When I need a writing break…kittens. They are more entertaining than TV and right outside my window.
What do you do for a writing break when you just need to let your mind relax?
Having worked in a church over the years in a very deep way, I like to sit back and see a reality check on how the church needs a sense of humor. God said we should be joyful. I believe laughter is one of God’s greatest gifts. It makes you forget about your ills and pains and sorrows. Smiles and laughs get me through the day. Just think about that feeling you get after a good laugh or a long bout of smiling. Then think about sadness and frowning. See the difference? And after thinking about that sadness, watch this video again and think of your own religious dwelling and laugh again to get back to happy.
And this situation just shows you how certain situations are just universal. No matter where you are you know you get this and can laugh…I hope. (I would write giggle here but I’m too macho.)
When people fail us
The sun then slips into rest
To let dreams prevail
For some unknown and humbling reason Maria at http://maria9saif.wordpress.com, a wonderful site by a wonderful lady showing her many talents has nominated me for a Liebster Award. Visit her and Follow her everywhere as I do. I would like to thank her sincerely because of what this award is given for. So, Maria, Thank You Sincerely.
Now I am to provide 11 random facts about myself, my apologies in advance:
1) I was born to fruit pickers in the orange groves of Florida
2) I hiccup whenever I cough
3) I learned how to stop my bike when I was little by running into trees
4) I’m allergic to the sun (see the irony of number 1)
5) I love the beach (see the irony of the above and number)
6) I love old movies, but can no longer watch them due to an injury
7) I used to sing lead in a praise band for the youth group at my church while I was their Youth Director
8) I can’t sing
9) I believe tortillas are the universal edible plate
10) I write poetry but don’t know how to
11) I am an introverted and very but love encouraging and complimenting people who deserve it
Now for the questions I must answer from Maria:
1- When did you start blogging?
I believe by looking at my first post it was April 17 of this year.
2- Why are you blogging?
Blogging is a therapy for me in many ways as well as a way to share my thoughts and creations. I also enjoy meeting people from around the world and discovering how more alike than different we are.
3- What was your favorite subject in school?
History thus becoming a History teacher.
4- Do you think cloning is ethical?
Cloning a sheep is one thing but if attempting to clone a human it is entirely different.
5- Do you trust your government?
To a certain extent but as with any government there are secrets that we are not aware of and in that I tend not to trust, especially in this current time.
6- If you could travel in only one continent, which would you choose?
This is a difficult one for a History person to answer. I think I would pick Asia. It is so diverse, ancient, and has great people.
7- Do you judge people by what they wear?
No. I don’t judge them by what they don’t wear.
8-What is the one thing you want to change about yourself?
To remember.
9-What is your favorite dessert?
My grandmother makes a pineapple coconut cake that I love. Tastes great and it’s made by her.
10- If you could have one super power what would you want it to be?
The power to change hearts from darkness to light.
11- Who is your favorite writer?
This is unfair! It all depends on the genre, but if I were to truly be honest…I would say God.
Determining who to nominate is difficult. There have been so many nice people in the community that have encouraged me. I wish I could nominate them all. I should keep a list of gratitude.
But the following are the ones I have chosen this time. Each has been supportive in some way, if not in actual personal words then in their posts and kindnesses through them. Also there is inspiration and learning found from each one.
http://akritimattu.wordpress.com/
http://jenspenden.wordpress.com/
http://forgottenmeadows.wordpress.com/
http://activearmywife.wordpress.com/
http://naomiboshari.wordpress.com/
http://lifeassirli.wordpress.com/
http://puritywaves.wordpress.com/
http://undergroundenergy.wordpress.com/
If you would like to know more about the Liebster Award please visit the URL below
The 11 questions for my nominations are as follows:
1-What has surprised you the most about blogging?
2-What inspires you to create each day?
3-If you were writing or imagining the ideal man what qualities would he have?
4-If you were writing or imaging the ideal woman what qualities would she have?
5-What movie brings your imagination to life?
6-What food or dish would you like to try?
7-What is your most embarrassing talent?
8-What is your favorite word?
9-What is love?
10-What is freedom?
11-What city on another continent would you like to visit?
Rod and Emerile were laughing. Rod nodded, I returned with a weak smile. He picked it up quickly.
The figure next to me held the brim of a fedora slowly twisting it out of shape. Rod elbowed Emerile. Both went silent staring up the street as if looking for the bus.
Fingers squeezed into fists around the felt. They trembled as they settled upon his knees.
An occasional sigh was cut off by choking sounds. He placed the fedora snuggly over his knee and gently took his left hand in his right. His thumb barely touched the ring on his finger as if afraid it would break.
People became silent as they walked up. The hiss of airbrakes signaled the arrival of the bus. The man stood up and put on the crumpled brimmed fedora.
