Hanging on a Nail

 

Sometimes I wonder how I became me, but then I remind myself how I was raised by parents from two different worlds. My mother was raised on a small farm in a one-bedroom house, with five brothers & sisters. Her parent were Quakers. They were kind, quiet, and peaceful, with little motivation to succeed beyond survival.

On the other hand, my father was born in an apartment above a pool hall, bar, and liquor store his parents managed. My father's dad, Em, was an entrepreneur and an ass-kicker from the get-go. He was a wheeler-dealer and did well financially.

Gram was quieter and, unlike Em, refrained from profanities. However, it was best not to get in her way, especially if she was riding her horse.

And my young life was totally different from my three siblings due to Polio. I spent several years in hospitals and therapy, away from my family.

I will share a few life experiences in my blog, plus writing tips, short stories, photos of beautiful places, including Sedona, 

where I now live, and maybe share an easy recipe as I dislike cooking. Sorry, I feel it's a waste of time when I could be doing something more exciting and long-lasting.  

As a child, I loved to climb.  My first climbing memories were of circling all the rooms in a house without touching the floor.

 I climbed up the sides of doors by placing one foot on each side of the doorway and straddling upward.

Climbing Doors

 One would usually find me on top of cupboards, cabinets, and even refrigerators. In my mind, snakes, or alligators crawled in masses below. 

    A kind uncle once said to me, "You never learned to walk."

    Indignant, even at two, I said, "Es, I did."

    "Nope," he said. "You only learned to run or climb."

 

Mystical Journey of Writing & Are you in my Novel?

Writing is a mystical journey. 

Whether I’m at the post office, a parade, shopping, visiting family or friends, I’m constantly watching, observing and taking notes in my mind. Writers often say, “Be careful, you may end up in my novel.” There is a bit of truth in that statement, but my characters are created completely in my mind. 

The true writer is more of a medium. They are like a conduit for the people they write about. My characters speak through me, using my voice, my body, my mind, to tell their story. They may have a few traits, habits or actions of people I’ve met in my life, but they are never the same as anyone I’ve ever known.

“Draw your chair up close to the edge of the precipice 

                            and I'll tell you a story.”  
                               F. Scott Fitzgerald

I've had a few people that are certain that some of the characters are based on them. That’s not true, but it is possible that they can see parts of their personalities or traits in one of my characters. And I’m sure there are bits of me in some of them too. 

Visions of Evil has settings in several places that are near where I’ve lived or visited in the past. The Nebraska ranch, the Denver area, San Diego and Sedona. Jake Tansey, is a sick creep, that unfortunately, I’ve know different sides of him in real life. The main story line for him, however, was taken from a true crime between Del Mar and La Jolla, CA. I couldn’t have made that part up.      

I've always been enthralled by the settlers who came west in the 1800’s or before. It was a tough trip and a rough life even after they reached their destination. And women, especially, were pitted against great odds. I hope when you read Visions of Evil, you will see the underlying strength in Pearl, Lulu and the others. Did their particularly hell really happen? Yes, the characters told me it did.

Visions of Rodeo, my next novel, is another story of a survival. The characters have told me their tale, both male and female. Ty is a jewel of a man who suffered terrible consequences. Rodeo, begins as a vulnerable, sweet teen and then her life, as she known it, is changed forever. I’m blessed that these two characters were channeled into 
                                          my mind. They now feel like friends.  

There are shades of truth in every novel/story, but not necessarily my truths. The thoughts and ideas, observations, come from minds of people who are often very different from me. I can’t take responsibility for them.    “Fiction is the truth inside the lie.” ― Stephen King

Once I had someone contact me stating that one of my stories was critical of the physically challenged. I never understood that comment. What do readers bring to the reading of my novels and short stories? I’ll never know, but I believe whatever it is, influences their interpretation of what they read, differently from others.

I try to keep my mind and heart open to all my characters. Yes, even the awful ones. But ultimately, they are responsible for themselves. Of course, some of my beliefs, inspirations, observations, memories, my research and knowledge, are weaved into the pages, but what I write is not all from me. And that’s the truth about all fiction.  

