Standing Strong

Prov. 24:10 "If thou faint in the day of adversity, thy strength is small."

Standing Strong 

Without even being aware of what tension would rise I thought a writing course would be a good soothing exercise. I thought wrong. I love writing for my blog as much as I can and it feels therapeutic. I’ve been moving along at a nice pace as healing is taking place. Feeling good about myself I wanted a distraction via a fiction-writing course from all the illness talk. I realized I don’t know how to separate my fact from fiction.

The writing course claims that you should have a completed fictional SHORT STORY by the end of six lessons. I’ve taken this course many times over the years so I knew what to expect, expect the unexpected I thought heading into the course. What I didn’t expect was a classroom of five to seven people working on their novels in progress. Writers are awesome people, as diverse as a bag of Skittles even more diverse when they’re mixed with a bag of M&M’s! 

I decided to center my SHORT STORY on Faith and Hope, characters of a fictional tale but too close to my nonfiction story for my taste. I realized I didn’t like writing fiction at all. I do have an entire novel sitting in my files untouched for years, still nestled in the first draft stages. I also have a couple of short stories in my files that I won’t take the time to send them through the rigors of being picked apart by critique. I did learn a lot this round of taking this course. Everything I taught at one time being a mentor was dismantled, I watched my work being shredded not guided in any way. I wound up rewriting my short story for a final revision and it lost all the poetic substance of the entire tale. To me, my story became do-do on a shoe.

Tension, that only I knew was taking place, began about the third week. I wanted to drop the course but I also really wanted to complete the beloved class where I originally met so many of my current dear friends thirteen years ago. I continued on being the trooper that I am until I finally completed the sixth lesson of my short story.

I wondered why I set myself up for this adversity but it’s not much unlike when I post something on facebook to get a reaction when it’s the reaction I don’t like, I tend to tense up completely. Why do I bother? That is exactly what I felt like by lesson six, why did I bother? Let me give you a bit of advice, when taking a trip down memory lane don’t expect the same sensation you felt originally. The memory is in the past for a reason, it is over and done with and cannot be recreated in any way, shape or form. Lesson learned.

I was taught that if you’re going to say something negative about someone’s work, reinforce it with something positive. I didn’t feel much of anything positive coming through my screen. The feeling may have just been my tension build-up and I, not wanting to continue, reflected the negativity I saw. In other words, it was more than likely just my irritated mind arousing the tension.

What did I learn from this session of the writing course? Anything goes. You can work on your novel in progress and you’ll receive pats on the back for defying what the true intention of the SHORT STORY course is about. You’ll be rewarded for going against the grain. You’ll be held accountable for not understanding proper punctuation and you might even feel shamed into taking a punctuation course so your writing can get better. Your words will be pulled apart like shredded cheese and tossed on the floor for you to pick up the pieces and put back together.

So basically my writing sucks. THIS is why I’m sticking to my blog writing! Fiction is not for me at this juncture in my life. Nonfiction writing whether misspelled or punctuated wrong on my blog is MY journal style writing that releases my tension and saves me days and weeks of unnecessary pressure. I thought I was ready for open criticism but I think I still have a way to go.

"Great spirits have always encountered violent opposition from mediocre minds." 

~ Albert Einstein

Yesterday to release a ton of tension I went shopping. As anyone who knows me knows that I’m not a person who splurges on things. These past ten months my main purchases were vitamins, organic vegetables, three pairs of pants from the Goodwill and that’s about it. I’ve never acquired a taste for spending money. I wouldn’t say I’m a miser, I just like to purchase necessities over extravagances.

My mother sent me a Christmas gift back in October and she told me to buy myself something nice. You also know that my mother has no idea I’m fighting this illness. My first thought was to use the money in my fight of this disease but yesterday I woke, putting on my twenty-five-year-old winter shoes, I realized I never splurge and buy myself anything. With hubby off of work, I asked him if he wanted to go shopping and off we went. I bought two pairs of winter shoes/boots and eight nonfiction books all for sixty bucks! I’m a frugal shopper. Yay, me!