Rod and Emerile stood to one side and others did the same. The man nodded. The dark black suit climbed into the bus revealing a glimpse of navy blue socks.
© 2014-2020 Ronovan Hester Copyright reserved. The author asserts his moral and legal rights over this work.
Never drive in a big city. You’ll miss too many lessons learned.
Several cultures intersect at the bus stop outside my apartment building, making for interesting observations. Margaret and Martin are a perfect example. 50 years of marriage. There’s great wisdom in those years.
“Martin, I think we should get one.”
“Eh… I don’t think so.”
“But we need one.”
“No, no, we’re fine.”
“How can you say that?”
“Haven’t needed one so far.”
“So you say.” Margaret crossed her arms around her purse and stared at the cracked pavement in front of her. Martin sitting next to her stared into the distance, his lips mouthing words. “Three, two, one…”
“But dear, just think how much better off we would be. All the other girls are getting them. Why, even Phil is getting Florence one.” Margaret thought mentioning one of his buddies might help convince him.
“Phil’s an idiot.”
“Now is that any way to talk? Seriously, he is one of your best friends.”
“Every group needs an idiot in the bunch.”
“Hmph.”
Martin continued to stare straight ahead. He’d won the battle. A few months ago he’d told me that over the 50 plus years they’d been together he’d learned two secrets to a successful marriage. Know when to be quiet. And never smile when you argue with your spouse, and definitely not when you win.
Their bus arrived, they stood as the door stopped in front of them, Martin holding Margaret’s arm as she stepped onto the bus, and him following behind with their fare. I didn’t know what Margaret thought they needed, but I knew if it had been something special or needed Martin would have caved. Martin chose his battles. Lesson learned at the bus stop.
© 2014-2020 Ronovan Hester Copyright reserved. The author asserts his moral and legal rights over this work.
You hear the advice to read your book aloud to see how it sounds and how it flows. It’s great advice. But I have a piece of advice for you; If you have suffered a Grade 3 Concussion anytime recently and begin to do this and people start peeking into your room, don’t be surprised if they ask if you need more medications
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Getty Images (c)
Ron Levinie/Photodisc
Writing, at its best, is a lonely life. Organizations for writers palliate the writer’s loneliness but I doubt if they improve his writing. He grows in public stature as he sheds his loneliness and often his work deteriorates. For he does his work alone and if he is a good enough writer he must face eternity, or the lack of it, each day.-Ernest Hemingway accepting the Nobel Prize for Literature in 1954 (You may listen to the actual speech here. It is only just over two minutes long.)
Does sharing your imagination frighten or worry you at times? Don’t laugh, you extroverted, uninhibited, creationistic, followers of your characters’ whims. There are those who think of who will be reading their work as in their friends and relatives, or even worse their religious leaders. Then all will know the strange goings on of their minds. Or even the naughty things they think of and dared shared. Those who do not venture into writing do not understand how the author can separate one world from the other.
Some will just laugh at the thought of being worried about what other people think, but for many it is a real fear. I believe this may be one think that keeps several very talented writers from ever becoming published or realizing their true potential. And the worst part is, they don’t even realize it.
Here is an example that might hit home for some. You have a situation where as you are writing one of the characters somehow turns out to be gay. I say somehow as in that it wasn’t a plan but as the story went along there was just something there that seemed to lead your writing in that direction. This character is a main character and a favorite. So far so good, right?
Now you have the issue that the author is fundamentally religious or whose friends are primarily against the gay life style. I use ‘religious’ because some religions share the same thoughts on certain issues. The writer personally doesn’t have an issue with it, but the friends would be shocked. So what does the writer do? Probably bails on the idea and just diverts from the issue.
But now we enter another one of those areas where the writer must decide between the truth of reality and the character or caving to peer pressure and believing it really doesn’t make a difference in the big picture. Where does the compromising end?
If anyone has read my We are the Editors of our Lives article you know that I believe God had a story written for us and then we end up editing it along the way. And I believe everyone may edit as they please without interference from anyone else, unless you plan to edit your life so that you intend to off me somehow. I might complain then.
I mention the article because my take on things is contrary to many that are of the same guild as I am in religion. I would write the character as the character would be written and move along. Would my views cost me some acquaintances? Yes, and it already has. But I believe that art should imitate life. Put what you believe into what you create.
I put the Hemingway quote at the beginning for a reason. Writing honestly will cost you some friends, perhaps many. Your life may end up a lonely one because you cannot make everyone happy. If you are making everyone happy then you are perhaps not being completely honest with yourself or your writing.
Readers want honesty. They are drawn to it. They revile the obvious snubs and cowardice of an author who runs from an issue. Some readers will never admit to reading the book, but they will read it. And…they will learn from it. That’s what we do, we allow them to escape into a place they want to be but cannot seem to get to. Be it a space adventure, a romance, a magical ride through another land, or yes, even admitting that there are real lives in the world that are not like our own but still exist and the world keeps turning as it always has anyway.
