A Year Without Honey

A Year Without Honey....

I have done as you wished my girl, to the best of my ability. I've even managed to find love again, surprising as that is...but even with all of that; the pain of this day is not lessened. Not one bit. I still hear each labored breath...still watch helplessly as you slip away. Powerless. Helpless. Goddammit to hell...

You will always hold that place in my heart, that part of my soul that you so selflessly nourished and loved. You taught me humility and joy, made me a better person and man than I could have ever been on my own...so many gifts you left me.

Try as I might, sleep eluded me last night and as the sun rose my tears glisten with the pinkish gold of another day. The bitter saltiness seeps through my compressed lips as I shudder in the misery of your last days...just as my guilt threatens to overwhelm me, I feel you dear.

Whispering to me, soothing me...as you so often did. Encouraging me as I struggle with the challenges of moving on. It's still the smallest of things...a scent. A picture or a moment of deja vu. In the stillness of the morning and in the pounding of the rain, you are there. Tugging at my heart and nudging me forward...

“Live and be happy boy.” Yes dear...I'm trying.

So many changes these past months. I've moved from our condo and sold or donated most of our household belongings. Much of the rest is in storage until I can decide what to do with it. I'm learning to live again with someone I think you'd like and respect. She understands the duality of a heart thats suffered such a loss because she too is a widow.

We're learning together that being happy again isn't a reason for self recrimination. I don't believe that the door ever closes on a lost love but I do think it can become a room where we can visit with fondness and warmth, eventually.

So on this day while I grieve and the pain is so biting, I have hope that you are smiling and happy in the knowledge that I've not given up and am trying to share what you so generously gave me in abundance...love...now and forever my honey.

Updating My Girl...

Updating My Girl.....

I'm quickly approaching the seven month mark without you by my side honey. Unfathomable....but I'm writing this as a long overdue update and to try to make peace with my soul. I hide it well these days but in those quiet moments, I still fall apart my darling...my heart cries out for what it knows cannot be and it's then that I shudder in helpless rage as the tears fall. This isn't how it was supposed to be!! For all of it's intensity, my anger and heartache are impotent. I can no more confront a disease than I can God and I know what you told me sweet girl...there isn't a reason or an answer.

Once upon a time just being in your arms was enough. I knew because of the way you loved me...I was blessed to have had you at all but it also makes missing you that much harder. I will forever love you Tammy Jean.

On the positive side, your belongings have been donated to the battered women's shelter as you wished and I returned your training manuals and donated your equipment belt to the Urbandale police department. The new chief was kind enough to not only meet with me but spend thirty minutes of his busy day sharing his thoughts and honoring your service. He also sent me a challenge coin...in your honor. An impressive and compassionate man indeed. Everyone loved my girl...

I've taken you home to our boys and you'd be very proud of how well they're doing. I know I am. My knees are doing well and with minimal direct therapy; I was released to continue on my own without follow up, yesterday. I also joined a gym and have dedicated myself to four days a week. You're always in my ear whispering encouragement and chuckling when I'm sore babe. I've lost 32 lbs to date and the goal is another 50 by years end.

I'm also trying to be present and remain engaged with family and friends. You know that this most of all is hard for me...but I do try.

I see the surgeon on Monday and baring the unforeseen, he should allow me to return to work on the 16^th of February. I'm going to SD afterwards to spend time with my father, brothers and family again before I return to the grind. I'll return in time to clear the company doctor and prepare myself to get back into a work routine once more.

I've set the goal of returning to some kind of writing schedule by the end of June. Hopefully, that won't have to be adjusted but we'll see. Life marches forward and I reluctantly accept that...but I miss our life. Your laughter most of all. There is still beauty in this world and I truly try to see it as you did...full of optimism and hope. I want to continue to carry that which you taught me...that beacon of belief into the better natures of all. It's a struggle and not in my nature...but I hear you dear. Now and forever, my honey. 

Taking Honey Home....

This past week has been a whirlwind of activity, coupled with long hours of solitude while driving to and from Tennessee where honey and I lived for so long. While primarily it was to spend time with our grown boy's and return their mother's ashes and mementos, I was also able to visit some very dear friends and even witness (behind the curtain!) the birth of the fifth grandchild in a very special family.

