Eight Credits

Eight Credits… that is all it will take for me to get my Associate of Science and Associate of Arts.

This comes as a relief to me, as I realize all those loans I took out when I was young and stupid might not be in vain.

Eight Credits closer to my dream of becoming and English Major. It has always been my dream, since I was in first grade. I dream of not only writing, but teaching others about fiction and literature. I would love to be a professor and help others achieve a dream, that I had all but given up. Until I found out how close I am, to taking another step toward that goal.

On the way to the college campus, I prayed to God, asking for his guidance. Then, the thought of my Grandfather pops into my head, and I clearly hear him say. “Chris, just do what you love.”

That was all the conformation and guidance I needed.

 

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Meditation from a Bar Stool

As I sat alone at the bar, waiting for the people from my high school graduating class to arrive, I observed others and sipped my drink quietly. Two hours and two drinks later, and some really good food, I was still sitting there alone. The people that RSVP’ed never showed and I realized many several things. The most important lesson this taught me, is I am so very lucky.

I phoned my husband, told him that the whole class reunion thing is a joke. We had a good laugh about it, and I asked if he wanted me to get carry outs for him and our Son. Of course he said, “Yes.” I placed the order, then waited for the carryout. As I was waiting I saw most of the men were my husbands age, watching the ball game with there buddies, trying to hit on and pick up women who were my age, or a bit younger. There was one man I observed, that looked to be 55-60 years of age bragging about some young girl that was barley legal that he took home the night before. I have not idea if this was true or not, but never the less entertaining.

The bar scene that looked so good in my early twenties didn’t really appeal to me any longer. Quickly approaching thirty, I wondered why so many people my age still do this. Then it hit me. Some of them are not as lucky. They don’t have a husband and a wonderful little boy to come home to. Most people put careers and money above people.

It was probably one of the reasons no one showed. To busy because of work. To busy hanging out with their friends at a local bar. Maybe people cannot afford to get dinner or drinks, or simply put… people just don’t give a shit.

The carry out arrived, and I settled up with the bartender, and called my family to let them know I love them, I would be home soon.

Random thoughts from this experience: 

If your forty, and hanging out at a bar every night… trying to “pick up a young chick,” watch out. You might get more than you bargain for.

You can only depend on family, and a few good friends. That is the truth.

RSVP’s… I don’t really think people in my generation understand what that means.

People are so inconsiderate.

People just don’t care.

People don’t give a shit.

I’m glad I am not one of those people.

I can’t believe people actually wanted me to rent a room for this thing. I’m glad I didn’t, because I would have had a huge bill.

I am never putting a class reunion together again.

Thank God I can make time for people and I am never too busy for friends or for family.

All this from the corner of a bar stool…

 

The Magic of a Book

Yesterday -my family and I- we went to the bookstore.

I live for small moments like this… seeing the look of pure joy and satisfaction on my Son’s face, when he discovers the magic found, within the pages of good book.

He takes off running, towards the storefront of the local Barnes and Noble-and then practically runs towards the escalator.

The second story, holds many magical worlds within the pages- just waiting to be discovered.

My Son takes off running, as he reaches the top of the escalator. He sees the brightly colored children’s section…and begins pulling books off the shelves.

He says, “I want to read this one…and this one…I want to read all of them!”

My Husband and I, know how he feels. Between the two of us, we have amassed a small library. We have a room in our house, dedicated to books and music.

Many years later… I find, I still have the same enthusiasm of a small child; whenever I enter a book store, and hold a book in my hand.

I know that one day, my Son will be too old for me to cuddle and read books to him. (That day is soon approaching. He already can read simple words and prefers, to read simple books all by himself.) But, I hope he never forgets the feeling of finding magic and discovering new worlds, all within the pages of a good book.

Perpetual Motion

Cynthia Day had a lot on her mind. Doctors had found a vascular malformation in her brain.

Doctors told her it was nothing to worry about. In the back of her mind she did worry. Her Grandfather had the exact vascular formation in his posterior fossa, and she wondered if this was the cause of his dementia.

She could relate better to her Grandfather than most people. Some days she was so dizzy and confused, she could not drive. Other days, she heard a horrible whooshing noise in her ears. She had migraines that caused visual disturbances. Then often neck pain that made her unable to move her neck, weakness in her arms and legs often followed along with tingling sensations.

Doctors told her it was nothing to worry about, a vestibular disorder. However, in light of the recent circumstances she wasn’t so sure that they gave her the correct diagnosis.

At night it got worse, and she couldn’t sleep. She suffered from insomnia. She wondered if her Grandfathers experiences were somewhat similar.

Her Grandfather was sitting at the edge of the bed, unable to button his shirt. She saw the frustration, and understood what he was going through. It was only last week, that Cynthia was unable to do the same task.

