Of All the Things to Call Me...

... is not a word that I would ever associate with my name. Those words should never meet in a sentence. Obviously, if you're an avid reader of my blog, you already know that I share the good, the bad, and the ugly of myself. A selfish person would only share the good side.

Recently, I called selfish due to my opinion of not seeing the reason to back track to easy lessons instead of moving on to the more difficult lessons to come. I would prefer to spend time on the things that are not self explanatory vs. the things that are common sense and easy to do if you pay attention. Apply yourself! That's all it would take to master the task at hand.

Call me a procrastinator. I would agree. As long as I don't have to be accountable to anyone else but myself for my actions or output of work, then I will make as many excuses as to why I didn't get the work done.

Call me lazy. I would agree at times I am. If you think about it how many of us hasn't been lazy one way or another.

Call me bossy. I would agree. If it has to do with my household running smoothly, then yes I am as bossy as they come. But you know what it works for the five people that lives under my roof.

Call me a loyalist. I would agree. I am very loyal to all relationships that I am a part of.

Call me a honest. I would agree. My whole family would agree. I don't sugar-coat anything. Everything I say I feel if I love you or care for you in anyway, then I should be honest and not put sugar on top of salt in an open wound. Makes no sense to lie to you or myself. I just don't operate that way. I respect those who can do the same to me. That's part of the reason why when I have my writing critiqued I'm not knocked out from the comments. It makes me a strong writer. In a way I'm preparing myself for the comments of those who will not like my writings. Everything is not for everyone and everyone is not going to like everything.

Call me all of the above, but never call me selfish because I'm far from it.

Listening to My Muse

This past weekend I revisited a story that I started writing a few years ago. I reread every word that I had written and remember it like it was yesterday. After reading and making a few minor changes, I went ahead and finished writing the story. It's a happy sad story. Even though it's one page too many, I wouldn't delete not even one word.

I guess I needed it to rest for a while before I did anything with it. I have a few others that have been waiting, some even long than the one I completed, and I believe now is the time to finish all the stories I started so that I can move on.

Have you been writing lately? Share a little with me.

Until next time happy writing and reading.

My Sister's Keeper

Since my kids have been away, my husband and I have been going to the movies a little more frequent than normal for us. It's as though there are quite a few movies that we both want to see, and there's still more to come before the year is over.

In fairness I will say I enjoyed them all. We've seen Pelham 123, Transformers 2: The Revenge of the Fallen, Public Enemies, and today we saw My Sister's Keeper.

My husband went because he wanted to take me to see My Sister's Keeper, not because he was forced. I like that he can watch the girly flicks with me and don't care who knows or sees him. But that's not what this is about.

I remember a few years ago when I saw Jodi Picoult's book in a book store, mostly Borders. I read the back cover and said this really sounds good. I didn't buy it. Over time everytime I saw it, I would do the same thing; pick it up, read the back, say it sounds good, and put it back. I finally bought it for twenty-five cents at my library. I still haven't had a chance to read it. But I did go see that movie.

I fought tears through most of the movie, because the entire family was suffering. I hurt for Kate. She was the sick sister. I hurt for Brian, the father, because he's the strong one. And truth be told he needed to be his daughter's protector; both of his daughters. Jesse, the brother, who tried to be the protector for his sisters while no one really saw him, except his sisters. I really felt the pain for Anna; the child born to be the saviour for Kate.

Most of all I cried for the turmoil Sara, the mother had to be going through. I can relate to her in a few too many ways. When my daughter was 3, she got really sick. And words like fine needle aspirations (FNA), CT scans, MRIs, dye injected into her veins, turmors, possibly cancer, I knew for sure I would die. I was pregnant with my second child when all of this started. In my head I kept saying I need to do whatever to save the child I have already held in my hands and loved.

Don't get me wrong. I love each and everyone of my 3 children, but when you're going through some thing like this, irrational thinking becomes rational no matter what. After I had my thired child I thought about getting my tubes tied, but I also still had in the back of my mind what ifshe gets sick again and none of us can save her. I would need to have another child to help her. I knew how Sara was feeling. Which parent wants to ever have to bury their child?

I watched other family members breakdown. I needed and was the strong one. I made a lot of the decisions. I slept in a very uncomfortable chair every nightfor two weeks while she was in the hospital. I was so stressed out that my doctor thought I would deliver early. I didn't, because God knew I needed to focus on my little girl.

