When I first read today’s prompt, two specific things came to my mind. One is a direct answer to the question, and the other is sort of a rabbit trail kind of answer.
First of all, the very best compliment I have ever received was when a woman who had recently given her life to Christ told me, “I see Jesus in your face.” There’s just no comparing any other compliment to me with those words. I want more than anything else to help people in this world see Jesus and know how much He loves them.
But the second thing that came to mind was a compliment that I received behind my back concerning a funeral sermon I had preached. My sister related the story to me. The funeral was for a favorite aunt of mine, so a lot of the people in attendance were family members. One cousin, who had lived his life totally contrary to the Word of God and who never felt inclined to attend church or be involved in Christian activities was sitting beside my sister. Now, don’t misunderstand. I’m not judging this cousin. I love him dearly, and he understands the differences in our attitudes toward the Lord. But I emphasize his lifestyle and his lack of religious involvement to give understanding to why his words had such an impact. His main experiences with sermons had been at places like funerals and weddings, etc.
Anyway, at the end of the service, as everyone was getting up to be ushered past the coffin and go into the foyer to await the trip to the cemetery, this cousin turned to my sister, took hold of her shoulders, looked her in the eye and said with great emotion: “Your sister just preached the best DAMN funeral sermon I’ve ever heard!”
Since that time, I’ve taken advantage of the compliment to tease a few of my minister friends by telling them that I’ve received a compliment on my funeral sermons that I’m sure they’ve never received for theirs. And, indeed, they all agree. 🙂
Well, the truth is that I don’t like long, involved shopping excursions. Back when I was young — my teens and twenties — my family members and I — sometimes including grandparents and cousins — loved to go to large shopping malls in other cities or even other states. We’d spend the whole day and truly enjoyed it. But I think it was as much the joy of being together as it was the shopping.
Nowadays, I don’t have much family around, and I don’t even have a desire to plan an involved shopping trip anywhere. I’d rather know pretty much what I want — and specifically which store has it — and just go right to the store, make the purchase, and go home.
There are two exceptions: book stores and candy stores. If I had an opportunity to spend hours in a huge book store — the kind with unlimited variety — or a candy store — also the kind with unlimited variety — then I would seriously consider planning and executing a more involved shopping spree — even out of state. I could easily spend hours — and hundreds of dollars — in either of those two kinds of establishments.
Three things I absolutely could not live without are my Bible, Something to Write With, and Something to Paint With.
Well, that’s one way of looking at it. But actually, there’s an alternate list. The prompt didn’t ask us to list THE ONLY 3 things we couldn’t live without. The first list is definitely true. But so is my second list: My Bible, Coffee, & Chocolate.
There’s no question that my Bible comes first on either list. I live by God’s Word in every aspect of my life, and it gives me guidance, healing, and sanity in a very disturbed world. But those other two choices — well — they sort of ebb and flow.
There are days when I really do need to write. And my art helps release all the creative energy inside as well as relieve stress. So on some days, I couldn’t stand not being able to write or paint.
But then there are those days when all I need is to feel comforted and cozy and convinced that everything is going to be all right. On those days, numbers 2 and3 are definitely coffee and chocolate — preferably at the same time. 🙂
I don’t have a lot of time to enjoy these daily prompts, but I love to get involved with them when I can. However, I almost passed this one by because I have several different jobs — all of which are super important to me — and I knew I couldn’t write a post about all of them. But on more reflection, I decided to choose just one and respond concerning that particular job. So I’m choosing my job as a writer.
I have worn a number of different hats, even as a writer. I’ve written stories since childhood and wrote my first full-length play when I was in the sixth grade. As an adult, I progressed to writing for and eventually editing and publishing newsletters for different organizations — as well as small pamphlets for ministry purposes. (One of my other jobs is running a full-time ministry.) But as far as being paid for my writing jobs, I’d have to say that most of the compensation has come from my years as a newspaper reporter and journalist and then as an author of books in multiple genres.
