) lunch. (Well, I could’ve had potato chips, so stop looking at me like that)

Yes…as soon as I got in from a leisurely, hang out till you can’t hang no more breakfast, I worked hard.

Oh. Now I’ve lost your trust. Okay, I did go for breakfast, but I swear, when I got home, I did a week’s worth of work over the next nine hours.

I cleaned bathrooms, vacuumed carpets, washed floors, built a piece of furniture, gutted kid’s rooms, disemboweled a (very constipated) closet, ran eight loads of laundry (amazingly easy to accumulate that amount at my house), sorted paperwork (also stupefyingly effortless to accrue here and, hands down, my most dreaded chore), let pets in and out of what they believe is a never locked, always available revolving door and I, the doorman at the Hilton. (If only this were the Hilton – Hawaii, take me away)

Am I winning you back yet? Trust me. I worked and I worked. It paid off too. Now, I’m only slightly behind for tomorrow as opposed to flailing moat deep like I would’ve been if I’d have, say, gone out for lunch today as well. Tempting, but no.

I watched Love Actually the other (much more appealing) night (the luxury is a distant memory), and I have to admit, I envied (cursed) Colin Firth as he hired a ‘house girl’ to look after his needs. (No, not like that. Well, at least not right away anyway) He sat at his typewriter, gazing out at the calm, Willow-brushed water, writing his latest, greatest novel while she cooked, cleaned and ran his errands. (I may have to stomp my feet for just a minute)

As I type this, I lay propped on several pillows, a heating pad scorching the undercarriage of my torso and a pillow supporting my screaming knees. Ahh, it hurts so good, or should that be bad? I’m delirious.

All right, I’ve had my fun. My rant has come to an end. An end yes, but not a bitter one.

I’m counting my blessings; I own a heating pad, I have a bed to lie on, there is a (brand new cedar) roof over my head that I am grateful for (even though it will take the next ten years to pay for), my children lay sleeping in their beds, I own a laptop, not a typewriter (Take that, Colin), I was able to bang out a post that I never thought possible today and…wait for it…I got to listen to Adele for nine hours straight. Who could ask for anything more?

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Lucky Thirteen

Posted in Blogging, Inspiration, Non-Fiction, Uncategorized, Writing, Young Adult Literature, tagged , , , on June 1, 2012| 10 Comments »

Gusts whipped through my hair, sun scorched my darkening skin and my lips caught as I attempted to close them over my wind-dried metal grin. 

Houses dripped by like a painter’s palette caught in the rain as I whirred down the long, straight street in front of my house and as I fell, I knew the searing pavement would shave a layer off my knees, elbows and stomach.

~

I awake the morning of my thirteenth birthday to sun spilling warm light over the sheets. I relish the glow, basking as it sidles in to loosen me from my twisted, tissuey nest. Stretching lazily amongst the sprawl, I’m like a sock unraveling as it comes out of a warm dryer.

Until it hits me…my birthday! Sluggish sock cast aside, I’m on my feet in seconds, skipping the bathroom, scurrying down the blue-carpeted hallway and hitting the cool, cream-colored lino in record time; the floor’s creviced, fine brown contours awakening the souls of my bare feet.

I eat fresh, flaky croissants; scooping spoonfuls of raspberry jam from the jar, dolloping each jewel-like glob right onto the pastry before every bite. My tongue twinges with dripping slices of citrus, their spray watering down the comic section as Garfield and Calvin blacken my fingertips. I move on to the horoscopes.

Mom flits here and there, filling balloons, attaching rosy crepe streamers from wall to wall and spraying veils of lemon polish over the rich Mahogany.

Dad is somewhere below us in the garage, perhaps tinkering, sanding or sorting nails, gearing up to cut the grass. My brother, almost seven years my junior, is off doing God knows what, starting fires or torturing the dog.

A quick fluff n’ wash and I’m out. Racquet and ball in hand I’m ready to whack a few hours away rallying off the garage door, sure to get away with it today, being the birthday girl n’ all.

The gate squeaks when I open it and as I round the corner there it is.  Balancing on a kickstand, glistening in the sun; a brand new, powder blue, Raleigh five-speed; its white-taped, ram-horned handlebars making my fingers curl, its big, red bow making my heart thump.

