Island Hopping

This journey started with expectant excitement. I was promised good things to see and do, not only on the way, but at our destination. Now I sit shipwrecked. Alone, on a tiny piece of land in the middle of nowhere. I have to ask, is this what I signed up for?

I can’t drink the water. It’s salty. The lone palm tree has no fruit to drop. The sun shines but I cannot feel its warmth. Skin is burned and I chill. Air is hiding, no breeze to dry my tear drenched face. No companionship, no soft bed, no music to sooth my battered soul. Sand, sea, sun and one tree my only view.

Alone, with unmet needs, broken hopes and crushing disappointment. Is this all there is to life?

I survey my surroundings. The whirring of panic fills me. Will they come find me? Is anyone even looking? How long can I live like this, smothered with a lifetime of broken promises? I had so many hopes, so many dreams. Will they ever come to pass? Am I looking too close at the now instead of fixing upon the future? How long must one wait for the future to arrive? At what point do you just admit defeat and give up?

I am not a coward, nor a quitter, yet the wait is long. Day after endless day I wait and watch, hope and dream. Nothing changes. Not the things I am most looking for anyway. Not those deep buried needs met, those dreams so big they can terrify. No knight in shining armor to sweep me off my feet and make everything okay. This hard place, this is not the fun filled cruise I expected.

I can strike out on my own and try swimming to safety, but which way do I go? How far to the next oasis? How far can I push this aging flesh? Will I ever find what I need, what I seek? Are there any guarantees in this life? Am I ready to risk death and destruction on a maybe I can make it? What are my choices here?

The sun rises high and I relax in a brief moment of shade. Clouds dot the horizon. I’m thirsty. Rain is coming. The wind begins to blow, blessed relief. A wave splashes high and throws a fish onto my tiny dot of sand. I must eat it raw, but it’s food. Interesting how this happens, when I’m at my most desperate, when I think I cannot continue on one more day, grace comes.

I stop and look around. What, in the midst of my darkest hour, can I be grateful for? What good can I find amid despair?

I’m still breathing, for one. Food and water do come. Shade, every day. Stars at night to gaze upon. Sun sparkling upon dancing waves. Ever changing colors of the sea. Warmth and light. Peace filled surroundings. Eyes to see. Hope. If I’m still alive, there is a purpose, there is a reason.

Will I ever see my heart’s desires? Will I ever experience deep held dreams? I don’t know. Only my life’s end will tell the whole story, but today, today I must choose. Either hold on to the dream or let go, believe or give up. Let faith fill my soul one more time, or give in to despondency and fear.

I take a deep breath, feel the freshness of sea misted air. I choose hope one more time. I choose to trust, to believe. When will my salvation come? I don’t know, but until then, I hope.

Are We What We Read? by J Vincent

After pondering what book helped me most as a writer or a person I drew a blank. Not exactly a blank, just not a SINGLE book but many. I’m not sure what stories were read to me as a child, perhaps none were since I was number three and my mother not only had all the household chores but milking and feeding cattle, working in fields etc. But a love of reading was instilled and there were always books and magazines available.

I remember my eighth grade teacher opening the world to me by bringing a different collection of books from the public library to our small rural school each month. At about the same time I discovered my father’s stash of western books and magazines with serial stories and short stories. I have never figured out why he thought we needed to be protected from them as I don’t recall anything graphic or lurid. I found excitement and adventure and another whole world for my imagination.

In high school I devoured Reader’s Digest Condensed books. They were eagerly awaited at our home and we vied for turns at them. Today I marvel at how well those books were abridged and at what a broad spectrum of literature they offered. There were classics and modern tales like Pearle Buck’s The Good Earth and Harper Lee’s To Kill a Mockingbird.

Romances, more specifically historical and regencies which I write, didn’t come my way until I was busy raising a family. The couple of hundred that my sister loaned me could aptly be termed as Reese said, The Good, The Bad, and The Ugly. But they too, opened a new world to my imagination. Not only opened it but fostered characters and story lines which resulted in my turning to writing and being published.

Which set of books helped me most? All taught me vocabulary and grammar, even indirectly what not to do. How to plot and build suspense were in them too, as well as character development. All contributed to a life long and continuing hunger for the written word in fiction and nonfiction. So I quote Reese who said it very well a couple of days ago, “So today if you ask what books influenced me, I’d have to say ALL OF THEM. The Good, the Bad and the Ugly. I learn something from all of them.”

Me? Myself? I? (Penny Rader)

bit.ly/Tdg3ud

Earlier this month Pat challenged us with tough questions to ask ourselves.  I'm struggling to come with answers.  Here's what I've got so far.  Maybe you can help me come up with some answers.  Funny how easy it for the negative thoughts to take over.

