Spiritual Thunderstorm

The frigid rain pelted my face as I ran. Lightning flashed around me causing me to hunch over, but I kept my pace. I stumbled, my knees submerged in a filled pothole. I groaned as I bounced back to my feet. My ankle stung, but I had to continue. I could not fail. I would not fail.

Thunder boomed and I saw my chance, a red beam of hope. My last chance. I waved my hands in the air and shouted toward the beam, “Wait!”

My heart dropped as red switched to green. I willed myself to run faster than I ever thought possible. The black sedan was beginning to lurch forward as I slammed my hands on the trunk. I could see the driver jump as she eyed the rear view mirror.

I bounced around to the passenger side door before she could make a run for it, swung the door open, and threw myself into the seat.

“What’s going on?” she screeched.

Ignoring her question I reached into the back seat, steam rising from my body. I grabbed the clear plastic bag and jiggled it in front of her. “I forgot my donut.”

My mother sighed and banged her head on the steering wheel. “Buckle up, I’ll take you back home.”

Another round of lightning flashed as I pulled the frosted pastry from its cellophane prison. I bit a huge chunk out of the donut and laid my head against the seat. Closing my eyes, I let the dough melt in my mouth, before looking into the storm and muttering, “Thank God.”

Time Wasted

I lost a friend today. I'd known Fay Schoenhals since I was knee-high-to-a-grasshopper at Sunday School. She watched me grow up, bought Girl Scout cookies from me, and even attended my wedding shower. She always talked about her Purple Martins. She had two or three houses in her backyard and they came every year. I have always been a bird nerd and she always invited me to come and observe them. I promised I would, but every time I visited my parent's house I didn't. I never really made excuses, I just didn't go.

Then about three years ago I got serious about writing my book. It was set in the 1930's and I had read a ton of books on the decade, but I wanted to talk to people who had lived it. My parent's suggested I talk to Ester Miller. During the interview Fay showed up to talk to Ester and I was privileged to hear stories from both of their pasts. They shared stories with me about water generators, farm chores, hoedowns and market days. I loved every minute of it. Fay even came by my parent's house later that day to tell me how they used to roller skate. As she left my parents house, she told me how much she had enjoyed our talk and hoped we would do it again soon. I said, "Absolutely" with every intention of fulfilling my promise, but never did.
I regret that I didn't take the time to go see her again. I always put it off till the next visit. After her husband died, I promised myself that I'd go over there and see her, express my condolences, but I didn't. I kept thinking there would be a next visit. And now there will never be a chance for the "next" visit.

You'd think a person who, in her 34 years of life, has lost a little sister, boyfriend, grandparents, along with countless other aunts, uncles and cousins would cling to every opportunity because there may not be another chance to say, "I love you", "thank you", or even a "I'm glad you're my friend."

So I encourage you today to take the opportunity to not only tell your loved ones how you feel, but to visit an elderly neighbor or volunteer at your local shelter or even write that novel you've been dreaming about. You know all those things you put off till tomorrow and don't just do these things because there might not be a tomorrow or because it will make you feel good, but more than likely it'll make somebody else's day. And there is no greater joy than that.

Focus People!

So, it's January again, a time for reflection on the past year and to make promises for the new year. A time filled with hope and optimism and of "HOLY CRAP, I HAVE A DEADLINE IN 31 DAYS!!!" Yes, that does deserve multiple exclamation points.

I do it every year. I leave the Oklahoma Writer's Conference and the Friends of the Library awards ceremony (which fall within 2 weeks of each other) and say, "This year I'm getting ready for next year's contests starting now." Then I'm busy hiding from tornados in the spring and going on vacation (not to mention having a baby) in the summer. Fall rolls around and I tell myself, "It's time to get busy." I put it at the end of my to-do list right under steam cleaning the carpet (which hasn’t gotten done either), because it's fall, and I have plenty of time.

I think writers are natural procrastinators (except for my friend Rita who writes a book every other day). We tell ourselves we have plenty of time, a whole year, in fact. We do our laundry (gotta have clean undies right?), take care of our kids (most important job in the world), and catch that new episode of Grey’s Anatomy (which is on right now), because we can write later, after the kid’s are in bed and we’ve had quality time with the spouse.

Before we know it, later becomes now and “plenty of time” becomes “no time at all”. Then we’re running ourselves ragged to get our work done on time, forgetting about the laundry (nobody knows what’s inside-out if it’s underneath), kids (Wendy’s anyone?) and Grey’s Anatomy (love my DVR), because we have to do that stuff later in order to meet our deadline. We lack focus.

So my challenge to you, as well as myself, this year is to find focus. It doesn’t have to be on writing. Focus on what you’re passionate about. Maybe you want to put together a knitting pattern book, open a no-kill shelter for pit bulls, lose a couple (or more than a couple in my case) of pounds, or write that bestselling novel, all those goals require focus.

So here’s to 2012, a year of hope, optimism, and focus to accomplish our dreams.

Welcome

Hello everyone!

Welcome to my site, please enjoy my collection of novel excerpts, short stories, and flash fiction. Feel free to leave comments, critiques, constructive criticism, good jokes or even bad jokes.

Thanks for the visit,

Jennifer