Shopping, reading nonfiction, and coloring in my adult-aged coloring books I received last Christmas released much of my tension. I am now once again on a recovering path. I think I’ll just stick to my journal style writing for a while. Just so you know, I’ve had diaries all of my life and not once did I concern myself with restructuring, grammar etiquette or revisions. I wrote to release tension and that is what I’m going to continue on my blog. Thanks for any and all understanding.

Prov. 19: 25 "Smite a scorner, and the simple will beware: and reprove one that hath understanding, and he will understand knowledge."

F2K Again...

Philippians 4:13 “I can do all things through him who strengthens me.”

F2K Again…

Well friends, I decided to take the beloved F2K again. That’s the six-week Creative Writing Course that I used to mentor for many years and I allowed it to fall to the wayside. I still carry the knowledge, who am I kidding, it changed my writing life, and much of my entire life, completely.

As many of my writing friends are taking the course again because we love it so much, I decided this year of all years, I NEEDED this course to ground me.  The learning, the camaraderie, the fun and the lasting friendships are worth the course alone. The reason I’m taking it this year? I need to focus on something other than this stinkin’ disease.

I’ve been in a nonfiction group at WVU writing nonfiction, meaning my true-life tale, so when I signed up for F2K, short for Fiction2000, I had every intention of writing nonfiction. Then I thought about it after my first lesson, this has to be fiction; then out of nowhere, my day was spent writing an amazing fictional tale with my true life story weaved within every sentence.

I wanted the story to be about faith, hope, and love in the midst of turmoil. It’s all about weathering the storm with an illness in tow. Intertwining every word would take some skill, skill I know many of my friends have but I never felt that I was that good of a writer to pull it off. To actually write a fictional tale that could hold its own weight. Telling my story through the eyes of a character. I should also say I know I'm a good writer but I believe all writers lack the intense confidence in their work.

I may eventually post the work on here, my blog, but right now it is too raw and unedited. After it gets perfected, sent out to a few places, I may eventually put the story on here. Unless of course, you’re in my class, you’ll see the tale firsthand. Please don’t give me any suggestions on the story as I’m still weaving the threads. The story is already complete, I’m just in the editing stages, so no advice will be helpful at this point to shape my tale, but thank you. This is my gem.

I believe that everything happens for a reason and in its time. Anyone who has ever read my work knows me virtually or personally knows that about me. Recently, some things have been happening that I know are from Him. Like F2K happening at this precise time, the story unfolding like a blanket at a picnic, and in essence finding a source for my healing.

First let me say, I never buy into conspiracy theories and never get easily swayed by supposed prophetic events and this weekend was no different. This is the weekend 9 24 17 that the world was going to end (again) because a scripture lined up with the signs. I haven’t lived that long on this planet but I know, the prophecy never ends, it’s been going on for a millennium.
While everyone is out trying to make sense of these ‘prophetic’ words looking at every sign and wonder, conjuring up fear in themselves and their families, me, I’m looking for signs that pertain to me.

Ephesians 4:14 (KJV) "That we henceforth be no more children, tossed to and fro, and carried about with every wind of doctrine, by the sleight of men, and cunning craftiness, whereby they lie in wait to deceive;"

I’m finding them in hope. Hope in each new day I wake and see another day. Hope in finding pleasure that each week of food shopping has everything there to sustain me. I look for natural healing remedies and I have hope that they’ll surface and they have been. I will take legal and illegal measures to heal and if they come to my door, what am I supposed to do, turn the opportunity away? I take everything God sends my way as a sign of my full healing, so when F2k came along, to me, it was a sign to continue my healing journey via words. 

My story is about Faith, a happy-go-lucky blonde out in the cool autumn temps climbing her happy tree to rest on a limb so as to watch the world below go on while she escapes the turmoil. She hears a commotion and to her surprise from the world inside the Immune System below the gangs of the village are at war with one another. The SeaCells and the BloodCells are busy destroying all that was created. Faith sits up and takes notice, a wake-up call so to speak.... 