What is your value?

The voices of the bullies in my past immediately chime in, "Value?  You have no value!  You're fat.  You're ugly.  No one wants to be your friend."   Could also be the Catholic in me.    You know, thou shalt not, the Seven Deadlies, and all that jazz.

So...I try to shove those voices aside and figure out what my value is.

Still thinking.   Could use a Penny version of It’s a Wonderful Life about now to see if anyone’s better off for my having been here. (Surely I'm not the only one who as wondered this.)


Okay.  Here are a few:

• My kids.  They brighten this world, and their kids in turn.
• I have kept a roof over my family's head for a number of years now.
• I like sharing information with others.   
• I can sometimes make people laugh and, hopefully, cheer them up for a bit.  

What is your strength? 

Aye-yi-yi.   This is as nearly as hard as the value question.

• Patience?  The ability to wait without fidgeting…much.
• I used to think I could get along with nearly everyone but I’ve been proven wrong.  Still, I try.
• I also try to have a positive attitude.
• I can talk your ear off…which can be good if you’re in need of a distraction.

What do you enjoy?

This one’s easy:

• Naps
• Reading 
• Movies
• TV
• Crocheting
• Learning
• Laughing
• Lazy days off
• Cuddling with babies

What is your passion? 

• I love losing myself in stories…movies, books, etc. 
• I also want to make a difference.   I've been crocheting up a storm the last several years.  The feel of the yarn in my hands soothes me; the completed scarves and hats fill me with a sense of accomplishment…I hope they find their way to someone in need of their warmth and comfort. 

What is your weakness?

Another easy question.   Shouldn't that be plural?

In no particular order:

• Procrastination – I am a pro at this.  
• Getting words on the page – I am not a pro at this.
• Fear...of falling flat on my face ...of the words not coming ...of characters not talking to each other, let alone me; fear of failing my kids, my family, my friends, my bosses.
• I rarely (as in almost never) cook anymore.
• I am an exceptionally bad housekeeper.
• Organized…Not!
• Laziness...lack of energy...just flat out not feeling 'good' for more years than I can count.
• People pleaser – hate, hate, hate conflict.  Want everyone happy and in harmony.
• In a crisis, all the energy leaves my body and I feel an overwhelming need for a nap. Or a dark hole somewhere.  Maybe even a nap in the dark hole.
• Consistently inconsistent.  This post is a perfect example.  
• Did I mention I can talk your ear off?  

Oh, do you hear her?  Violet, the Dowager Countess on Downton Abbey just said, “Stop whining…”  So I shall.
~~~~
How about you?  Can you answer Pat’s questions?  I’d love to learn more about you.

Patricia Davids, flaws and all.

I told you earlier this month that I would post my answers to the questions I posed to you. After some soul searching, here I go.

Question # 1. What is your value?

 I have value as a mother, a grandmother and the daughter of aging parents. My value outside my family lies in being a caregiver and a writer. I also have value as a good neighbor, a teacher and mentor for people who want to become writers. I take my value seriously.

 Question # 2. What is your strength?

I have a huge dose of self-confidence. My real strength is that I believe in me. In my talent, in my ability to master whatever I put my mind to, be it writing, remodeling the house or teaching the dog new tricks. People who know me may say stubbornness and persistence are my strengths. I can't disagree.

Question # 3. What do you enjoy? The answers to this question are just about endless. I enjoy spending time with my family and friends. I enjoy traveling and seeing places I've only read about, I enjoy learning new things. For me, doing research is like a sunny day in the park with homemade ice cream in a cone. Not much gets better than that. I enjoy stretching my mind.

Question # 4. What is your passion? I will tell you what it's not. It's not being a writer. Being a writer is my job, STORYTELLING is my passion. I love, love, love taking an idea and mushing it around like a ball of Play dough and turning it into a happily ever after story. Recounting events in my life and making people laugh, bringing a tear to their eye, entertaining them, that's my passion. Going to the computer and writing is plain hard work. Hitting my daily word count is torture. Making my characters say and do the right thing at the right time is often frustrating. Twenty books and it isn't any easier. Go figure.

 Last question. What is your weakness?
This was the hard question and the one that took the most soul-searching. A lack of focus and procrastination are issues of mine, but my overconfidence is my real underlying weakness. I think I can do anything I put my mind to. The truth is, I can't always accomplish the lofty goal I've chosen. Someday, when I learn to channel my overconfidence into focus and productivity, I'm going to be the awesome prolific writer I want to be. Until then, I'll continue to struggle to meet my own expectations.

If you haven't shared the answer to my question, please feel free to do so. It's about looking inward and mapping a road to satisfaction with yourself.