The garage door opens, startling me and exposing my family.

“Surprise!” all three yell, “Happy birthday!”

Unexpected tears hover just behind my lids as they all smile out at me from the cool shade of the garage, my Mom snapping away, camera in hand.

Okay, so I fell.  Only one scar lives on and even it is barely visible now. We were together, the sun was shining and I felt like I was the luckiest girl in the world.

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Why?

Posted in Blogging, Facebook, Inspiration, Non-Fiction, Relationships, Uncategorized, Writer's Block, Writing, tagged , , , on May 20, 2012| 7 Comments »

Support

Twenty…and a pregnant pause leading up to it. This may have seemed strategic on my part, but I really didn’t mean for there to be almost a week in between this and my last post. In fact, the delay pained me.

I could blame a cocktail fusion of bountiful duties, stresses and strains but those alone wouldn’t stand in my way. No…there was something else. Poison. Seeping in through breaks and pores and I, too hectic to see it.

Thoughts of redundancy crept in and took hold; feelings that what I had to say was useless, unnecessary, and, worst of all, uninteresting. After all, we can scoop out as much of the ‘useless unnecessary’ we want, but hand out uninteresting and the world stops. It stops, and so do the readers. Poison reigns.

As a result, this past week has been me, talking myself out of writing, telling myself no one will notice, no one will care…convincing myself it won’t matter. So, why slog on? Oh, woa-ez me.

My bouts with potentially potent poison have had me down in the fathomless folds of forlorn. Past visits to this dank, dark space have had me believing only I can get myself up and out and let’s face it, sometimes, the easy button just isn’t around; buried deep in the couch pillows or…under a slab of super thick cement.

This time has been different. It took me a while to clue in – I’m not alone. I have my interests, my thoughts, my words and a spot to call my own. I have expectant readers checking in, searching for fresh utterances. I have followers taking the time to comment, like and message and I have fellow bloggers gracing me with reblogs and mentions; all bestowing me with virtual high fives.

I love to write, but it can be an isolated endeavor. You are the antidote to the toxins that can sometimes course through my veins. I am truly grateful for your stake in my blog. I’m humbled by your interest in what I have to say. I am blessed that you inspire me to do what I hold dear.

You are why. I can’t thank you enough.

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Puzzlingly Peaceful

Posted in Blogging, Fiction, Inspiration, Non-Fiction, Uncategorized, Writing, tagged , , , on May 13, 2012| 11 Comments »

I like punctuation…I love words. And, I take great pleasure pushing the limits in the ways that I use them. And although I have an aversion to puzzles, I enjoy writing immensely, undeterred by the fact that puzzling is exactly what I’m doing while assembling sentences.

Now, I’ve heard that to twist the literary rules, you should first be proficient in applying them. While I’m sure there’s truth to that, I bend that rule, because I don’t claim to be, in any way, an authority on the ins and outs of all things scribal. I go by instinct. If I think it sounds engaging, it goes to print, be it technically tight or not. After all, that’s the beauty of a blog, right? I’m in control of my publish button; unauthorized, reckless reading material unleashed…moonstruck, mad as a hatter muddles.

My endeavor begins with throwing the pieces on the floor. Some are bright, some muted, some are hefty, others are stunted, but one thing is consistent; there are always too many and I’m never sure they all belong in the same box. So, on the floor they go. I stare at them for a while, upset with the mess I’ve made. Disappointed with all the extra work I’ve given myself. All the sorting I will have to do.

You’d laugh if you could skim my first draft. Thank goodness you can’t. It reads like a child’s misguided decoupage.

But, I’m determined. I throw back the curtains, crack the window, and hunker down. The carpet is soft and it’s beginning to warm in patches where the sun is stretching out. I get comfy, don the glasses and get out the “goo-be-gone.”

I’ve been told it’s best to start with the corners of a puzzle as the frame is what pulls and holds everything together. So bit-by-bit, I fuse the bones and eventually master a skeleton, casting fragments and clinkers to the side, discarding unnecessary ulnas and tibias.