I’m not saying much more because my story unravels in a pretty methodic way exhibiting an illness that is taking over a body and the miraculous healing that eventually takes place for all of the world to see. What will be the cure that saves her life?

Let me just say, if you think a miraculous healing takes place in the blink of an eye, you’re pretty naïve in understanding the way the Lord works. When Sara cried out to God for a child, was she instantly pregnant? If I remember correctly, she had to wait years and when she felt defeated in her plea, she became pregnant. But then again we have the bleeding woman who touched Jesus' robe and the bleeding stopped, immediately!

Sometimes we need to wait on the Lord, for in His timing, and our patience, we receive the blessed event. I don’t go looking for healing I allow it to fall into my lap, see it for what it is and become blessed by receiving the healing taking place. I give all glory to God because alone, I can do nothing. F2K has been a blessing and a healing point in my life. The course keeps me on course to where it is I’m supposed to be and do what I’m supposed to do at a precise timing in the Lord’s plan. Yeah, I’m weird and get all of that from one little writing course. 

Praise be to God!

John 15:5 “I am the vine, ye are the branches: He that abideth in me, and I in him, the same bringeth forth much fruit: for without me ye can do nothing.”

Encouragement Through Discouragement

Col. 3:17 “And whatsoever ye do in word or deed, do all in the name of the Lord Jesus, giving thanks to God and the Father by him.”

Encouragement through Discouragement

Ever wake up and feel discouraged only to find encouragement along your day? Yesterday I woke up, second-guessing my wanting to get back into writing fiction. I spend so much time writing nonfiction and posts for my blog the recent pull back into fiction writing was a welcome surprise. 

Here’s the problem, in my blog posts, I don’t seek out hits or ask for critique, that’s with all my nonfiction, if I want a crit I’ll be vocal enough to ask for it. When I ask for a critique on my fiction writing and don’t get anything, it discourages me and makes me wonder if fiction is REALLY what I’m being called to do. 

Here lately, I’ll admit, I’ve been down, not too peppy these days and I lost the bounce in my step. As warbled and limply as my steps are, it makes me feel insufficient. I can’t do this, I can’t do that, blah blah blah, wah wah wah. Yup, that’s me crying myself a river.

I have dear friends who will see to it that I don’t go down that bumpy road of darkness I like to deem as ‘depression alley’. Oh, I could wallow in that dark cave for days at a time and as our first heat wave of the summer smacks us upside the head out here in the middle of nowhere and no air conditioning in my car, I’m pretty much stuck out here like flies to honey.

Speaking of flies, they are horrendous this year. We had a problem last year because of all of the unused turkey sheds and the piles of mill seed that went unattended except for the flies, but the owner took care of that and we thought it would help with the pesky peasants this year but no, they’re just as bad. That is saddening in and of itself. The little buggers are out for blood! They land on you and sit and bite until you bleed! Yes, the red dots on my legs are from THEM blood-sucking varmints!

Back to my discouragement post, you didn’t think I’d forgotten, did you? Well, posting my fiction made me feel vulnerable, like an open wound not yet stitched up. I was apprehensive because something in the back of my mind was saying no don’t do it and something else was saying oh, what the heck. I was being encouraged to post my writing because after all, I had done some nitting myself so, okay, I’ll post, get some nits and send the work out.

I’m thinking of taking it off the forum but I’ll wait, I’m patient, it’s summer and times are slow but I really just want to get it sent out before I talk myself into not submitting the story. A lot of the times they [the magazines] don’t like it viewable online anywhere, even in a private forum setting. I did get one good crit and that made me feel good, encouraged even. 