To ALL of them, I say thank you, for including me in such a precious moment and I know that the upcoming sixth grandchild (in about a month) will be a wonderful blessing as well. I am honored and blessed beyond words by your love and kindness. To those of you that I missed, I apologize...inclement weather (In Iowa) cut my trip shorter than planned. Such is life...we do the best we can.

The time spent with my boy's was emotional and special as well. I got to see firsthand how they're not only coping with the loss of their mother but doing their best to fulfill her (our) desire to live fully and to pursue happiness each day. I'm proud of both of them and I know my honey would be bursting at the seams. David and Josh...I love you. I know that juggling your work schedules and personal schedules is always challenging, I enjoyed every minute we spent together! :o)

I was able to visit many of the places honey and I lived and loved...time changes many things but the memories remain. Bittersweet and tearful as it was, I'm glad I took the time to see them again. The next task on her list is too give her personal belongings (clothing, etc.) to those in need. I found a local shelter for battered women and children and it will be receiving most of it. I think she'd have liked that...boxing those will be HARD but I intend to have it finished by the end of this coming weekend.

After that? I just don't know...the rest of honey's list isn't something I can predict or put a specific time to. The knees are coming along but are stiff and swollen from all the hour's of driving. Ice and elevation will take care of that in a day or two. Baring the unforeseen I should be able to return to work by my target date of February 16^th.

I'm still trying to find my footing and struggling to keep my mind and heart open to the possibility of happiness and love. I KNOW I have those things in my children and dear friends....it's what keeps me moving me forward. At this point, I can't imagine ever finding a personal relationship like I had with my sweet honey. Impossible. So...I will just keep doing the best I can each and every day. I have goals and task to complete once I return to work and that in itself will keep me busy for the immediate future.

I am thankful for what I have...yes dear. But damn, I miss you my girl....forever my sweet honey. 

A Letter To Honey....

A Letter To Honey.....

In three short days it will be five months...since I had to let you go. Since I've held your hand or kissed your head....add a few more days and even though you were so very sick, since you told me you loved me and smiled your beautiful smile. My God how I've missed you....

I tell myself that it's getting better. That I'm learning to live without you...but that's a lie. I HATE being without you. I've had days without tears...even moments when I can smile and laugh but they are fleeting and often filled with guilt. Yes dear...I hear you...but I cannot change how I feel.

I've worked hard to try and fulfill some of the many promises you asked of me. Both knee joints have been replaced and going into the fourth week, (3 days past the third week on the first knee.) I'm ahead of the curve physically and am aggressively weening myself off the pain meds. I mostly use them to help me sleep and am strictly adhering to the medical advice of the doctors and therapist. I'm still watching what I eat and have lost 26 pounds. The goal is another fifty by this time next year. Ambitiously, my return to work date is February the 16^th. We'll see.

I should be allowed to drive after the 18^th of this month and hope to go and see our boys and spend time with Joe and Lisa and the family as well. The holidays have been truly miserable...I don't expect that to change anytime soon. The memories of better times...of your laughter and merriment are what keep's me going and of course, brings me to tears...huddled on our bed, miserable and sobbing helplessly.

Which brings me to those things that I've not done so well at...I haven't been as receptive as I could be to offers of assistance. You know I've always sucked at that. I also haven't been writing...very little anyway. This small piece has taken many hours and even more tissues. The focus just isn't there. The honey-isms that I want to share, simply won't come. They're too painful to think about...still. I find myself withdrawing more and more...and I know. It's not what you wanted. It is what it is....you told me not to be angry. But I am.

At myself...at the disease and God...at people in general. I resent what I no longer have...knowing a thing is petty and wrong doesn't prevent you from feeling it anyway. Not one damn bit. The world moves on...as do we all. That simple truth hurts...each and every day. That it would continue without such a beautiful soul seems wrong...and out of place. Am I alone? Of course not...it happen's every day. My feelings are not unique...but my heart doesn't care about reason or logic. It only knows that without you, it feels barren as a field on winters morning and that harsh wind that blows through it, leaves me shivering and broken.