I try to extricate the pieces that have zing and zeal and descriptions that are born behind the barn. I mean really, how does born behind the barn work here? I don’t know, but it has arrived from that mystical place that sometimes blesses me and I’m using it.

I’ve always been a crafty girl. Back in the day, we’d eat off our laps as clearing the dining table of paper snippets, glue, scissors and stencils proved too exhaustive. As I mention in my bio, I’ve since traded the crayons and scrapbooks for a laptop and a disparate strain of creativity. It’s much less messy and our obliging dining room table was begging to see the light of day.

Everything about writing is enchanting and mysterious for me. It’s a license to whip up worlds and doctor domains. I don’t need schwag to partake, I use limited tools and I can jot with unbridled abandon. I don’t have to wear uncomfortable shoes or drive a fancy car. I don’t need to be an Olympic athlete or live on the coastline in the South of Wales. (although that would be nice)  I can live all that through my fingertips and I’m oh so thankful. It’s a spellbinding thing.

Now…how my focus ricocheted from a puzzle, to decoupage, to a skeleton and eventually resulted in a fleshy body remains unexplained to me and, I honestly hope no one ever divulges the trick. It would spoil the show.

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Down Seven, Up Eight

Posted in Blogging, Hardship, Heroes, Inspiration, Non-Fiction, Uncategorized, Writing, tagged , , , , , , , , on April 28, 2012| 12 Comments »

“Fall down seven times, stand up eight”

My post today was going to depict dog-eared folks who have beaten the odds. They’ve achieved success on bountiful levels despite battered introductions and experiences in this world.

It was going to be about those who have essentially clawed themselves free from what would be seen as unsalvageable ruin and rubble and found their way to a breathing hole. People who have taken ownership of the debris and repurposed it into a life of their own; a life to be proud of.

I was going to write about Kevin (The Kid) Lewis who persevered his sadistic, abusive parents and the debacle they called a ‘home’. He struggled with right and wrong, suicide and self-deprivation long past his escape from outside influences and went on to follow his dreams of acceptance, family, writing and movie production.

I would’ve written about Nick Vujicic; born with a rare disease called Tetra-Amelia Syndrome. Yup, no arms, no legs. Contemplating suicide at the tender age of eight, love for his family carried him through the tough times. Nick went on to achieve vast successes, large and small. He is a University Graduate with a double major,  a preacher, an inspirational and motivational speaker, the founder (at seventeen) of Life Without Limbs, a non-profit organization and an author. In February 2012, he married his sweetheart. Talk about getting up when you’re down.

I could’ve told you about Randy Pausch; Husband, Father of three, Science Professor and Childhood Dream Achiever. He trusted in optimism prior to his Pancreatic Cancer and it served him well throughout his life. His ‘glass half full’ outlook carried him, respected and accomplished, to his death. It also scored him three years as opposed to the original three-month prognosis.

When told he had three months to live due to his tumor-riddled liver, he simply continued on with his lifelong legacy; positivity, video logs for his wife and children, one last book and one Last Lecture.

I’d ‘ve brought to your attention, Elizabeth (Liz) Murray. She came into the world through poor, drug-addicted, eventually HIV positive parents.  When her Mother died of AIDS, Elizabeth, fifteen, was homeless and left to fend for herself. She graduated high school in just two years while supporting herself and her sister. Snagging the New York Times Scholarship for needy students, Elizabeth was accepted into Harvard U in 2000. She left in 2003 to care for her ailing Father, continuing her schooling at Columbia to remain close to him.

He succumbed to AIDS in 2006, permitting her to return to Harvard to complete her Psychology degree. Today she is a motivational speaker and founder of the company Manifest Living.

My post would’ve included Aron Ralston. Somewhat of a pro climber, Ralston took an ‘easy’ hike and became imprisoned Between a Rock and a Hard Place. After five days of hallucinating and sipping his own urine, he had little choice but to amputate his trapped right arm with the dull blade of a multi-tool. His fortitude and fight for life carried him up and out of the canyon to eventual safety.