I need to learn to not be discouraged. With 100-degree+ temperatures, it’s real easy to fall into the pit if discouragement hence the reason for my post on facebook yesterday:

“Have you ever been discouraged to the point of giving up (writing) and you fight tooth-and-nail to get back in the game only to be discouraged AGAIN? Yeah, that's what I'm up against. This thing called 'writing' a tough job but hey, somebody ELSE needs to be beat up, why not a writer.”  *deep sigh*

My friends came out of the woodwork to encourage me to NOT be discouraged. They offered kindhearted words to lift me up and told me how often that I had been their light to lift THEM up. I had not realized what an impact my writing, or my words had on people (keep in mind not all the comments were from my writing friends from the ‘private’ writing site.)

I had over 17 comments on that post, ALL encouraging and uplifting!

VJ wrote: “Know that your impact and reach extend further than you can see. You were one of the first people to encourage me to write. You have a tremendous amount of skill and talent. Don't despair...opportunities abound when you are least expecting them!”

Miss DonnaM wrote: “Your writings are reflected with grace ...
Do not be discouraged because I got good news for you ...
It is no secret what God can do...
What he’s done for others he can do for you ...”

These are just two of the many. I love my friends. Is that weird? To love people you’ve never met but inspire you more than they even know and you just want to hug them so tight and all you can do is thank them with words? 

I wonder if they knew that this would wind up being a blog post? Probably not, they DO have a life but you know what? They took time out of their day to encourage ME! How cool is that??? Refreshing on a hot day, I can tell you that. 

I will continue to work through the discouragement I feel on the encouraging words of some of the most amazing friends that really give me hope out here in this world. There are caring people who see when people are down, know it all too well, and go out of their way to lift that person off of their battered feet! 

Thank you, my dear friends! I truly do love and respect your open and honest hearts of gold! You ARE the encouragement through discouragement that I needed!

 God bless you all!!! 

The Truth in Fiction

Pss. 143:5 “I remember the days of old; I meditate on all thy works; I muse on the work of thy hands.”

Are ya thirsty for more?

I’ve been reading that my posts are actually missed. Go figure! My breaks in writing have allowed me time to reflect and I think that is a good thing as long as I don’t dawdle there too long. I need to learn and grow from all I meditate on and this is what the coming year will bring to me in my endurance.

One of the main things I’ve learned this year is this: don’t believe everything you read. I’ve had to witness throughout the year people post over and over the things of years past already to be known as a hoax or untruths. People are so eager to put it out there that they don’t do the reality check that needs to be brought forth.

It’s not just in facebook posts that get me but what people read in fiction and call it ‘historical truth’. Take the DaVinci code for instance; people really saw historical truth in that book/movie of fiction? No wonder we have so many people/Christians confused with what to believe.

That’s another thing I’ve reflected on this year: truth! I’ve always listened to God’s word as truth but again it is my interpretation of God and the truth and no one else can claim MY truth. Granted Dan Brown, the writer, had some truth twisted in his words, it is to each their own.

“History is always written by the winners. When two cultures clash, the loser is obliterated, and the winner writes the history books-books which glorify their own cause and disparage the conquered foe. As Napoleon once said, 'What is history, but a fable agreed upon?”

― Dan Brown, The Da Vinci Code

So when someone says to me that they saw historical truth in that story by Brown, are they telling me that they believe in fables and that the bible is one of those fables? Yeah, so much on the net confuses me and that is why I only listen to the truth that God himself instills in my being and I don’t mean ‘the bible’ I mean GOD! I am conquering the enemy! I will only glorify the God in ME!

We all as a human race seek out a truth and some grab onto anything that rolls past them as it wobbles down the road. I’ve never been like that for some reason. This is why I say I am spirit-filled. I’m not fiction fable filled, I’m not media or political filled, and I’m certainly not filled with the ways of the world. It makes my skin crawl.

I do know one thing and that is satan was working overtime through Dan Brown. What better way to have people rethink or restructure their faith than to have a well respected writer convey a message and people buy it as historical truth! Way to go dark one!

I know what people missed in my posting and that is essentially they missed someone that they could relate to, someone who they understand and someone they could call a trusted friend. One thing I won’t fill your head with is lies and feed the blasphemous nature of the world.