And the answer to today’s question is a great big resounding YES! I love my job as a writer, and I have loved virtually every aspect of it — even when the assignments were difficult. When I was doing newspaper work, I got to meet and get to know so many very interesting — and most of the time enjoyable — people. I got to become a part of their lives for a while, and it connected me in a way that was unique. I also loved doing any research that was involved and getting down to the details and the nitty-gritty of a story.
In my non-fiction books, which are usually Christian ministry oriented, I have the opportunity to take information and revelation from God’s Word and share it with thousands of other people, who hopefully find help, encouragement, enlightenment, comfort, challenge, or just plain enjoyment in it. It’s extremely satisfying to know that perhaps I’ve been able to add something positive to someone else’s life by the work that I’ve done in those books. Then I’ve also had the joy of developing a creative writing curriculum as well. And over the years, I’ve used that to teach writing classes of all kinds at a local college, as well as online from time to time.
In my fiction, most of which is also Christian based, my goal has been primarily to help people know that God really is interested in each one of us personally and that He wants to be active in our every-day lives with His love and mercy. When a reader responds to those stories in the way I hoped they would — or when they tell me that something the characters experienced really helped them in their own lives — it makes all the hours and months and years of laboring to get those words onto paper and into the readers’ hands totally worthwhile.
And I also have the joy of creating a whole world full of people — and of constructing their lives. I can determine who they are, what they like, what they want, what they do about it, and what happens as a result. There are a lot of things in my own life — and in this messed up world — that I cannot control. But when I sit down to my computer keyboard and type those manuscripts, I am in control! It’s a great feeling.
I love writing the poetry as well. It affects me differently from the other types of writing, of course. Each area of the writing job requires a different kind of focus and application of skills and has it’s own effects on me as a result. But poetry has been a very special emotional help for me. About five years ago, I lost my very best friend of many years. Not only was he my soul-mate in so many ways, but he was also the very best editor I have ever worked with. It’s interesting, because he was not an editor by vocation. He was actually an attorney. But all of his life he had read voraciously and eclectically, and he just had this innate ability to see what was right and what was wrong with a written work. He often helped me by being my hardest critic, but he always had my back and always provided help when something really did need to be re-worked. He was also a storehouse of genius ideas.
When he was killed in a tragic accident, I was so hurt and suffered so much from the loss that I could not write books or articles of any kind for well over a year. But during that time I was able to write poetry almost every day. And writing those poems was healing for me. So during that year or two, I didn’t see writing poetry as part of a job. It was simply a source of comfort and restoration for my soul, and I was very grateful for the ability to write so prolifically in that genre.
So, as I consider the question of today’s prompt, I have to say that, not only do I enjoy my job as a writer, but I am very grateful for it in so many ways. I enjoy all of my other jobs as well, but even if I did not have the other jobs, I would feel quite satisfied for life with being a writer.
Oh, my goodness, that is such an easy question to answer. My favorite drink of all time is COFFEE — The elixir of life.
In fact, anyone who has followed my blog for any amount of time could have answered it for me, because they all know I have five specific categories on my website that are dedicated to coffee: ‘Daily Grind Coffee Quotes,’ ‘Coffee Thursday,’ ‘Let’s Talk Coffee,’ ‘Coffee Is a Poem,’ and ‘Coffee Valentines.’ 🙂
Not only that, but I’ve published the Daily Grind Coffee Lover’s Journal, and I am in the process of writing my newest coffee book titled Coffee: The Elixir of Life, which will include articles, poetry, and fabulous pictures with appropriate captions. Added to those activities, I have begun preparing a series of podcasts titled “Let’s Talk Coffee.” They aren’t available for the public yet, but soon.
So, yep, it’s coffee for me — no contest!
I came across a new challenge today — well, new to me. It’s hosted by Jim Adams on his WordPress site at this link. The challenge is to write a story or poem based on the theme “Better Left Unsaid.” So I’ve let my poet muse have sway and posted my response below.
BETTER LEFT UNSAID
I could have told him how I felt
About the lies he’d told behind my back.
I could have spoken out and said
That he a basic moral code did lack.
I could have talked to mutual friends,
And told them scores of ugly things of him.
And when I’d finished, they’d have said
They were inclined to believe all of them.