After watching My Sister's Keeper, I realize I cannot make another child to save a child's life. That would be morally wrong. It's pretty much saying the only reason why you're here is because I need your body parts to save your sibling, otherwise who knows. The decisions we have to make as parents are so hard, but we need to take into account all those involved.

Go see the movie. It's good, and bring tissues.

I Used to Think...

I Used to Think…

I used to think that because I knew people in the publishing/writing business, I would be able to have the inside secrets. Boy was I wrong.

I asked someone I knew about how to find the proper agent to help get my writing out there and to this day I’ve gotten no answer from him.

For years I’ve been told that it’s who you know not what you know that will get you into the door of whatever business you are trying to get in. But that’s clearly not true. You have to know something and not someone.

I used to think that writing would be as easy as apple pie for me because my imagination runs wild but it isn’t as easy as it may look. Yes, I can come up with the stories and take criticism from friends, but I can’t seem to get pass the finished manuscript. I will admit I can’t write a query letter, I can’t write a synopsis and if I can’t do these things, I can’t get published.

I used to think self publishing would be best for me but when I asked someone about their company, a part of what’s required for her to consider publishing my book is the things I suck at doing. So now what?

I used to think the world would get to see my creativity but they won’t because it’s not easy. Now I wonder if writing is really for me.

I used to think I was a quitter, but I’m not so one day someone will help me without wondering what can I do for them, but simply because they want to help a friend succeed.

I can do this, I know I can, and so help me I don’t need to think about it anymore. Stop saying and start doing. Thoughts turned into actions. I used to think, I used to think, but not anymore. I will succeed. I will succeed. I will be seen and I don’t know what else to write on this subject.

Finally!!!

Normally, I try to find a picture to go with my post, but I'm finally able to exhale from the dramas of trying to get my website to be what I needed and wanted it to be.

I queried at least five web designers to help create my site. When they all asked for information and then never followed through, I was livid. What an absolute waste of my precious time. Then I was told that this woman was good. Not even! She did whatever to my already messed up site and collected her payment.

Finally, my hubby found someone smart and dependable to do my website. I have my jewelry and my blog all in one place. Let me just say he was a God sent.

Now that it's over I can relax and focus on other things.

Can't wait to post some more jewelry and my random ramblings.

Stay True to You

It's been quite some time since I've shared any of my stories or poems. As a treat I'm sharing one of my first stories I have ever written. I wrote this story when I was a senior in high school. Some of the characters had different names and the location was also different. But the message was the same. I rewrote it last year.

STAY TRUE TO YOU

Sean was a short pudgy girl with freckles all over her face. And having a boy's name didn't help her to make friends. Sean was walking down the long hallway to her math class, and there stood another girl with beautiful long jet black hair, her stylish clothes and thin as could be looking lost. Sean giggled to herself, because this girl is what her father would call a tall glass of water.

Sean walked up to her and said, "Hi! You look like someone who is lost. Are you new here? I am Sean." At first Sean didn't think she would say a word, but she did.

"Sean, is your name? That's a weird name for a girl. Who named you that and why? Oh never mind, you don't have to answer that. Is it that obvious that I am new? Oh, yea my name is Eve. I was looking for my math class. The teacher's name is Mr. Lee," said Eve as she moved her hair out of her face.

"What a coincidence I happen to be on my way there now. What middle school did you go to?" Sean asked. She couldn't recall ever seeing her before.

"Susan B. Anthony in New York," Eve said.

Sean was a chatter box; even though it didn't seem as if Eve wanted to talk Sean wanted to know more about this new girl. "Well, about my name, my father named me. And he won't admit it, but I think he was hoping for a boy. And since I am an only child, this is as close as he'll ever get. What was it like going to school in New York? Did you guys have to wear uniforms and stuff?"

"Oh no! Can you imagine? It wasn't that different. I just went to school later on, like in September not August. And we didn't have trailers. My school had different levels, I mean floors. You know I am not use to seeing schools with trailers," she said.

"So what made you stay here, instead of going back?" Sean asked.

"I just stayed to try something different. I had friends too," Eve said sadly.