Now here comes the question all writers must face. Do you want to be true to yourself and your art and possibly end up lonely but free or be popular and unsatisfied with what should have been? And is perhaps honestly actually the popular in truth after all?
I like to know things about the people behind the words, the little things that don’t show up in Bios and Abouts. Thus, I decided to share a few of mine.
#10 I love to cook. If I can get my hands on it I will try to make something out of it. It will taste good just sometimes you may not want to look at it or ask what’s in it.
#09 Continuing on a theme for a moment, I believe anything can be eaten as a sandwich. It’s a guy thing.
#08 I like to sit in the shade while eating lunch and watch and listen to the birds.
#07 The sound and feel of the ocean at night is the best thing ever to me.
#06 I can wiggle my right ear.
#05 I once held a college weight lifting record which I am sure has long since been broken.
#04 I was born while my parents were traveling and picking oranges to earn money. So I always tell people I was born of migrant fruit pickers.
#03 The first serious writing I ever read was The Chronicles of Narnia, all of them, by C.S. Lewis when I was 11.
#02 Since an accident in the summer of 2013 my brain has not been able to shut down and rest thus I tend to get little sleep and have to try very hard to rein in my writing.
#01 I am part of a Three Degrees of Elvis Presley. (Like Six Degrees of Kevin Bacon) Thus I am also part of a Four Degrees of Ernest Hemingway or Marlon Brando or The Beatles or even Richard Nixon. My step brother dated the daughter of Sam Phillips who was the owner of Sun Records that recorded Elvis’ first records and launched his career. BB King also recorded with Phillips.
Bonus: I am part of a Two Degrees of Jerry Lee Lewis, the Rock And Roll legend. My much, much older cousin way, way back was one of his guitarists.
I hope you enjoyed and if you are someone I’ve exchanged a few comments with you are now included in a Degrees of Elvis, Brando, and Hemingway.
There are different customs in different parts of the world. In the South, that is the southern United States, we nod and smile when passing someone in a store, on a sidewalk, in a parking lot, or in a hallway. Visitors or transplants from other areas have difficulty at first wondering if they know the person and are just being rude having forgotten their name. But no, it’s just our way.
Why do I nod and smile, or at least smile? For one thing, I’m a Southern Gentleman, and for another I am acknowledging that upon making eye contact that you are a human being of worth and that I have no ill will toward you. I don’t know where you are from, your history, or anything about you, but for that moment we are two equals who share a clean slate with one another. It’s a greeting and agreement rolled into one meaning that I mean you no harm and I expect to receive the same treatment in return, not the smile and nod.
So if you are ever down South as they say and someone nods and smiles, then nod and smile back and venture onward. You didn’t forget their name and 99 times out of 100 they aren’t flirting…maybe.
There was a writing prompt on the Daily Post about, “What’s the one guilty pleasure you have that’s so good, you no longer feel guilty about it?”. It took a while because I don’t really have a lot of things I indulge in. My life is pretty simple in what I like and focus on.
But it occurred to me that there is one thing and that is letting my emotions and feelings flow in words. For a time I felt uncomfortable about what I was putting on the page because of what people might think, but in reality people think everything but just don’t like to acknowledge it. But I’ve come to embrace it. Those feelings and emotions make life out of life.
As a writer I think that I turned a corner when I embraced that guilty pleasure. Perhaps I am not a money making machine, but I am a satisfied word artist who when letting my mind and heart write together can turn a phrase that I never would have considered in the past.
In any form of writing the reader needs to feel your investment in the piece. I may obscure meaning when I write a poem or hide myself within a character but I know what is there and sometimes a person just clicks with it and they just say, “Yeah, that’s me.” I no longer use the word guilty with my emotional pleasures. They fuel my creativity.
Thank you to Active Army Wife for reminding me of the prompt as I read her guilty pleasure.c
Being a new blogger it may confuse one at times to see more ‘likes’ than ‘views’. And which ones do you really want? I don’t even have a gut feeling on it really because I see the advantage of both and that, I think can cause the confusion. Yeah, I’m a Gemini. I’m not into astrology but being that whole twin thing, I really fight myself by seeing both sides of a situation. So even my opinion below will likely disagree with the ‘experts’ and even myself.
‘Likes’ are a psychological hug or pat on the back for most of us. While ‘Views’ are the way our work gets seen. Some people just aren’t going to click Like for a number of reasons, but they will keep coming back to read what you have to offer and thus View your work.
Am I a pro blogger? I’m not a pro, whatever that really means in Blog World. But I have realized a great many things since I’ve been blogging.
