So Humbly Yours...

You can put this entire summer in the can

and seal it up because I am over it.

After clumsily falling

or face planting myself into cement

literally making my right arm

totally useless and creating a fog of incredible pain

I finally have full range of my arm

though it still needs therapy to build up the muscles.

I remember my sister having a cast

on her leg after falling off a horse

and laughing because when it came off her leg

was spindly compared to the other.

I know my bad.

So being unable to do anything of significance

eight weeks of healing

pinched a nerve in my back or hip or somewhere

which defined pain that surpassed

the arm...like it went out the hatch pain

like I started to talk to God again pain

giving small tokens to any god who exists in

fantasy or sci-fi stories.

I couldn't walk...I couldn't stand for more than a moment

and frankly I was beyond mad at the world

because I hate pain.

Am I better...a little...I can at least start to stretch

by touching my toes and other stretches

and though I should not be so snarky

I have learned that there is a difference between

mental snarky and pain 'oh my God' snarky.

To those in constant pain...

I am so sorry.

Sorry that there is nothing that exists to lift

the pain that wears you down like a drip in the dirt

leaving a deep hole.

I am sorry that our bodies are not easy

to fix or to understand.

I want a machine that gives you 3-D view of everything

in your body...like a robot.

So I am humbly yours...missing the summer

and working toward taking control

of my own self.

barb

The Setting In Story

Let us put aside the characters for just a moment and look at what is the backdrop.

Backdrop:

The time frame of your story

The place of your story

The temperature of the world affecting your story

The weather

Research is something that is both important and not so much

but I find that understanding that moment in time

putting yourself in the 'timeframe' of the social graces and

the political fever.

Once you are comfortable with knowing your backdrop

you can start outlining your story line.

There should always be rocky roads that work

against you, misdirection and treachery.  All of these can be

blatantly or just under consciousness.

You have to weave history with your story but like

describing the weather you need to do it with the interactions of your characters.

The most important part of a story is the characters.

Paint them with a full palette but don't over paint them.  Don't

wear down your reader by telling them the same thing over and over

but by having your characters capable of embracing

the backdrop, embracing the dangers and rocky roads with succulent

human reactions in real time.

Know your history, know your time

know the minute details of society and then form your characters.

Writing is difficult, avoiding cliques is important but keep your backdrop

simple and concise

and your characters as rich as a triple layer chocolate cake.

Fall in love with your characters

Invite them to your screen and into your world.

barb 

Ghost Stories Within My Heart

We all cheer on the heroine

urging her to overcome adversity

so sweet...so very, very likeable

that we reach into the pages

pushing her toward success and happiness.

It is the morally reprehensible

the lack of character

the rise of your pernicious side

that should garner your sharp eye

for a story must have evil to understand good.

The antagonist

against what the protagonist must surely,

as does the rain fall, contend

a battle of sorts in heaven or on earth

rises from the depths of our living hell.

Bells chiming from the fallen church

through the graveyard

on that ultimately moonless night

there rises the bone chilling fear

everything antagonistic.

Paint your evil

with the blackest of hearts and souls

pulling the strings of dramatic breath of conflict

for he is as vital to a story

as the sweetest of heroines.

barb

Intimancy or Love?

We don't ever go there...not in our polite conversations

Not with our closest confidants

And strangers may not take it in the manner it was given

We don't ever go there because it became taboo.

Somewhere along the timeline

From the caveman who was really quite rude

To the romantic era where poetry was at the height of entertainment

We don't ever go there because of the moral box.

Love is merely a name of that which makes us happy

A word used with our unbridled pleasure

Roses growing wildly or in a row emitting aroma so sweet

That the ripe strawberry imitates with the tongue.

We don't ever go there and when it wanes with time

A thief like a black cat takes our energy

Dripping the passion along the wooden floor at night

A loss so subtle we rarely mourn.

Intimacy is the acknowledgment of a physical need

Renewal of our self-discovery of the wild creature

Who roams the earth in forgotten dreams

We don't ever go there to capture it once it is stolen.

Softly it leaks from our souls without a sound

We feel its departure but rarely fight to renew our intimacy

Our love of our physical reaction

Dies like the rose budding on the vine.

Love or Intimacy or Intimacy or Love?

Choosing one over the other is not necessary

We don't ever go there, we don't ever say "I live for Intimacy"

But you should...nothing in life renews your soul

like raw physical intimacy.

barb

It's Just Depression

Sometimes I wander

late into the darkness of my life

pushing aside that niggle voice

considered my better side.

For there in the dark

beats the heart of misery

I can hear the blood pulse rhythmically

a siren upon the crashing waves.

A struggle on cat paws

I push away from my strength

letting go with abandonment

as it pulls me further under into its bosom.

I don't resist

for my experience, my history

based on denial in the whispers of the night

are sordidly in vain.

A short ride in the dark

I let go embracing wave after wave

of self-depreciation

knowing I shall return once I am through.

Once I know

that nothing lasts and nothing is bad

it is just me refocusing

shedding all that makes me sad.

barb

13th Book now on Amazon

My 13th Novel on Amazon Kindle and Softbound

Abigail Thompson was born on the Christmas morning after the end

of the Civil War.  The only daughter in a family of sons,

Abigail was raised with the same spunk and curiosity but somewhere in her

makeup is her love to uncover the reason behind

the things around her.  Turning away from the customs and expectations

of young women, Abigail wishes to make her own

rules and way through life and to do it without support from

her parents.

Blue Notes From Afar finds Abigail spending the summer in

Cardiff, Wales with her grandparents following the completion of her education

in London.  Enjoying the quiet, enjoyable days along

the coastline, she is unexpectedly drawn from her writing and books by the arrival

of a blue note questioning the identity of her father.  A mystery that is unexpected,

anonymous and cruel but one she will not accept as she finds

herself in the midst of a new awakening. 

Blue Notes From Afar

Writing Injuries?

After a wonderful faceplant three weeks ago, I have been unable to work on my art or even sit with the laptop and write.  It has reduced me to using the tablet to stay in touch with that big world out there.

My new book, Blue Notes From Afar, is sitting in the "can" waiting to be released.  In the meantime, I am on my fifth book [reading not writing] so I am being productive.  Or at least I am convincing myself that I am.  My arm which is still healing is about 70% healed with the upper arm and shoulder still hurting.  I have a great respect for those with disabilities and their resolve to overcome the challenges.  I can say that I am doing quite well eating with my left hand to the point I will continue it because [a] I eat slower and [b] I find it interesting that I have ignored my left side.

Blue Notes From Afar is naturally a romance story.  The main character, Abigail Thompson, is the daughter of Josie Younger of When The West Is Over.  I have set her down in Great Britain and more particularly in a small seaside town of Cardiff in Wales in the summer 1886.  What should be an enjoyable summer in the country with her grandparents and best friend before she returns to Tennessee turns into a chaotic summer where she is unwittingly dragged into broiling relationships and deceit.

Hopefully, I shall be back to normal soon.  I have a large art show coming up in a few weeks and don't know if I will be able to finish a few major pieces but right now I am trying to find a recipe for Hoagie Rolls since I have four art students coming over on Wednesday for Meatball Subs and great conversation about art.

Barb