I’ll give Mr. Brown this, he did say some interesting truth (mingled with the lies):

Truth: “Men go to far greater lengths to avoid what they fear than to obtain what they desire.”

― Dan Brown, The Da Vinci Code

What?: “Those who truly understand their faiths understand the stories are metaphorical.”

― Dan Brown, The Da Vinci Code Joni says: “My faith isn’t in a book of stories.”

Lie: “Faith ― acceptance of which we imagine to be true, that which we cannot prove.”

― Dan Brown, The Da Vinci Code Joni says: “I don’t imagine my faith to be true.”

Truth: “The art of a good writer is to stir up controversy”

~ Joni

Thanks Brown for giving me the image that DaVinci was seated at the Last Supper and could interpret what he saw thus painting what he believed he saw.

Thanks for giving me the image of Jesus having sex.

I’m so glad my spirit-filled nature, not my imagination, carries me higher than any of these controversial comical relief writers. I’m also glad that my writing isn’t filled with twisted truth, lies, deceit, puzzles and playthings. My truth, my faith, my PROOF is within ME and everyone has this capability but they are too busy tying themselves up in knotted lies.

p.s. As you can see, I had a real problem with this farce called fiction. But then again, that’s just me. P.s.s. I have a hard time not watching a Tom Hanks film. * wink *

My prayer for you this coming year: That you may taste faith on the tip of your tongue. That you may see your faith at work! That you may hear your faith in whispers of the wind. That your fingertips graze the faith you know is within YOU! May you know that your faith is PROOF enough!

God Bless you all!

1 Tim. 4:15 “Meditate upon these things; give thyself wholly to them; that thy profiting may appear to all.”

Truth in Tales

Pss. 30:9 What profit is there in my blood, when I go down to the pit? Shall the dust praise thee? shall it declare thy truth?

Have you ever read Hansel and Gretal? Well, I’m sure at some point you have, if not yourself maybe for your child? Did you ever wonder if the world they lived in was real?

Writers have a tendency to write fiction that comes off as an intricate world of fairytale imagery. I often wonder where the truth is and sometimes I won’t even read it because of the frivolous lie that I’m trying to be forced into.

Take for example sci-fi. I am no fan of sci-fi for the very reason that the conjured worlds I can not really climb into and envision myself. When I read a book I like to envision myself running through the field/street scene and with sci-fi, I can never seemingly grasp running on Mars.

Another example is vampire stories. Now I know there are millions of fans who love a good vampire story. They love the fantasy world, climb into it, and relish all the dark substances that it entails. I don’t like them and I know there are actually people who drink blood and think these vampire tales to be some sort of truth to them. I bet there is even some sort of statistical facts that can prove their existence. I’m not interested. Don’t inundate me with false truths.

Years ago the possibility of life on Mars was an impossibility and recent scientific studies show that life on Mars will become a probability. Maybe some of your sci-fi tales will become a reality. But no, I don’t believe vampires are real, so don’t try to sell me that tale.

I know some people like the occult and I myself, when I was a young child, dove into those tales thinking them to be truth. I quickly had to ride out of those childhood fantasies and hold onto something that was truth just to keep my sanity.

I remember watching The Lost Boys and I so wanted vampires to be real. It was a stimulating arousal wanting Keifer to suck on my neck and make me one with him. My disillusion quickly faded when I found God. Now I know some of you Christians out there can read those non truths and walk with God at the same time, but me, I don’t feel complete. So I don’t read fantasies like The DaVinci Code or Salem’s Lot.

Some will tell me that the DaVinci Code was based on scientific studies and proof, but to me, it is a book full of lies wanting to distract me from the truth. That’s what fantasy is to me, a demonizing of truth. I prefer non-fiction, or at least a fiction based on a true story, than read about, fill my mind with, hunger, for lies!