I don't know what tomorrow brings...my short term goals are simple survival. A to B, day in and out. You know I won't quit. It's not in me...much as I sometimes wish it was. You were my joy and delight...you made everything new and possible. I find it harder to care...but I will keep going.

I try hard to be thankful...for all that we had. For those that still love and support me...to do as you asked of me...but baby it's HARD. So Goddamned hard...I love you Tammy Jean and I miss you so much.

I'll keep swinging honey...I promised I would.  

Tear's At Dawn...

Tears at Dawn...

I was beginning to wonder if it'd ever happen but for a couple of days this past week, there were no tears for my girl. It lasted two days and returned with a vengeance that's left me hollow and numb...the minds a funny thing. We can rationalize a thing, KNOW the reality of it and accept the logic but our hearts will still give not one damn for any of it.

Once again, it's O'Dark thirty....and the ache of my heart seems to leave a gap in my soul that erodes my ability to feel things normally. I'm either raw and on the ragged edge of tears or closed down completely, shutting out everyone and everything. I try very hard not to default to the latter...but I realize that I've failed miserably at that recently. If I've hurt feelings in that regard, my apologies.

In five days my first knee replacement will take place, followed by the second seven days later. Everything is in place in terms of logistics...food, physical therapy and sufficient distractions to keep me from going stir crazy (I hope) for the first 5-6 weeks of isolation. After that, I should be able to drive and I hope to spend some time with my family both in South Dakota and Tennessee. My targeted return date for work is February 16^th. Three months....which will complete a promise I made to my sweet honey. Beyond that? I just don't know. I have some long term goals and like most people, I'll be bound to my place of employment for the foreseeable future. I'll be 5 hours from family in one direction and 11 in the other...it is what it is. Four months past that and I'll be 54 and nearly a year without the love of my life....how is that even possible?

It hammers home the simple truths we all know but tend to ignore. The world will continue without you...time will march forward, relentless and uncaring no matter how much we rage against it. I understand now how so many people simply give up...what's the point, right? It's something I've wrestled with these past months daily. If God is the answer and everything happens for a reason, then was my honey's suffering for a higher purpose? If so, Gabriel is going to have his hands full when my time comes...

My honey was the spiritual rock in our household. I'm not talking about organized religion, which has failed miserably in my experience but there ARE people who; like my dear girl, exemplify both the example and the intent of all religions. They are compassionate, caring and selfless....they help strangers because they want to make a difference. It's these few that give me hope that there is a bigger purpose in our existence. They're spiritual but not necessarily religious in the conventional sense. They believe (as my honey did) they have faith. I truly wish I did...I've been reading her much marked and highlighted bible lately. I've read it (and most other spiritual books) many times over the years. As a soldier and police officer, I've seen the atrocities people of all nationalities can inflict on one another...the price of free will? Maybe. She believed in the goodness of people...of the ability of almost anyone to become a better person if given a chance. It's one of the things I loved about her...and something I've always struggled with. Trust. Mostly, I don't...

I can almost hear her chuckle and repeat the mantra she whispered so often into my ear... “Love and encourage, boy.” She did teach this knuckle dragger to do that, albeit with one hand figuratively still firmly placed on the butt of a handgun. SO....as the sun comes up this morning, it reflects off the tears that stain my face...I see her beauty there...her heart and her desires for me to embrace another day.

I'm trying baby...but oh how I miss you and your loving embrace....I hope and I pray that you're in a better place. Beyond the pain and the hurt...I love you Tammy Jean.

Walls and Wishes...

Walls and Wishes.....

As I sit sipping coffee this morning, I reflect on the stillness of my environment. It's more than just the predawn quiet, it's the absence of presence and the knowledge of loss that makes what should be a simple time of recharging; instead an uncomfortable reminder of the hollowness in my heart....

It's a testament to the depth of my love for my sweetest honey and a true example of how very much she enriched my life. I know that there are people that enjoy being single and truth be told, I've never been bothered by being alone...but I miss my soulmate. That feeling of completeness that comes with the certainty of a safe harbor...of a place and a person that truly accepts and loves who and what you are...flawed as that may be.

