Wednesday, August 26, 2015
Since I didn't take a camera with me on this trip, at least the one above contain family, though in a different state. The other one is one Billy took on a trip to Hyannis Port.
My family flew to Alabama this past weekend to see my father and his wife. It became clear that they could use help.
What do you do when parents still believe they can do it all and refuse to listen to your telling them that info.
What happens when you have a life in a different state which requires you getting on a plane to fly to them?
What happens when the SENIOR adult children have almost as many issues as the parents?
How do you go about finding an agency where you don't have to worry that the even older parents will not be abused, robbed or taken advantage of?
Oh yes, and let's not forget, how in the world are you going to get the parents to take the help they need even though you've offered to pay for it?
Now, though all of the above are real questions, this blog would end on a downer if I were not a writer and see a story in everything. First off let me change the tone of this blog. Because while I do want to put the words out there for food for thoughts, since every person will one day ask the same question for which I don't have answers now. When I put this into fiction perhaps I can find answers for all of us.
We did get to visit relatives in my own generation and the generation behind me. That was fun. And it was fun taking a stroll down memory lane by returning to landmarks we'd left about 53 years ago. We do the same thing on every visit: Go to the street where my grandmother used to live, go to the street where we used to live. Go by the church and the school.
We catch up on gossip with the relatives in our own age bracket. We marvel how the state of Ala has not resorted to cutting down all the trees in order to build. And we take a deep breath and declare we can breathe much better. We marvel at our history, our memories and on the process of aging. We discuss the relatives who have gone, We keep the talk of aches and pain from our conversations. We try to remember all the old friends we're told that ask about us. Too much time has passed to remember them all. Its been too long since the last visit. But in a way it will always remain a part of us. It used to be home. And we used to be young.
Then we return to our home state and say in unison: THERE IS NO PLACE LIKE HOME.
Be sure to check out Cici's blog at ciciedward.com
Sunday, August 09, 2015
Good morning, all. Perhaps you're wondering why I'm posting this cover when this story is old...well...sort of old, and considering that the book I'm promoting is my recently published novel,
Writers are for the most part private people. We don't like divulging a lot of personal information about ourselves, so we have to find other things that we hope readers will be interested in. There's also a practical reason for that. Despite how much time and effort a writer, ALL writers put into their craft, there will always be things said about the work that can destroy if the writer hasn't developed a super thick Teflon skin. Knowing that why in the world would we expose our real lives? We'd be crazy to. Right?
And on that note, my planned post for today was going to be just that, exposing a part of myself, my reasons for writing. But as oftentimes happens something came in and saved me from that. I was looking for an image to use as an opening. The blank pages opening always look a little bare to me. Anyway, like most things in my life that I have no control over, I have even less control over where my computer will open on the numerous picture files that I have stored.
When I scrolled to Vulcan's cover, I knew I now had my somewhat changed topic. This post will still speak about me, but only the fantasy part. Which when you think about it could indeed be the real me.
You're going to have to scroll by up and take a good look at the cover. Go ahead, I'll give you time.
Okay, did you get a good look? Did you get the title? THE GOOD SIDE OF EVIL. How about the flames, and the flaming sword. And could you see that the flaming V looks sort of like a demon? No. Hmm. Maybe that's just me.
That whole cover tells you something about me if you think about it long enough. I'll give you one clue: I believe in redemption.Vulcan is a demon and by definition therefore he's EVIL. Right? Wrong.I enjoyed writing about Vulcan more than any character I've ever written. I believed if anyone could write a demon and redeem him, I could. Afterall, I have a bit of a demon in me.
IS THAT ENOUGH PERSONAL INFORMATION ABOUT ME?
Don't forget to check out my friend Cici Edward's blog. http://ciciedward.com