As you can imagine I was pretty upset as a young child being told that Santa was not real, or the Tooth Fairy or the Easter Bunny for that matter. I felt that it was a betrayal and no, maybe I never did get over it because now, I don’t like lies or fantasy tales.

As a writer we’re supposed to be open to fiction. It’s what we do, write lies in hopes someone walks away loving it.

My truths are not your truths, nor yours mine, and I’m okay with that, but please don’t try to sell me on your truths when mine are already formed. It’s demeaning to me as a human being. 

I read what I like to read, you read what you like to read. As humans we’re allowed that, to be different. I don’t force my beliefs on you, please refrain from trying to force your beliefs on me.

You read me because I obviously have written something that you WANTED to read. You stay away because I obviously DON’T have something you want to read. Granted this post makes absolutely no sense, but that’s okay, in the coming days you might put it all together and it will make sense.

My point being this week will be, truth and all that means to us as writers who are trying to sell the story to the public. Readers want something to hold onto as truth; to carry with them throughout the day or their life. We as writer’s are obligated to give them that.

Truth in Fiction?

Truth is stranger than fiction, but it is because Fiction is obliged to stick to possibilities; Truth isn't.
Mark Twain

 ***

Have you ever heard the statement ‘life is stranger than fiction’? I found the quote by Mark Twain and it says, “Truth is stranger”. This is so true! Just take a look at the debates of our politicians as they go head to head nit-picking each other apart. I think of another statement by Rodney King many years ago, “Can’t we all just get along?”

As I write fiction, for my readers it comes across as so real, vivid, lifelike in many ways. So is my life experience leaking into my writing? Am I divulging more truth than even they realize?

I love writing non-fiction but that is for the magazines that seek true stories. But what is a true non-fiction story. Is it your truth with a little coloring of adjectives or is it ridiculously painted lies to make it look like truth. Nowadays, I just don’t know anymore.

I’ve read some harrowing stories of some of my closest writing friends and their pain and angst are clearly evident as they trudge through this so-called life. I’ve also read snippets from people who have been in the limelight (I won’t deem them movie stars or politicians) that tell a markedly different story than the one we were led to believe. They write books years after the fact, and that is when the supposed truth, comes out.

Where does the truth lie? Somewhere in between? I see over and over people slinging mud at one another, claiming it as truth, yet I see over and over the person that it is slung at lie, claiming truth. I often get confused with who to believe these days when dear, respected, trusted friends turn their back on you, when people of power turn into dictators relishing the power, and when family surrounds you…from a distance.

What is wrong with that scene? I couldn’t have paved the road and put it in a ‘supposed fictional tale’ any better. When is it okay to lie? When it furthers your agenda? When is it right to tell the truth? To me, always but not all people are like me, they’re very different. Not whom I thought they were so they become a character in life, and as I portray them in fiction.

Is there truth in fiction? You bet. Stephen King has said in his book On Writing, that he was Jack in the Shining. Over and over parts of his life are written into his fiction but he adds a splendid twist to make himself look fictional. I wonder how many other writers are really writing their fictional novel, as a way of healing a part of them that they’d never allow the world to see. Stephen King is now clean and sober and his writing has taken on much different hues, giving us the real him, hiding inside his works.

What is my point to this post? If you’re writing fiction, then you too I believe, are filtering parts of yourself into your writing.  Whether it is truth or a lie, parts of you are being seen and the world is hanging on your every word.

The truth shall set you free. That is what I practice, in writing AND in my life. THAT is how REAL character is built!

Memory Lane Part II

Pss. 90:4 For a thousand years in thy sight are but as yesterday when it is past, and as a watch in the night.
***

That post was longer than anticipated yesterday and I thought it warranted a continuation.

As writers, what we are doing in our stories, whether our fictional work or our non-fictional work, we are bringing our past into a character, a scene, an emotion, or maybe a dream.

When I read novel, as a writer, I know in some part there are pieces of the author strewn all about the pages like confetti on New Years. Take To Kill a Mockingbird for example, you can not write something like that without knowing the intricate depths of a situation.