Of course it might still happen that someone thinks a certain character might be about them. The name starts with the same letter as their own name, they drive the same car, talk or walk the same way. These are simple coincidences. Really! 

Except you. Yes, you. You know who you are. You're going to be so sorry for the things you once said, the things you never did.  And the whole world is going to read about it. I'm kidding!    Then again...

Physically Challenged and Successful

     Recently, we went to a local restaurant that sets near a channel to Lake Michigan. The restaurant has an ambient atmosphere with fresco seating. The inviting soft- breezes whisper to you there.     

     A   friendly, attractive young lady served our table with a smile and grace. When she walked away and down steps to a lower level, I noticed she limped.

      Later, when she returned with our beverages I observed her flesh-colored prosthetic leg. She wasn’t trying to hide it, as she had on a pair of shorts accompanied with the restaurants logo t-shirt. We hadn't noticed her disability, because of her self-confidence and attitude. 
       In the United States there are 45 million Physically Challenged people over the age of five.  This is the largest minority group in America and only 15 million are 65 or older.

      I've been around people who are physically challenged all my life. Mainly due to having polio as a child which left me paralyzed on my right side. After years of intense therapy and numerous surgeries, I maneuver  almost "normal." During this time, I was surrounded by other crippled children and adults. It became the norm for me. 

      And I was blessed to have a close relationship with a cousin whose spinal cord was severed at T1 in a vehicle accident. Jack, a cowboy, stayed active even with his disability, but he did fight depression. For years he ran a large cattle ranch, throwing himself in and out of his hand-controlled pick-up, from his wheelchair. He was my hero, but when he grew older he turned to alcohol to dull his pain from declining health.   

      A good friend in Arizona had a spinal cord injury at T10 when she was eighteen years old. She is an enterprising person and never gives up on living a happy and inspirational life. A few years ago, she started The Annabel Inn, a Bed and Breakfast, in Cottonwood, AZ. It has a French atmosphere and is quite successful. She has plans to expand. Annabel writes articles for newspapers, and has written several novels. Many able bodied people can’t keep up with this lady. She is one of my heroes. 

      Of course, there are physical challenged people that hole up in their houses, do nothing for themselves, refuse to learn a new trade and waste away. How sad.

      In Sedona, I know a man who has a spinal disease. He can only move his arms and is slowing losing that ability. He works from his home for a large drugstore chain writing programs for their systems and constantly updating their files. He earns over $100K a year.

      Down the street from him, able-bodied men ask for hand-outs.  Why?

      A good friend of mine, started a travel business for physically challenged people after she lost a leg to cancer in her mid-40's. After the amputation, her husband left her, stating he couldn't live with a person who was incomplete. 

       Carroll never allowed her disability stop her from living a productive and positive existence. For a time she moved to Alaska to experience a different kind of life. 
      Many able-bodied people fear leaving the areas where they were born, wilting away doing the same things, riding their limited "Merry-Go-Round" of life, forever.   
     Carroll died at the age of 65 from heart disease. Her kindness, support and uplifting spirit, inspires me to this day.
     I will continue to surround myself with people who are supportive, productive, positive and inspiring. It's not healthy to have the negative, "Oh, woe is me's," or the "Naysayers,"  in your life.   
     When I became a successful author, a family member remarked, "How silly is that? Everyone I know thinks they can write."  It stunned me at the time, but now I understand that negativity. 
     I believe many of these people can't stand to see anyone happy or successful.   They want to bring you down to their pitiful existence of life, into their hell. A life that they have created or settled into. 
     It reminds me of the "Crabs In the Bucket," story. When a single crab is put into a lidless bucket, they surely can and will escape. However, when more than one share a bucket, none can get out. If one crab elevates themselves above all, the others will grab this crab and drag'em back down to share the mutual fate of the rest of the group. 
     I'm sure you all know a Hero who is Physically or Mentally Challenged. Tell them how they inspire you and congratulate them on doing their best with what life has delt them.