But once I’d had revenge on him,
What would the outcome be inside of me?
My sinking to his level so
Would mean I was as vile of heart as he.
But if I leave those thoughts unsaid,
I’ll rise above them, so I’ll remain free.
I’m running really late with trying to participate in Sadje’s “What Do You See?” challenge, but I managed to write this little poem before the deadline. As soon as I saw the vacancy sign, I knew I had to write about lost love. The photo is courtesy of Carter Saunders @ unsplash.com.
I’m sure the world can see the sign.
It flashes from my eyes.
My heart, which once was full of love,
Now mourns with tears and sighs.
You filled me with your golden love;
At least I thought ’twas so.
But suddenly you took your love
And said you had to go.
You’ve given yourself to someone new;
I’ll never comprehend
How I could have been so deceived
By nothing but pretend.
My heart is vacant now, indeed,
And all the world can tell.
I’ll keep it vacant from now on:
I’ve learned my lesson well.
Sadje’s “What Do You See?” challenge is really a challenge this week. But I decided to take a whimsical approach and came up with this little poem.
MISSED CALLS
He lived his life connected
To all of cyberspace.
He swiped and clicked and texted
At an amazing pace.
His phone was an appendage
That never left his grip.
To work, to play, to bathroom —
It always made the trip.
There were some friends who warned him
That he was too intense;
His focus on that device
Went beyond common sense.
He couldn’t stop himself though.
At every little ‘ding’
He had to stop whatever,
And bow to that darn thing.
Now, years after his passing,
From underneath the sod,
He still can hear that ‘dinging’
From what he’d made his god.
And though beneath the grasses
He lies in somber state,
His claw-like hands reach for it,
But, alas, it is too late.
The question for this week is “What do I see in this picture?” Well, I have to say that I see a rejected lover here, and my response is to try to put his feelings into words in a short free verse poem. If you’d like to participate in the WDYS challenge, visit Sadje’s blog here.
*******
THE CHOICE
I dreamed
that you would love me
as I love you.
But now,
even as my flowers
caress you face,
You dream
of someone else;
you are with him.
How then
can I find healing
for my heart?
Sometimes
love causes pain
that can’t be cured.
The choice:
to love and lose
or never love
Remains
for each of us.
I choose to love.
I don’t manage to take part in “Friday Fictioneers very often these days, but tonight I decided I just needed to write a story for the prompt. If you’re interested in taking part in writing stories of 100 words or less, hop over to Rochelle’s place and get the rules. My story this week is 99 words and is below the picture prompt, which comes to us from Dale Rogerson.
LAST CURTAIN CALL
“Look at her!” Claire whispered to Bryant standing beside her at the far right end of the line of actors. “Curtsying as if she’s greeting royalty, feigning humility when she’s loving every clap of their hands.”
“She’s a glutton for praise, all right.”
“That role should have been mine. I should have worn those gorgeous gowns instead of these ugly jodhpurs.”
“Well, at least you’re her understudy.”
“Hmmm, yes … well … not for long.”
“What, you’re quitting?” Bryant asked, shocked.
“No,” Claire said, a curious gleam in her eye. “She’s taking an unexpected leave of absence.”
If we were having coffee together today, I’d be serving you my Folgiers half & half blend. I love Folgiers. I generally enjoy Maxwell House coffee as well. Many of my family members and friends use the Keurig coffee makers, and they’re okay, but the coffee just doesn’t taste as good as it does when I brew my own by the pot.
If we were visiting today, I’d probably tell you about a new series of Christian ministry meetings I’m holding at the local civic center, because they are on the top of my “to-do” list. The first one was last month and went very well. The people who attended said they were very blessed, and the second meeting is scheduled for August 15. So I’m busy, busy, busy trying to get out all the advertising and notifications throughout the local media.
I would probably also tell you that I’m feeling pretty guilty because my house really needs a good cleaning, but telling you about my guilt is probably as far as I would go. I probably won’t do much actual cleaning this weekend. With the meeting to plan, a prayer meeting Sunday evening, and my newest journal project hanging over my head, I just can’t seem to focus on the vacuum, the dust rag, or the dishpan.