Aron is now an expert rock climber, using various extensions for his prosthetic arm, one of them being an ice pick for glaciers. He’s a motivational speaker, an author, a husband and a father. If you haven’t read his book, I strongly urge you to do so. Not only is it can’t put it down riveting, it’s fantastically written. This guy had the moxie to survive and the writing chops to prove he was meant to tell the story.

I was going to write about these people who are brimming with negatives turned positives, who ooze strength, courage and determination, who have taken their pain and unfairities and spun them into the stuff dreams are made of…the material of Superman’s suit…hero producing, goal achieving champions of challenge.

I was going to sing their praises and draw your attention to their utter and absolute amazingness.  I was excited to write about all of them…and then I realized they don’t want me to speak for them. They insist on speaking for themselves.

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Unwritten

Posted in Blogging, Non-Fiction, Relationships, Songs, Uncategorized, Writing, tagged , , , , on April 24, 2012| 13 Comments »

There are those who were latchkey kids, kids who didn’t have the ‘right’ clothes, were bullied at school, friendless…kids that endured self-indulgent, monstrous parents.

Some who had it rough. Like, real rough. Dirt poor, beaten, sexually abused, neglected, starved…abandoned.

There are folks who were never shown an ounce of love. Not nurtured, not praised, not cared for, not raised.

There’s the temptation to think; if only we had…which brings us to the people who had a solid upbringing, unconditional love…money galore and chose to piss it all away on material possessions and self-abuse…early ending lives. Spoiled and severely unhappy, lonely, effed up, tragic humans.

Then there are individuals whose success, fame and wealth seem to lead to a balanced and gratified existence. An existence suffused with paying it forward.

The world is full of different kinds of people with different principles, morals and motives. What makes us what we are? What makes us what we become?

At the risk of a cliché, life is what we make of it. It really is. We can let our journey make us, break us, drag down or define us, but the path we walk is our choice and every day is a new dawn because the rest is still Unwritten…

“I am unwritten

Can’t read my mind

I’m undefined

I’m just beginning

Pen’s in my hand

Ending unplanned

Staring at the blank page before you

Open up the dirty window

Let the sun illuminate the words

That you could not find

Drench yourself in words unspoken

Live your life with arms wide open

Today is where your book begins

The rest is still unwritten” (Natasha Beddingfield)

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No Coupon, No Carrot

Posted in Blogging, Non-Fiction, Saving Money, Uncategorized, Writing, tagged , , , on April 22, 2012| 4 Comments »

Seriously. Because we don’t have the little two by four inch flimsy scrap of paper we’re banned from getting the best deal? The carrot is dangling (that’ll be the last talk of carrots for a while, I promise) right in front of our noses and they’re not going to feed it to us?

Truth; I strongly dislike coupons. Okay, hard truth; I hate them. So, if you’re a voucher lover, you better look away because you’re bound to get nettled at some point during this post.

They drive me nuts. We, as customers, are supposed to search for them, cut them out, hoard them in our already bursting wallets and then make sure we remember to use them at the register. Am I missing something? Nope. We work for them.

It’s incomprehensible why, when we’re standing there in the flesh and want to drop a wad of dough, we need to have sought out these little dockets in order to get a discount.  Can’t we be rewarded just for showing up? For bringing in our business?

And, back to bursting wallets…are they bursting with the large amounts of cash we’ve saved using our coupons? Nope. They’re bursting with forgotten coupons and plastic cards, clever coupons in disguise.

Trickery

It’s ludicrous that we need to fill out forms, divulging our personal information (otherwise known as selling our souls) so that we can get the cheapest deal. Am I wrong? Don’t think so.

Understood. It’s advertising…a ploy to bring in more business, we get it, but we’re already there…and we’re not feeling good about it.

We’re putting down for a three hundred dollar meal and can’t have the free ten dollar appy because we didn’t scour the local paper wielding a pair of scissors before leaving the house.

Professional Coupon Cutter

We can’t get the ‘club prices’ at the grocery store we’ve been shopping at for years because we’re driving our spouse’s car and their key chain doesn’t sport the magic price fob. Urgh.

Coupons suck and frankly, ironically…they’re a rip-off.

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What’s Up, Doc?