“I’m so sorry you have to see me like this. You shouldn’t have to see me like this, Cynthia.”

“Grandpa, you would be surprised to know, that I know exactly what you feel,” she said as she gave him a hug. “You and me- we are going to get through this together.”

“Don’t you worry about me. You just take care of your family and yourself.”

“There are days I cannot even do that,” Cynthia said.

“You’ll be fine, you always have been,” her Grandfather said, patting her knee.

Cynthia knew that she had to be fine, because there was no other choice.

On the way home Cynthia had to pull over. The world around her looked as if it was in perpetual motion, yet again. She called her husband crying, to come pick her along with their baby.

What the hell is wrong with me? She thought to herself -as she laid her head and hands on the steering wheel-  trying anything, to get the world around her to stop swaying back and forth, like she was on a cruise ship.

A Portrait of Dementia

Cynthia Day held her Grandfather’s hand as he spoke. She knew that he would one day forget her name, or that they even had this conversation.

“I am just going to enjoy this moment as long as I can,” her Grandfather said.

“Me too. Grandpa, I love you.”

“I love you so much too, dear girl. Now you make sure you take good care of your family and that child of yours.”

“I will Grandpa.”

“I’m so glad to be a part of this family,” he said.

Cynthia’s Grandfather was having more bad days, and the few moments of clarity that he had she cherished. The good days would become fewer as his disease advanced. It was something that she and her Grandfather understood.

Cynthia and her family sang one last song together, as she played the guitar. Her Grandfather sang “Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star, “along with the family- one of the few songs her Grandfather still remembered. He had a twinkle in his eye, as he watched his Great-Grandson sing along with him. For once everything seemed perfect, as if he was re-living his youth, back in time singing songs with his own children.

That day when Cynthia’s parents took her Grandfather back to the nursing home, he had tears in his eyes. She tried to hold back her tears because she knew she had to be strong for her Grandfather- who at times became scared on the bad days, because he didn’t understand who or where he was.

There would be bad days. But today, was a good day.

So, that day- Cynthia decided to live in the moment, because it was never guaranteed.

Audition

She walked onto the stage, as the casting director called her name. You could see the whole world in her eyes, if only you would look into them for a minute. Her eyes glistened and you could almost see the pain in her eyes, bind  the tears. It was what had brought her to this moment.

Under the stage lights, she stood there silently, staring at the back of the room.

“You may now begin your monologue,” the director said as he took out his pen, clipboard and paper.

She began, “You see…” she started to say as she motioned over to a black box, that was part of a prop “…life is like this box. Whatever you put into this box becomes your life. My life is filled with boxes like this one. Secrets, things that I tried to bury. But I couldn’t bury this one.

My Brother filled his life with more boxes than most and it was just yesterday, I buried him. I don’t want to live my life like that. All the pieces of me buried in a cold dark box, six feet under the ground. So that is why I am here.

I have no monologue, but that of my own. Here I stand in front of you. I refuse to bury my secrets and stand here on this stage, offering all that I have- what is in my heart.” She turned her head, and a single tear ran down her face.

This was the eleventh audition she had attended this week. She was hoping for a break. Anything this week of all weeks. So she decided not to preform a monologue someone else had written, but something of her own. She wanted to share all these things in her heart, however the world was just not ready for Cynthia Day. At least, not yet anyway.

“Next!” The director said.

As she walked off the stage Cynthia whispered, ” You have not seen the last of me yet.”

Candlewick Falls fans- This is for you.

I am currently working on a totally immersive and interactive blog for the Candlewick Falls. I will be busy creating, https://candlewickfalls.wordpress.com/ the next couple of days.

In this blog- you will find out what happened to Taya. The website will also introduce you to the history and mythology of the town, so that you have a better understanding of the strange things that occur in the town. I will also be writing some short stories, that are about the town. I would like this series to be a fully immersive and interactive experience.

I will continue to maintain this blog, and share with you all the journey of self-publishing.

An update on the print books:

The Book Journal has been formatted properly. It looks good on CreateSpace viewer. I hope it looks just as in print. I will be working on updating the Large Print copy of  Unspoken words tomorrow. I will be ordering the proofs tomorrow night, and I hope to have the files approved next week. As soon as they are available, I will let you all know.

 

Book Release Day is Here!

I am so excited! It’s February 1, 1017 and My debut book Unspoken Words is now available in e-book format on Amazon. Included below is a book trailer, available to watch on YouTube. In the description, under the video- are links to my Amazon Author page, and Goodreads page.

Unspoken Words is free for Amazon Prime members and people who subscribe to the Kindle Unlimited program. If you have neither of those, it is $2.99. The print version should be available for purchase on Amazon,  at the end of next week.