I’m sure, if I gave you plenty of refills on coffee and some cookies to go with them, you’d be sure to sympathize with me and agree that the cleaning should come farther down on the list than those other jobs. Oh, and that reminds me: I was going to pick up a new package of chocolate cookies when I was at Wal Mart a couple hours ago, and I forgot!
Not to worry, though. I have enough cookies left from some packages I bought last week — and some M&M candies as well. I’ll be fine.
Well, enjoy your coffee this weekend and be good to yourselves. I’ll try to get around and visit several of you and try out your brew before the weekend’s over as well.
To join in the fun of the Weekend Coffee Share, hop over to this link and get the simple rules to participate.
~~~
I haven’t played “Friday Fictioneers” in a long time, but today when I saw the picture I couldn’t help myself. I take no responsibility for the subject matter. It was the jacket hanging on the end of the banister that did it. Honestly — I couldn’t help it. 🙂 And the weirdest thing is that it came out at exactly 99 words without any editing. Go figure.
Here’s the picture prompt courtesy of Ceayr
HOUSE OF FLAWED FLOWERS
It was a unique little operation. Nothing like the “red-light” districts Derek had been used to. No money actually changed hands here. Men who used the service hung their jackets on the end of the stair banister with the fee in the pocket. Once they were ensconced upstairs, Madam Beatrice relieved the jacket of its contents, and replaced it for the client to retrieve when finished. She even included an innocuous receipt for tax purposes: “One House Special – $100.” Derek had a desk drawer full of those receipts, but he couldn’t use them. His wife was his accountant.
Okey-dokey, folks, it’s time for a fresh writing challenge. I’ve been doing this exercise with some of my creative writing students to help them get a better grip on using dialogue creatively and successfully in their stories. It’s a challenge for sure, but it’s lots of fun.
So here’s the only rule. Write a short story (anywhere between 100 and 500 words) using nothing but dialogue. No introduction, no tag lines to identify speakers, no narration of any kind.
Two Helpful Hints:
1. Since you can’t use tag words to identify speakers, you’ll be restricted to only two characters so that the reader can follow the dialogue easily.
2. You’ll need to make sure your dialogue reveals the identity of the characters because you can’t narrate their identity or description to your readers.
Just post your story on your own site and hop over here and put the link into the “Comments” section for this post.
No time limit: This challenge is open-ended. Anytime you read this post and want to try your hand at a dialogue story, go for it. Do more than one if you like. And don’t forget to come back here and leave your link.
My own story is below:
FAMILY PICTURE
“Mandy, what on earth have you done to the wall?”
“I’m drawing a merle, Mommy.”
“A what?”
“A merle. You know, a picture that covers the whole wall.”
“Oh, you mean a mural.”
“Right, and this is a picture of our whole family.”
“Our family?”
“Yes. See this really big person is God, because our Sunday School teacher said that all families come from God.”
“I see. And, yes, Mrs. Osgood is right.”
“And then here’s Daddy and you and me and Francis and Baby Daniel.”
“Well, I understand God and Daddy and me and you and Francis, but who on earth is Baby Daniel?”
“My little brother.”
“But, Mandy, you don’t have a little brother.”
“Not yet, but he’s coming. God told me today.”
“Ooooooh ….”
`
`
Anybody got a story about this lonely gate to . . . somewhere? . . . anywhere? . . . nowhere? . . . Wherever your imagination takes you.
If you’re in the mood for a writing challenge, create a new story from this photo by Terry Valley. Try to keep it around 500-800 words, and when you’ve posted it on your blog, hop over here and leave the link to the story in the “Comments” section below.
I’m not sure if I’ll have time this week to write a story for this picture or not, but whether I do or don’t, I hope several of you will. I’ll enjoy reading them, and I know others will too. Let’s say you can post your story anytime between today and next Wednesday, September 26.
And if you do write a story, be sure to put the link to this post on your site with your story so that your own followers will know about the challenge and can participate too.
Happy Writing.
The Happy Wordcrafter 