Even authors  like Stephen King has laid pieces of himself in the pages of his stories. He has said about while writing The Shining, he felt like a mad man, drinking boozing it up, life getting out of control, and the Jack Torrance that we (most of us) have all come to know, was born. In his later works after King sobered up, his story Duma Key took on a new color as a new phase took over Mr. Kings life.

I find in my writings, I like to dip into the spiritual pool. My early childhood was shaped by spirits, whether good spirits or the dark nasty ones that you really don’t want to talk about. You’d rather lock them in a closet in the back of the basement somewhere and pretend that they don’t exist.

As a writer, all the doors of your past are open wide, even the little nasty stuff that you buried comes spilling out onto the page. Things you hadn’t remembered for years comes to the surface, you grab your net and scoop up the memory like a fisherman on a good day. You’ve dipped, you now have caught, you own it and you place it on the page.

My childhood was shaped by experience also. Images of the men, the smoke-filled bars, pool balls clanking, men cheering or arguing, the tapping of glasses, the smell, the awful stale aroma of beer that lay in the taps basin. The music, the jukebox that was probably my savior at nine years old.

Ask my brothers if they were sitting in bars at nine years old. Ask them if men felt them up in places that drunken old men thought was playful but to a child felt dirty. Ask the boys, ask one of them, or my sister for that matter, did they sneak drinks of vodka and orange when they were mere babies? Eight or nine year old's belong home not in a bar sipping drinks, sneaking from the glass that was okay for mother to drink from. But then again, home wasn’t much different from the bars.

Yeah that was me, spoiled rotten and given everything. A drinking, toking, smoking child is what shaped my past. Do I long for what was? Never! I bury it in my stories. I was saved by the grace of the Lord. When I write, I write from heartfelt true-blue experience. My inspiration comes from the only thing that has ever grabbed onto me and stuck and that is God!

And that is a piece of MY story.

Flashback Friday

Psalm 79:13 So we thy people and sheep of thy pasture will give thee thanks for ever: we will shew forth thy praise to all generations.
***

Flashback to a day in your past of peace and harmony. What? You can’t remember any? Well let me tell you... I can’t think of any either. ha ha

A flashback in the story is the one place where you will connect with your reader. Either they will relate to an incident or be blown away by the illusion. But we need the flashback so the reader will become one with the character. We can’t overload our work with flashbacks or we’ll lose the reader. They’ll get bored stiff if your character lives too much in the past.

We need to move on and by showing flashbacks and the here and now we can show how the character has moved forward in life. Fiction is a lot like real life and this is where you will drink your knowledge from the pool of reality. Sure we’ll embellish our fictional tale but if we’ve had no experience in such an event then we need to dig into the pond of research.

I like the non-fiction tales also. This is where we drink from our fountain of the past. Your past may be haunting, it may be a testament or it may just be like the guy next doors. Whatever the case there is a story there somewhere.

I myself have a strong testimony to my faith, but I think I might bore you stiff with it, so I won’t go there. The road of drugs and alcohol, the drowning in the abyss, the saving hand reaching down for me to pull me from the depths of hell, the death, the dying, the defeat all wrapped up in one life. Maybe Friday's will be my stories in flashback form? *wink*

When I read or hear others stories, I think mine was way off the boards of the norm and it comes across as fiction. But the flashbacks continue, the memories soar, the past haunts and the future awaits. The one thing I have is my Father in heaven’s arms wrapped around me, consoling me all the way, comforting me and carrying me.

I like for people to feel Him themselves because my words are just that, words. I won’t preach, I will only be a presence...hence the terminology Angel...always...godspeed.

Flashback...there was a time I floated in the midst of all encompassing love, soaring to heights forever unseen. In a display of arcs and wondrous colors, there I was immersed in the rippling waves of the universe only to find in an instant I could breathe air. My birth, oh what a glorious day.

Remember the flashback in a story. It will take the reader places, trust me.