These are just a few thoughts from someone who has gone through what a lot of new bloggers are going through now and even some veterans. We all share the same concerns about the numbers game, so don’t think you are the only one. Just keep doing it. Sure you want people to Like your work, but you really did this to share it so people could View it.
He half dragged himself across the street, shoulders sagging under the long coat. Two girls moved several steps away.
We exchanged nods and closed-mouthed smiles as he glanced my way. The bench shook slightly as he let himself drop. “It’s been a long day.” His voice sounded like it. “But we made it through.”
I nodded in agreement.
He saw the girls, phones out. One had a finger poised on her phone screen, the other talking to someone. They both kept glancing our way. He ran a hand over his head of short, tight curls. Nails perfectly trimmed, the skin smooth, smoother than mine even.
“You know what I need?”
I looked at him.
“I need me a woman. A young one.”
I could see the muscles around his mouth twitching. Looking forward, I could see the two girls out of the corner of my eye huddled together. I nodded my head in reply.
“Nothing like finding a young one. Sweeping them away. Training them up the way you want them.” He stared at the street.
The girls moved away. “Dr. Farra!” We both looked at the woman in floral printed scrubs racing across the street.
“Nancy?”
“Jerry is getting a taxi now. Get to the hospital. An elderly lady fell and hit her head and they called for you.”
Dr. Farra was no longer tired as he ran across the street.
The girls glanced at me and I smiled back. They turned away, ashamed at their thoughts. Shame can be a great lesson.
© 2014-2020 Ronovan Hester Copyright reserved. The author asserts his moral and legal rights over this work.
“I’m so glad you stayed last night.” Sheryl hooked her arm through the other woman’s.
“I would more often if your apartment was warmer. My bones can’t handle it.”
“The blankets made it okay though. It was such a surprise when you showed up with them.”
I saw Rebecca and Tony eying the two with raised eyebrows. Rebecca with a disapproving look, Tony one of interest.
“Yes, they did. But you really need to ask about it. That cold seems to seep through my skin more now. A few years ago and I would not have needed a blanket at all. Just your smile would have been enough. You need a younger friend.” There was obvious love in the woman’s eyes as she looked at Sheryl.
Sheryl returned the look and smiled. “Next time I’ll come uptown.”
“Deal.” The lady kissed Sheryl on the cheek. “And here’s my bus. Now be careful and if you have any trouble with the super about the heat, give your Dad and me a call. No one freezes our baby girl and gets away with it.” She pulled Sheryl’s coat lapels together.
“Mom, I can handle it. You be careful on the subway. You still have bruises on your butt from the last time when that guy pinched you.”
“Well, I can’t blame the guy for wanting to, just for doing it.”
“Mom!”
Glancing at Rebecca and Tony, I saw a tight-lipped Tony trying to stay quiet and not get punched by Rebecca. And a red-faced Rebecca staring at the ground, ashamed by her judgment of the situation. If it had been Sheryl’s father instead, there would have been other assumptions jumped. Never question love until it questions you.
© 2014-2020 Ronovan Hester Copyright reserved. The author asserts his moral and legal rights over this work.
Rod took his place on the bench as the bus pulled away. “What was that all about?”
I shook my head with a half-smile in reply.
“I don’t know how he lives through that day after day, man.” He looked at me for agreement. I raised an eyebrow.
“What? That was crazy. She’d drive me off my rock, man.” Rod was a college student wanting to be a journalist. He liked to bounce his observations off me. I could see his wheels turning as he tried to look outside his world box.
“I guess he didn’t seem upset or anything, the patience of a saint. I would have blown.”
I nodded to acknowledge I was listening.
“Rod!” We looked up as Rod’s friend Emerile jogged across the street.
“Real Erile,” They did the handshake thing began that I never could master.
“How is it my friend?”
“Fantastic, just talking ‘bout two oldies going back and forth.”
“You were necking it again? Need to stop all that, going to get that elastic head joint of yours chopped listening where it don’t belong.” Emerile smiled.
“Man, I’m good.”
“What you doing?”
“Nothing.”
“Good, we’re heading to Tippy’s.”
“Why?” Rod was tight with his money.
“Man, Tippy’s only sells one thing.”
“I know, but I’m good as is.”
“Serious? Man, their stuff makes everything else like 2001.” Emerile gets excited about things, talking with his entire body. Never stand next to him when he gets started.
“You get it then.”
“Go with me anyway. You ain’t got nothin’ else to do.”
“Man, I am the busiest man in town.” The bus pulled up. The doors closed behind them. Two lifelong friends going on about nothing. Didn’t matter what the age. Rod would never realize he was a back-and-forth guy himself.
© 2014-2020 Ronovan Hester Copyright reserved. The author asserts his moral and legal rights over this work.
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