"You don't have any friends yet?" She just shook her head. "Well you do now. I don't really have any friends here myself. And I was born and raised here. In order to be down you have to sell yourself short of nothing to be like them. You have to be a snob, egotistical, stuck-up person. It's just not worth it at all. I just never fitted in, and don't be surprise if you don't fit in either. Well, here's the room," Sean told Eve.

"Thanks for showing me the way."

"No problem it was on..."

"Excuse me ladies, if you are now done with your conversation, maybe you would like to join the rest of the class."

Sean began to explain, "Mr. Lee I'm sorry that we're late, but this is a new school for Eve."

"Okay, ladies, I'll let it slide this time. Believe me, there will not be another. Eve, which school did you go to before?" Mr. Lee said.

"I'm not from Georgia at all. I went to school in New York. I came to visit my grandmother for the summer and decided to stay. In New York, I went to a school called Susan B. Anthony," Eve answered.

After the class, Pat a girl that was so muscular at first glance you would think she was a boy. But make no mistake she was one of the meanest girls in the school. She wore her clothes just like the boys, over-sized and hanging off her medium built frame. Pat had five brothers so she had to be able to defend herself like them or they would beat her up.

Pat walked straight right up to Eve and said, "Well, well, well, what do we have here? I hope you don't plan on staying long. I can't stand Northerners."

"You do not know me, and I'm pretty sure I do not want to know you. You don't have to like me. I didn't ask to come to this school. I don't owe you no explanation or any of my time. Excuse me and let me go to my next class."

Sean heard Pat whisper to her cronies as they walked away. "Girls we need her. She has a mouth on her and that alone will keep people away from us."

After school Sean saw Eve heading for the school bus in the front of the school, "Eve wait-up. You said you live in the Crescent Subdivision, right?"

"Yes. Why?" she asked.

"I live in the same subdivision. I can sit with you on the bus, if you don't mind," said Sean.

"I guess it is fine," she mumbled.

When we got to the subdivision Sean walked with Eve to her house. "Would you like to come inside and meet my grandmother?" Eve asked.

"Certainly, I've probably seen her before," stated Sean. And inside they went.

"Sean, this is my grandmother Selena Nelson. Mama this is Sean. She's a girl from my math class."

"Miss Nelson I'm pleased to meet you. Your granddaughter has a lot to learn about choosing her friends. I mean she only asked me to show her to her to class, but there is a girl name Pat who has it in for her," said Sean.

"What's that suppose to mean?" questioned Eve.

"Oh nothing," Sean exclaimed. "You'll find out if you let her get to you."

"Nobody, absolutely no one can get to me. I don't let anyone play any type of mind games with my head. If..."

"Look, you don't have to take this so offensively. I was just making a statement, and giving you a warning. Well, any way I have to go."

"Tomorrow about what time does the bus arrive?" asked Eve

"Just about 7:30. I can meet you here at 7:15 and we can walk to the bus stop together," I told her.

"Great," said Eve.

About a week later, the changes started to occur. Eve was no longer upset by Pat and her gang. They all seemed so inseparable. Sean felt betrayed and knew this was going to happen, but not so soon. Sean thought it was up to her help Eve out of this mess. Sean decided to go and have a talk with Eve's grandmother.

One afternoon after school, Sean went over to Eve's house. She hoped that Eve would not be there as she walked up and rang the door bell.

"Hello, Miss Nelson. I need to talk to you about Eve. I think she's in trouble."

"Why would you think that?" Miss Nelson questioned with a puzzled look.

"She used to hang with me, but all of a sudden she stopped. She doesn't even remember who I am. Pat and her gang of people changed her."

"Sean, the person you are describing sounds nothing like my granddaughter," said Miss Nelson.

"I don't mean to say such bad things about Eve, but she doesn't even look the same. She dresses like them. It is as if she went through a whole changing process. Pat goes around starting trouble, so that Eve would take up for her. All I want you to do is try to talk to her. If you..."

"Young lady, hold it right there. I do not appreciate any insinuations that you are making about my granddaughter. Only a jealous person could come here and talk a story like yours. Eve has more friends than you and you lived here all your life so you're upset," Miss Nelson said angrily.

"Miss Nelson, don't you accuse me of anything. I just thought you'd like to know, that Eve was heading down a road of no good. Good night! I'm sorry for even wasting your time," said Sean as she headed for the front door.

