DeeEl's Mo Chroí Scríofa

After I Am Gone

I have a lot to get done in the next two weeks so this will probably be the last words I post here within Blogtopia.  Some have said they read my Meniere’s Blog regularly.  Either they missed my Letter Of Resignation, or they just didn’t care.  Since I am an advocate of giving people the benefit of the doubt, I will believe that they just lied to me in saying they read it regularly.

I spent last night in and out of sleep.  When I was out of sleep I was thinking about everything that still has to be done.  I woke up thinking about this post.

There are those who will wonder why I didn’t come to them with all of this.  Well, how could I bring you my tears when you didn’t want to share in my laughter?  In my life I have had one thing in my heart that I have striven to bring forth to the world in my meager words and that is peace through understanding and acceptance.  The world has not listened.  My heart is not to be heard.  The world is not ready to hear what is in my heart, for it would rather hold onto its anger and hatred.

Perhaps in my next life, the world will be ready to hear what is in my heart.  I believe that the intent of the heart follows you into your next life, so perhaps I have been trying to get the world to hear my heart for generations.  Not this life, but hopefully the next.  If you desire to me honor after I am gone, then remember the message of my heart and learn to accept others no matter the differences and understand that everyone is a human being above all else.

True peace will come when people move beyond the fears of what is different and accept everyone as individual human beings without the anger and hatred that continues to bind this world through ignorance.

Reading vs Writing

Benjamin Franklin once said; “Either write something worth reading or do something worth writing.”  When I first made it known I was heading toward freelance writing as a career, I was told to first learn how to read.  This was not said in the literal meaning of the word ‘learn’.  I was an avid reader as a child and adolescent.  I wanted to read.  When you are shy, reading can be your favorite pass time.  As a freelance writer, or a writer in general for that matter, you read – a lot.  Research means reading.  Luckily, I choose to write about things I love, like history.

I was scanning my Facebook this morning and my writer friend Adele had posted that she was awakened this morning by the delivery of Adam O’Riordan’s collection In the Flesh she had recently order.  Excited about receiving it, she set about reading straight away.  I have known people who read much like a chain-smoker smokes.  They are already picking up their next book in hand before they finish the last sentence of their current book.  I have never been one of those.

Before I go any further I would like to address one issue, writers who read and those who don’t.  I have known some great story tellers, but if you ask them to write the story in order to publish it, it is no where near as exciting as the story they tell.  This is similar to ‘writers’ who do not read.  It amazes me that there are those who desire to be writers but yet they don’t make it a habit to read.  In school they read the minimal amount to pass their classes.  A person would not climb a mountain without proper training and preparation.  So why do people think they can become a best-selling author if they haven’t prepared?  This excludes politicians and celebrities, they hire ghostwriters (Sarah Palin included).  Reading is training for a writer.

All great writers are habitual readers, but not every reader can write.  So which is the better choice, being a reader or a writer?  In my opinion the better choice is to be a reader.  *Waits for the phone to start ringing and the e-mails and IMs to begin following the vacuum-like suction from the gasps*  Reading brings about knowledge.  Knowledge creates informed individuals.  A few months ago there was a frenzy in the United States regarding the passing of President Obama’s Health Care Reform Bill.  Due to my illness acting up at the time, I was unable to write a post regarding that.  It seemed to me that so many people were voicing their opinions (which is supposed to be one of our constitutional rights) and yet they were uninformed of what this bill actually contained.  I actually went as far to say that those who voted on this bill had not even read it.  Yes, I have read the bill.  In fact I was in the process of re-reading it when it was passed to prepare for my blog post when my illness stepped in and halted the process.

In 1966, RIF (Reading Is Fundamental) was founded to motivate children to read.  Here in the area where I live, Dolly Parton began a program called Imagination Library which now reaches around the world.  In conjunction with that, the state of Tennessee has a program called Books From Birth.  Every baby born is given a book and then receives a new book on their birthday every year till age five.  Each of these programs and many, many more around the world are striving to improve and in some cases enact the habit of reading in children.

When I used to take care of children and would be there for their bedtime, reading was a habit.  I would have the children take their baths and prepare for bed and then meet me on the living room couch.  I would have one of their books or my complete works of Hans Christian Anderson and while they relaxed, I would read to them.  Reading to children will open their minds (imaginations) and pave the way to make them habitual readers.  There is one other side-effect to the practice of reading to children, it creates a bond like no other between the child and the reader (parent).

Read to your children.  Read for yourself.  I am not talking about reading the newspaper or what ever you may need to read for work.  Pick up a book or even a magazine and read for pleasure.  Lose yourself in your own imagination opened up within the pages of a well written book.  The rewards are immeasurable.  As for writing, those who write, write on!  Everyone else – READ!

Learning The Heart

I started writing more than 30 years ago when I was in the 7th grade in junior high.  I wrote a blog post a while back about how I got my start writing and being able to communicate my heart to others through poetry.  I had been writing for nearly five years when I graduated from high school.  Each year at the time of graduations our congregation would honor the graduates during a service and then present them with a gift, usually a book to offer guidance as they set out on a new and wonderful adventure.  On June 5, 1983 I was one of six in the congregation graduating.  We were presented a book of poetry and verse.  I was told that when they were deciding what to present, I was the one who came to mind.  They chose that particular book because I have a way of “reading between the lines”.  I was a stupid 17 year old kid and, while I felt honored, I didn’t have the slightest idea what was meant by these words.