As children our experiences teach each of us to build walls. Defensible places that we can shelter parts of ourselves from harm. As we become adults, these walls become multi-layered mechanisms for interacting with others. It's natural and a commonality all humans share...we expose only those aspects that we feel comfortable with and that can be quickly withdrawn when we perceive a possible threat. It's a survival mechanism hardwired into each of us. Those things which we hold most dear...our dreams and wishes of the heart are some of the most tightly held. We learn from hard experience to heavily shield that which can hurt us most deeply.

When we love, we slowly learn to allow each other to see all of those sanctums. Our fears, weaknesses and dreams reside here and when used against us or judged irrelevant, the damage can be catastrophic; resulting in walls so thick that we deny access even to ourselves. Honey and I spent years carefully learning how to share and truly know each other fully...in each of us lies greatness and sorrow. Learning to embrace and encourage such dynamically different parts of another is both challenging and ultimately rewarding that it defies description.

It's what makes each of us special and unique...

It was my honey's wish that I not rebuild those walls that she so lovingly created doors too. In some cases, into places I had kept locked even to myself. I'm not a braggart but even in my diminished physical condition, there isn't a man on the planet that I fear...I know I can more than hold my own...and yet I can feel some of those bricks being layered once more. Closing off things and places that I'm no longer sure I can go.

I know some of this is grief but as of late I've also found myself isolating large parts of my life simply because they're painful. I'm writing less...ignoring lines of communication and becoming less social. I've never been very dynamic in that arena but I it's becoming more strained as I struggle to stay minimally connected. For those of you that I hadn't responded to, my apologies...I do sincerely appreciate your efforts.

So...my wish and my hope is that I'll keep journaling my experiences and in doing so maybe scribble something that is relatable and relevant. My fear is that this is an exercise in futility, that my random ramblings are just that....meaningless rants. So be it... for the moment, this is an effort for me to unscramble and sort through the mess I've become.

In my heart I know that this mattered to her and in this way I can rationalize that I tried...for both of us.

If you're still reading, all I know is this...even Superman in his fortress of solitude needed Lois...if you have someone in your life that you hold dear, let them in...work on it together. All things of greatness require risk...and encouragement. Embrace the differences fully...enjoy the simple act of being free to lower your defenses and be who you are. Share your desires and pursue your dreams...hand in hand, for as long as you can...we get one shot and settling is a path to defeat.

And if you're alone? Do what you can...in whatever form that looks like to offer a glimpse behind those parapets. Try...as I am, to share some of your own light. Maybe...just maybe, it'll light another's way. It's a worthy wish from a famous quote...

Worthy are the broken...that rise again and again.

I hear you babe...softly whispering my dear honey.

Life Support

The challenge of the blank screen or page is something that we as writers face each and every time we sit down to begin a project. At times the words seem to flow effortlessly and when they do, that feeling of creation is a heady thing indeed.

Unfortunately that isn't always the case...for whatever reason, there inevitably will be a time when we struggle to keep our writing schedules or feel uninspired. Then that blinking cursor or the empty page are not only daunting but can seem insurmountable. We falter...questioning our abilities and our chosen path. Is this story worth telling? Am I doing it right?
The nothingness reflects like a mirror and the longer you stare the greater the void  becomes...the hiss of air escaping into the cold vacuum of space, would almost be comforting. Shuddering, we close the window and redirect our attention and in that moment our nemesis grins.

Is it over? It shouldn't be...not if this solitary profession is something you believe in! As writers, it's our JOB to overcome such challenges; to fight with our intellect and will. To mold that barren wasteland into something interesting and believable for others to see and appreciate. Creator of worlds and the shaper of destiny...not a bad job title, eh?

Writers, for the most part work alone and therein lies the biggest part of the problem. If you don't know why you're stuck or even if you DO, finding the solution on your own is akin to solving a rubics cube while juggling vials of hydrochloric acid and taking a polygraph. Sure, you can do it but there's gonna be scar's!

Having a support group of like minded folks is not only important but vital to keeping the muse in an agreeable mood. Spending the time and effort needed in finding a writiers group in your area that is positive and encouraging, will likely make the aformentioned task seem like childsplay but it's worth it!