One day Sean was sitting in the lunchroom, when she saw Eve. She decided now was the time to do what needed to be done. "Eve, Eve," Sean called out.

"What the do you want," asked Eve.

"Look, your attitude stinks. I tried to warn you about Pat, but you didn't listen. I told your grandmother, but..."

"Excuse me did I hear my name?" asked Pat.

Sean turned around to see Pat staring at her. All of a sudden all her buddies crowded around them. Before Sean knew it a fight broke out, and the next thing she knew she was waking up in a hospital bed.

"Sean, you have a visitor," the nurse said.

"Who is it?" Sean asked.

"It's me, Sean, Selena Nelson. I came with Eve to see how you are doing. Eve sent me in first to see if you wanted to talk to her," said Eve's grandmother.

"Tell her to come then," Sean said. Eve came in a few minutes later.

"Sean, the girl with the boy name, Never the less you are a girl that decided to be my friend without even knowing me. Thank you! My grandmother has told me not to change myself to make a friend, and to be proud of me. Instead, I hung my head and changed to please people. And the best friend I ever had got hurt in return. Do you even realize what happened?" asked Eve.

Sean turned her head towards the window and away from Eve. "Yea, I know exactly what happened. You and your friends almost beat me to death. All because I didn't mind my own business, that's what.

"No, you have it all wrong!" exclaimed Eve.

"Then why don't you explain it to me then," said Sean.

"I know you have no reason to believe me, but I didn't know that this was going to happen. When I finally realize what was going on, I fought Pat and her gang. When Pat's friend Sheila hit you from the back with one of the trays, I just lost it. I never wanted you to get hurt," Eve said.

"If you had just listened to me, this would not have happened. Why didn't you listen?" questioned Sean.

"Well I told the cops what happened, and Pat and Sheila were arrested for what they did to you. Needless to say my parents want me to come back to New York. So as soon as the police are done with me I am leaving for good. Please forgive me. Good-bye, Sean. I will never forget you," Eve said and turned away.

As Eve was leaving, Sean called out her name. "Hey Eve, I forgive you, please don't leave."

But Eve never looked back.

Reflecting on My Words

Tonight, on Twitter, I made a comment about being consistent with my writing as I am with my reading. That got a response from someone I think to be my mentor, teacher, friend, and editor (when I have something for her to edit).

Her words:

It's about deciding your words are more important than the ones you read from others.

I needed to assess myself. So here I am assessing.

My writing is convoluted. Many things I write about has a little too much of my personal experiences in it. Do I really want anyone reading my words and getting the fiction and reality mixed up and feeling torn? I don't know.

Failure! I am afraid of failure. Always have been. I'm told by many that I am a perfectionist. The more I think about it, the more I realize I am. I cannot get bad grades (for me a bad grade is lower than an A), but I encourage others that Bs are good. Seriously! I got a B in my Writing Analysis and Communications call and I was shocked. I wondered was writing what I should be doing because I didn't make the grade. The professor told me getting a B in an English class is a good thing and I should be proud. Really? I can't be magna cum laude with a B; so now I have to settle for suma cum laude. I don't like settling. As many publishers as there is out in the writing world, will I ever find one that will say I create the type of stories that they are looking for? I don't know.

Many people don't know that I can sing. Though everyone may not think I sound as good as I believe and some others believe, I can sing. Hey not everyone thinks Whitney or Maxwell is that great a singer, but they are to me. What does this have to do with writing? I hide my talents because I'm afraid of not succeeding. Am I trying to be a millionaire? Not in this lifetime. But I do have stories that I think people besides my mother (my biggest fan; I think it's because I'm her daughter, but she may say otherwise) would like. And of course I know the hecklers and bad reviews will always be out there. I'm just afraid I will never get them out there before I go home to Glory. I don't want to be one of those writers that is discovered after they die. I want to be able to discuss my characters and their flaws with others. I want to hear the good, bad, and outright ugly.

That won't happen until I make the necessary, required, needed time and effort to get my stories out of my head. Now I need a plan. I have assessed myself and realized yes I want to share my stories. But that cannot happen if I don't first write them. Next step is to come up with a game plan. I will share once I workout the details. If you have any suggestions do share.

The image above is by Xxicons_4uxX.