Posted in Blogging, Non-Fiction, Relationships, Uncategorized, Writing, tagged , , , , , on April 21, 2012| 5 Comments »

Follow Bugs Bunny’s lead by gnawing solely on carrots and the spray tan biz would go belly up. Devastating, and I for one am not willing to risk it.

Every person has something to offer. All hold a unique element to throw into the pot. As mentioned before, although we may very much like carrots, it’s with the help of celery, onions, peppers, garlic and even a little salt that they are brought to their full potential. Varied components, in the right amounts, infused in a favorable environment, compliment one another, making a balanced and strengthening soup.

Being able to relate to people on different levels brings out new and diverse aspects of our character. The ability to accurately measure ingredients, taking only what is needed, is a skill, not a compromise. “To each their own” is not just lip service.

Life is a melting pot for living and learning and there’s plenty of broth to go around. Give some. Take some.

Speaking of lip service, what better lips to mouth the words; “You can’t always get what you want, but if you try sometimes, you just might find, you get what you need.”

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Top Ten facebook Flogs

Posted in Blogging, Ezine, Facebook, Lists, Non-Fiction, Top Ten, Uncategorized, Writing, tagged , , , , , , on April 18, 2012| 18 Comments »

Like for a TBH…

The likes, the pokes, the requests, the comments, the followers and our (with any luck and a few brief encounters) overflowing ‘friends’ lists are virtual validation. Whether we admit it or not, to us they’re confirmation that we’re awesome human beings.

They’re our second chance; an opportunity to snatch some of the attention we missed in school, an enabler to hang onto the worldly, well-liked whippersnappers we used to be or a window for reinvention, in case our first draft wasn’t working out.

facebook exists under the guise of passive hobby, but in reality, there’s not much passive about it. Dynamic statuses are written, lively comments are made and shameless self-promotions are flogged. (one day I’ll share my page with you) And it’s all very much the opposite of passive. In fact, one could venture to say that facebook, or should I say, its users, can be downright aggressive.

For a platform that is supposed to be airy-fairy, it can carry the weight of a cinder block. Users preach from their soapboxes, post links and videos to support their stances, tag undesirable photos, type words that would never otherwise be spoken and, since we’re being honest, let’s be honest…being limited, blocked or deleted stings for more than a second. So why should we have it?

Top Ten facebook Flogs

1. Connectivity: It’s invaluable to have familiarity with family and friends you wouldn’t normally see and having it through facebook is different than an email or a phone call. It allows us off-hand inspection of pages. It’s informal and approachable.

2. New Connectivity: “Friending” someone new is fun. Especially when they’re someone we will probably never see in real life ever again. (?)

3. Visualization: Photos, words and personalities come alive. I went to my _ _ high school reunion a while back and I likened it to the figures in a wax museum walking and talking. Creepy…

4. Socialization: facebook allows for casual contact. Little or no commitment, while remaining in the loop can be a huge draw. Yes, sometimes we can be sloths.

5. Events: Users can create or be invited to an event, check out the details, scan the guest list, see who’s replied and whether they are not, maybe or definitely attending, all with a few clicks.

6. Optimization: It enables users to reach a large amount of people all at once, personally, professionally or promotionally. It’s also a podium that can intermingle and showcase all three appropriately. (there are exceptions)

7. Puppy for Sale: People have a need to belong and on facebook, most everyone does. No matter dispositions, idiosyncrasies, or quirks, there’s a place for all to call home. Groupers, gamers and go-getters alike will find their niche amongst the 850 million registered peeps.

8. Information Facilitation: A nice way of calling out the nosy parkers; facebook is a haven for users looking to catch up on the latest (and greatest) happenings in the worlds and minds of others. And of course, it’s there for the taking.

9. As Easy as: anything that’s not hard. It really couldn’t be much simpler to navigate. And, that’s me talking, which means it’s easier than easy.

10. Why not?  Overall, it’s just pretty darn amusing.

And, if you managed to stick with me this far, here’s a bonus flog:

11. Control: It’s so very satisfying to delete, ignore or squash a cruddy comment, like the bug that it is.  Just sayin’. 

*This article is published on Ezine

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