Kindergarten All Over Again

I find different situations whether in life (as we all do) or in the niche, I have carved for myself in the world of writing. In both of these instances, I am bound to deal with people or in some cases beings that are anything but human. As we all can attest to, age is not a sign of maturity. Throughout my career as a construction superintendent, I dealt with more than my share of overgrown babies. I would prepare each morning to attend romper room. Not to say this behavior was the norm, but it only takes one.

Isn’t it a shame, as we look around this world we see the same thing. We are inundated with grown children who just can’t get along, and these aren’t just little tiffs, they the affect large numbers of people. It’s time to get out of the sandbox, little ones and quit throwing sand at each other.

The Great Thing About Grandchildren Is More Grandchildren

One thing that rings true in life is how important family can be. Even when I write, whether on purpose or by happenstance, family will enter into the story. I am blessed to have a six-year-old grandson, a two-year-old grandson, a one-year-old grandson and a granddaughter that’s still in the oven. On top of that, we adopted a family of five, a husband, wife and their three children. This gave us a twelve-year-old grandson, an eight-year-old granddaughter and a nine-year-old granddaughter.

These six children are six different blessings in their own right.

The six-year-old is a savant. He was teaching himself the Russian and Mandarin alphabet at the age of three, knows all the states and capitals, the periodic table of elements and all the countries of the world by their flags. He also loves to break dance.

Our two-year-old grandson envisions himself to be the amazing Spiderman and can do a mean impression of the incredible Hulk that is adorable. He loves his dogs like brothers, has become addicted to Hotwheels, and loves the water.

The youngest just turned one, which means his warranty just expired. He loves to smile, laugh, and carry on all manner of nonsense. He’s just beginning to walk and will reduce a normal adult into a blithering idiot trying to make him react to their antics.

Our twelve-year-old is two IQ points from being a genius. He calls me PaPa as do all the other children. He is definitely a carnivore. Knowing this, one of his Christmas gifts I gave him was pre-cooked bacon. It was one of his favorites. He has a microwave in his room and can nosh on pork belly to his heart’s desire.

The nine-year-old grand-daughter is the aspiring artist one minute and the daring adventurist the next.  If she’s not out climbing the nearest tree or trying out a skate board, she’s drawing a masterpiece, trying out a new instrument which she learns by sound, or using her sweet voice to join her beautiful Mom in a song.  She’s talented beyond belief.

There’s the amazing, adorable, eight-year-old who sees the world as one big rainbow full of love and sunshine.  She loves everyone and everything and laughs at the slightest reason. Everyone who meets her loves her and is inspired by her love of life.  She has multiple medical struggles but nothing stops her and she is a blessing to all who know her.

Then, there’s the one yet to be discovered whom I already love as well.  She’s negative 3 months, due in October and already giving Mom a hard time.  Ultrasound has her looking like her big brother and kicking up a storm.  Can’t wait to meet her.

Grandchildren, just another one of Gods great blessings!

What If?

I’ve been writing seriously for twelve years. Things tend to cross my mind that will make me stop and say to myself, “Where did that come from?” Case in point: All the letters I use when I’m tap, tap, tapping away at my keyboard, what happens when one or more of them need to be deleted?

Do they fall into a used letter bin, land in letter limbo, disappear, with a poof into nothingness or perhaps become part of a massive recycling program?

While we’re on the subject, what do we do if our computer comes to the point where it runs out of letters? Is there a way to refill or can your CPU become so antiquated that it is no longer supported by the standard refill program? If you find yourself able to install the alphabet into your desktop, must you install a compliment of all twenty-six letters or can you select the letters you use the most.

For instance, R, S, T, L, N would certainly be among the most often used, whereas B, G, Q, X, Z would most likely never need to be refilled.

In short, it gives us something to think about. You’re on a tight deadline and your publisher wants to see the first draft on Monday. It’s Sunday afternoon and you run out of R’s. See where I’m going with this? I could be saving the collective world of writing from total disaster, not to mention that card to your sweetheart you were unable to finish. At least, give it some thought. The page you save may be your own!

Writing as With Everything Good in my Life Originated from Above

  I think back over my writing career and ponder how it came to be. Sure, there’s the short version I put in all my bios, about losing my job of sixteen years and being diagnosed with Multiple Sclerosis and my son suggesting I give writing a try, but it’s much deeper than that.

I was raised in a Godly home, yet strayed in my late teens. I married in my mid-twenties, which in most ways was a mistake; however, received a wonderful blessing, my son. Even though my diagnosis came in 2006, I can look back and notice symptoms as early as 1993. I continued to move through life, remarrying in 1997. If there was ever such a thing as a soulmate, then I had found mine. Melding two families together was one of the greatest challenges my wife or I had ever faced, but with the help of God, we managed to not only make it through, but also grow our love for one another and our children. Health wise things took a turn for the worse. I ended up in the hospital for a month, part of which I was close to death. Over the next six months, I spent subsequent weeks back in the hospital. Slowly things began to improve. A year ago, a heart valve problem put me back in. I ended up on a ventilator, then they found the problem. They performed surgery to repair the valve, and I began the long path to recovery. I am in a wheelchair, but feeling good and optimistic about the future. I look where I am now, where this journey began and continue to marvel at the process that brought me here.

I could not conceive why so many negative things were happening to me. I learned it was because I was seeing a small part of the process, where-as God could see from beginning to end. Sometimes the only way out is through. Once I made it to the end of the journey, I thanked God for everything I had been through; for without the trials I would have never experienced the many blessings, I have received, the best being a  relationship with Jesus. Not only does it give me a more abundant life here on earth, God has a fantastic retirement plan.

Hot Monsters, Hot Peppers, Hot Salsa. Will This Hot Mess Ever End?

I decided to take a break from penning my latest novel, Dalon Con. The story is set on a world called Burrus Plax. It’s a sci-fi/dystopian/fantasy/action adventure hybrid with a heavy dose of time travel.

I was taking this short hiatus from work to indulge in a bit of nourishment. My personal assistant, Brenda, disagreed with me on the amount of salsa that should be scooped into the chip of a similar name.

First, let me explain my need for an assistant. It’s not because I think I’m some highfalutin pretty boy what needs some varmint to get their hands dirty for them. (Kinda reminds you of Yosemite Sam, don’t it?) The fact is, I woke up with a touch of Multiple Sclerosis this morning and needed some help typing (among other necessities).

Now, let’s get back to the important thing at hand. I am a lover of hot stuff when it comes to food. I chose to eat a rather hot salsa, so when it comes to plunging my chip into the fiery liquid, I tend to dip conservatively. My assistant, being unable to ingest foods containing capsaicin, is of the opinion that a scoopful should be just that, a scoop that is full.

Coming to the conclusion that we would have to agree to disagree, Brenda and I crept back into a world full of hair curling, nasty mega-monsters, time snatchers and a dystopian landscape . . . but alas, no capsaicin.