It wasn’t till more than twenty years later that I would be able to really feel the honor that was bestowed that day.  I had heard the term reading between the lines before, but I don’t think I actually understood it to its fullest meaning.  I have never set out to be special or try to do things that are different from everyone else.   I think it is just that I see things from my hearts point of view and thus find different meanings in the way things are spoken and written.  After my book was released, I had a friend come to my house and ask me to sign a few copies so she and her mama could give them as gifts.  I sat looking at her and the books pondering what to write.  They wanted me to address them to certain people, write something and then sign the book.  I didn’t want to be like everyone else.  I have received autographed books and had a few signed personally as well.  I either get just a signature or “Best wishes” and a signature.  Then my mind went back to the person who told me I have a way of reading between the lines.  I had my autograph.

It made sense to me to do it this way.  There is so much to be learned when you go outside the box or in this case read between the lines.  So often we go through the motions of everything we do.  Our lives are so routine that we can drive our cars from point A to point B and sometimes wonder what happened in between.  We read the paper (or the on-line news) and it is all the same unless something really juts out and is different.  Try taking a breath and look at things from a different point of view.  Go outside the box, read between the lines and there you will find pleasure.

FIND PLEASURE BETWEEN THE LINES!!

Getting Inside

As long as I can remember, I have loved to do research. In my college psych classes, having the same prof was at times an advantage. He asked the same question in each of the classes “Who would rather write a 20 page research paper in lieu of taking an exam?” My hand was usually the first one up. My final class with this laid-back intelligent Jewish man was Adolescent Psychology which I took as an independent study. He looked at me during one of my orals with him and reminded me of this question in the other classes. He said that in all the years he had been teaching and of all the students he asked that question of, I was probably the only one who answered honestly. His reason for this question was in asking students who had test anxiety. Yes, I do.

To me, research is as natural as breathing. You don’t learn if you don’t seek and ask questions. Since being thrust into a life of freelance writing I have learned something new about myself and about research. Generally, I look at research as a way to learn about something that interests me. Now I see it as something so much deeper. When I wrote my book, Through God’s Mercy, I just sat and wrote. The research I conducted was first of all finding an empty spot in the ocean to place my island country. The rest of the research was using French/English, Spanish/English and Portuguese/English dictionaries to create some words for usage in this country. My newest book has taken me into the research of the history of Ireland as well as watching Irish movies and seeking out those who live in Ireland to get a better grasp on the verbiage and speech to use.

I still don’t consider this outrageous research. It isn’t even rating near the kind of research I may do to find out about doctors and lawyers I decide to hire. However, I have been doing some research lately that has taken me to a whole new level. I embedded so much of myself in TGM that at times when I read it I have to stop and shake myself off because I am so attached to the dept of it. I am currently working on some research that has given me the same feel. I love history and museums. I determined that as a freelance writer I would write about museums and historical events. Now the fun begins.

I wasn’t interested in writing the usual things that the whole world already knows. I wanted to find the hidden treasures. The little nuances that are not widely known. I knew that The Crockett Tavern Museum would be my first. I used to live just a couple miles from this museum and had visited there before. Then in July just past, I learned a hidden gem about Mr. Crockett and was given permission to use it and create from that. I knew I would be doing research, but I did not know then, how deep this would take me. I have begun to feel an almost intimate bond with an American legend that is bigger then the state he gave his life for. And yet, I know that even as I read his words and examine his prized rifle, I am hardly scratching the surface of who he really was. But this research has shown me that until I get inside the heart, mind and very essence of the one I am researching (much like I got into the minds of the adolescents I used to counsel) my research will be utterly incomplete. If the research is incomplete, the story cannot be told in a satiating manner to fully fill those who read.

Only From My Heart

Since I was 13 years old and sitting in my Seventh grade English class learning the art of poetry, I have been writing it. I was painfully shy in junior high and found it difficult to say what I wanted to say. When Mr. Leggore led us through the poetry course I found the way to express my heart. Since then I have written what is in my heart. Whether it be poetry, song, essay, short story, article or novel; my heart (and the tornadoes that control my pen) dictates what goes on the empty page.

I quit writing in July of this year. Too many things were happening and I couldn’t keep with it all. Being without a job and not being able to find anything in the writing field. My health and dealing with the residual effects of Meniere’s Disease. People being more critical of my work than requested (i.e.: telling me my book is technically not published due to the publisher). Just too many things pressing on me that I quit. However, John Lennon would not allow it to remain so. I was having sleepless nights and nights of tossing and turning due to dreams that occupied my sleep and waking hours. Then the end of July I read a quote by John Lennon and he related about song writing and I equated it to my writing. He said it’s not a song til it invades even your sleeping dreams and keeps you awake. Then you know it has a life.

Well, Mr. Lennon was actually briefer in his quote, but that is what I got from it and started paying attention to what was going on. I told my friends about this and they wagged their fingers at me and said “Told you so!!” I am meant to write. It fills my being from my heart and soul outward. It encompasses me. Writing is the breath in my lungs, the blood in my veins ~ Writing IS who I am.