Having a trusted group that will listen to and understand your frustrations and concerns is like having a team of crack EMS personnel at you disposal. Use them. More importantly, be there to lend a helpful hand of your own to a colleague in their time of need.

The One Percent

On this day we reflect on those who serve our nation, past and present; both men and women who volunteer to be in harms way. Nearly all of them are young. Sons and daughters with little world experience but with an unyielding desire to push their limitations and test themselves in a way most others wouldn't dream of.

They don't do it for the money. It pays very little. The reasons are as varied as the individuals themselves. For some, its a family tradition spanning decades. For others theres a hole...a void that cries out, waiting to be filled. They want to make a difference. Most couldn't tell you why or even what they believe that difference to be...but they hear the call. More importantly, they act on it.

One percent...that's the amount of our population that serve. The number that runs toward danger instead of away. The few that are willing to sacrifice everything, time with their families and loved ones, even their very lives to complete complex task decided far beyond their ability to influence.

They swear an oath...an allegience to the country and its people and they keep those promises. The sad reality is that those making such decisions rarely expose themselves to such risk. Sadder still, we as a nation have failed to fulfill the promises made to them by our elected leaders and we as a people haven't held those folks accountable.

In each generation there are conflicts, global missions undertaken that inevitably cost lives. The cost of freedom is high...it has always been and shall continue to be paid for with the blood of patriots. Whether they perish in training or on the battlefield is irrelevant. The cost remains the same.

It is difficult to understand such mindsets without having experienced it yourself. Your compatriots are not simply coworkers. They become your brothers, your sisters, your family. Bonds formed under such extremes last a lifetime and for those of us separated by time and distance, the ache never truly leaves.

So I would ask, for my brothers...for my sisters in arms, if you will, do not simply thank them for their service on this single day. I ask that you remain vigilant, that you safeguard those freedoms so painfully earned. Hold our leaders to the same moral and ethical standards that we have sworn to today and long ago.

For the vanguards, those who choose to make a career of sacrifice, duty and honor, I salute and thank you. For all who have and do serve, I am proud to be counted among that one percent.

Reality Check

Until recently I was a resident of TN and my heart goes out to the families of those killed in a senseless act of cowardice and terrorism. Those brave souls where some of our nations finest. Volunteers.

Soldiers and law enforcement are the tip of the spear folks. They defend our rights and freedoms, doing dangerous work that to often gets them ridiculed or worse, forgotten and ignored. Are they perfect? No....All to human, like you and me.

It's time for our politicians to state things as they are. Terrorism isn't limited to a color or creed. It's carried out by fanatics with little or no regard for how or who they hurt, kill or maim. 

Our soldiers and law abiding citizens are berated for wanting to carry firearms. This isn't a gun control issue...it's a truth issue. Spinning things to distort the truth...to distill the core of a problem is madness at a truly magnificent level. Call it what it is. 

There's a famous quote that says: "All that is necessary for evil to flourish in the world is for good men to do nothing." That's never been more true...

This is not a call to arms. It's a call to become our neighbors keepers once again. To help each other and slow down enough to be a real part of your community. To be vigilant and supportive. To not be afraid to HAVE standards!

We needn't be disrespectful to those that are different but the equality must be EQUAL across the board. Just because we disagree doesn't mean that there  MUST be hate or bigotry involved. There shouldn't be. Diversity is the foundation and strength that built this great country. Principles....thing's we seem to have forgotten in the name of political correctness. 

The harsh reality is the world we live in doesn't follow the rules. In some places there aren't any, which is one of the reasons our country is so attractive. Our rights have NEVER been free...it's paid for...constantly with the blood of our patriots. 

The Fallen

                                                             The Fallen

On this long weekend above all others, most Americans gather to enjoy the start of summer, shrugging off the last effects of winter and breaking out the BBQ grills and summer toys. Many do thank service members on this day…mistakenly and good naturedly.

For those whom served this is hopefully meet with grace, regardless of what your feelings might be… for this is not our day. It is reserved for our brother and sisters that sacrificed all. For their families, who know the pain of promises lost and uncertain futures.

For us, we veterans; this day of remembrance is bittersweet…of the hardships shared and the camaraderie that is found nowhere else in human existence.  We have the same questions, with no easy answers; as the families and those feelings are often compounded by the guilt of survival.

What all of us must keep foremost in our thoughts is this…our friends and family members, those brave warriors who gave their all, did so freely and without remorse or hesitation. For God and country? Perhaps in part but mostly for those whom stood beside them united in the ideal of right over wrong and the certainty that those basic freedoms must be protected and safeguarded from those who would do it harm.

On this day, I thank their families. The children most especially, who will grow up without fathers and mothers. Please know that their sacrifice was not in vain and that the world is both safer and richer for having had them in it.

I would ask that on this day, we each honor that by extending a helping hand to those families still struggling with such monumental loss, remembering that our freedoms are rights earned thru sacrifice, not inalienable privilege.

For myself, I am honored to have served amongst them.

Perception And Probabilty

As writers we're happiest when the words are flowing at a breakneck pace. When the muse isn't simply speaking but screaming for our attention, hopping up and down and gesturing wildly like a man caught in the throes of a grand mall seizure! For those rare moments, the pages pile up and the word counts soar...it's AWESOME...but for each storm there is a calm and of course the inevitable wreckage created in its passage.
So what is writers wreckage you ask? Composition debris...especially when we're on fire! We all have these at some point ...plot holes, unresolved threads, inconstancies in charator or story. Too much filler...too little dialouge or anything that fails to progress or more importantly, drops the reader OUT OF THE STORY!
As the creators of our worlds we take liberties with reality and thats ok...to a point BUT when we sacrifice believability simply because its convienant or it "makes" the story work, we cheat ourselves and our readers. A hard core criminal suddenly has a change of heart and becomes compassionate for a stranger...a little old lady takes down a SWAT team...a top notch investagator 'forgets' a basic procedure. These are real scenes from published works, that made me (and many others, by the reviews) pause and throw the red BS flag!
It didn't sound real...it was a wave of the magic wand...the whole thing was a dream kindia resolution that drives readers AWAY.
As writers we know what the backstory is...we KNOW how these things happened and have rationalized it; to. by. damn. WORK! This is why it's vitally important to get an outside perspective. Let a Beta reader, a trusted colleague, someone you trust to give you unbiased feedback, and to review your work before you send it for submission. In the fictional genre, probability is the meat of our stories...what IF, is our hook...that which sets our stories apart and makes them uniquely our own.
What we must not do is give in to the temptation of finishing by taking the easy path...find a solution that could happen, even if its improbable. It just can't be IMPOSSIBLE! If we've done our work well, our charators are multi-faucet people of depth...get inside their heads... make THEM figure it out!
Ask why...how...where...would they do this thing? What would motivate them? Inhibit them, ect.
When we get the perception down we'll more clearly see the story from the perspective of our charators and more critically, our readers.

Endurance

When we think of endurance, many things come to mind. Sports, fitness and even relationships are often connected to that term. So what is endurance? The definition is more complicated than you may think...
Enurance is the ability of an organism to exert itself and remain active for a long period of time, as well as its ability to resist, withstand, recover from and have immunity to trauma, wounds or fatigue.

As authors most of us know that to be successful, endurance isn't just handy catch phrase, it's a prerequisite! Only a tiny percentage of us will ever have the luxery of writing a single piece that becomes an instant sensation or a national best seller. For most of us, we need to be prepared for the long haul...to write consistantly, producing solid stories that we not only love but that are worthy of publication.

Think about it. When we send our work into the world several things will happen. Elation...that wonderful bliss of completion and satisfaction that comes from doing all that hard work. Doubt...usually followed by self recrimination. We asks ourselves..."Was it REALLY ready?" Of course there's also the aforementioned fatigue...and there WILL BE trauma...and wounds....so hang on! Not EVERYONE will enjoy your labors...nor should you expect them too. Visibility is difficult to obtain and even harder to maintain. Publishing is merely the first step in our journey!

Writing is with few exceptions; a solitary endeavor, so how does one build that endurance from within to "resist, withstand and recover?" The glib answer is to keep writing and that's true but it's also SO much more complicated than that!

With work, (most of us have 'real' jobs!) family, social commitments and the day to day necessities of simply living are exhaustive enough BUT add in writing schedules, research and that pesky but all important 'building a social media presence' thingy AND book promotions/sales and signing events.....ARE WE HAVING FUN YET?

So how DO we eat an elephant? Of course, one bite at a time! To build our writing endurance it's vital to set goals and task that are both realistic and obtainable. While its important to be consistent, its IMPERATIVE to balance your writing activities with experiences that will strenghten your writing immune system to critique, frustration and burn out.

Go to a seminar or workshop. Get togather with other authors ( or readers!) and have coffee. Toss around some ideas and swap stories, laugh and enoy yourself! Read. Then read some more...read outside your normal genre, volunteer at a library, VA or shelter to help with their literacy programs.
Be involved in something that helps to recharge and inspire your interest! Do these things....find that balance and your writing cannot help but get stronger and more relatable.

I guarantee you'll have more new ideas than you can shake a stick at AND your writing immune system while shrug off attacks like a pack of super hero's!

Web interview

I just interviewed with Erik Van Mechelen on writing your first novel. Check it out here:
http://www.shakeup.tv/translate-world-travel-martial-arts-first-novel-jim-hellvig/

Maintenance

It starts the moment we draw our first breath and continues even beyond our existence. Without it, civilization crumples and biology’s fail. We’re educated and trained in this multi-faceted art form throughout our lives and most never give it more than a passing thought. I’m speaking of maintenance of course!

      Think about it…our homes, cars, bodies, relationships… everything in this world requires regular maintenance. Even when properly serviced most things deteriorate but when neglected …well sooner or later expect the catastrophic!

As a professional electrical maintenance technician, I thought myself well versed in the methodology BUT after consideration I realized I’d committed the cardinal sin for someone in my profession…I ASSUMED!

In my writing life, I mistakenly ASSUMED that as long as I continued to write I was maintaining, right? WRONG! Writing is the operation! It’s the function or the work of the process it’s NOT maintenance! So…how does one preform maintenance on a craft? There are no lube points…no fluids…no electrical nor mechanical checks…Hmmmm.

For starters, on a regular basis I suggest you challenge your skillsets…do writing prompts that take you far beyond your comfort zone. They needn’t be long exercises but they should take you down paths you normally wouldn’t tread.

Attending seminars and conferences is another maintenance must! Not only will it tune your writing engine but it will also enable you to build a rapport with like-minded folks and other professionals in the industry.

Too often as writers and human beings we ‘circle the wagons’ drawing ourselves into a tight knit, small cluster of people, limiting our exposure to the dreaded unfamiliar. If you truly wish to empower your writing, open yourself to new experiences, places and people! It’s like dumping high-octane booster into your fuel tank…you’ll get MORE POWER! OOOH---OOOH----OOOH!!!

Being Social On Media....

            Being Social On Media

   

 It’s everywhere these days AND we're told, "It really IS necessary!" As authors, words are our chosen conduit for expression. We devote enormous amounts of time and energy to it, we craft and we mold, chipping away until we agonizingly send our 'darlings' into the world...but the world has changed.

Publishers today require more of their writers. Platforms, forums, followers, networking and the list go on. Why? Partially because the digital age has made self-publishing easier than ever. Today’s readers have more choices then ever, which makes finding your book akin to finding the proverbial needle.

So in publishing houses of all sizes, they require a…presence.

Facebook…Twitter…Pinterest…Google+…sound familiar? It can be overwhelming. Setting up profiles, what content to add, getting followers?! ARGHHHH!!!!

While I would agree that such profiles can be helpful and can generate word of mouth for your books, finding a balance will be challenging. Spending too much time takes you away from what you should be doing…writing your next book!

Indulging in repetitive self-promotion will quickly get you ignored or even BLOCKED!  I suggest a few simple things.

1.    Concentrate on ONLY one or two sites, making scheduled and relevant updates weekly or even monthly.

2.    Share things with your audience besides your product!

3.    Social means just that…you MUST remember that this is a PUBLIC forum… Ranting, raving or responding to negative feedback cannot happen!

4.    Breathe deeply and let it go.

The technology is here to stay folks…while we may not all embrace it; it’s a tool like any other. How you use it and how often are up to you.