A+ / F -

That was my stock writing grade for many of my papers in school.

More than once this shy quiet kid would come up swinging in defense of her writing. If I listened to every teacher I had I would have never written anything post high school.

I let them tear me down. I let them tell me my writing was bad. That I could never be a writer.

It was my junior year at high school when I stopped cowering. I went to war over this word:

SURMOUNTED.

" I trotted quickly to the beginning of the path. There I halted and gazed into it's darkness. One question rolling in my mind. Which was greater? the fear of my sister, or my fear of the path.

I looked back over my shoulder at the house. I chewed on my thumb nail as I fought inner battles. Curling my toes in the dry powdery field dirt I surmounted my fears...and took a step...."

That is how I used it. Oh how my English teacher hated it.

"You can't use it like that!"

Me: Why not?

Years later I redrafted that original idea into a complete story and read it to my collage writing class. We had a professional writer sitting in that day. As the class critiqued it a few said I was using the word wrong and it didn't help the story.

When it came to the professional writer everyone got quiet.

"Read the surmounting paragraph again." he said leaning forward and closing his eyes.

I did so.

A broad smile crossed his face. "That is damn cleaver writing there." He said to the class. "As writers you must control the language and make it alive. That word not only mentally makes you stumble it forces your brain to wrestle with it. You tangibly feel it."

Two other started to disagree with him. He let them have there say. Then he spoke to the class as a whole. "You are writers. Your job is deeper then writing words on paper for others to read. Your words are capable of reaching into another's brain, monkeying with thoughts and emotions. Writing is a powerful tool."

His eyes settled on me. The class turned.

I took my pencils off the desk and blew on there tips and "holstered" them in my pants pockets as if they were six guns.

The class chortled.

"That right there is the most powerful lesson you will take from your writing class today." He said pointing at me.

*********

I wrote this blog last year and never got it finished, All I needed to do was go dig out a copy of The Stretch of Midnight and copy in the surmounted paragraph.

Its been over 30 years since I wrote it and the above occurred. And you know what I discovered tonight as I did this? The story is forced, juvenile and heavy handed, and so awkward in its telling that its laughable. But I can see the writer in me framing what will become my style as I mature and hone my craft.

Surmounted was my ground zero. I stopped allowing the A+/F- grades to affect me. I stopped writing for the teachers. That's when I started writing for my readers.

Hunting brilliant minds

First you have to set the trap with some bait...no need to point it out, just set it down and walk away.

You won't have to wait long...

In short order you will hear the snap of the trap as it deploys and captures its first prey.

 

 

No need to reset it, it will capture multiple prey on a singular deployment.

Trap is reusable and will work for multiple generations. 

Happy hunting.

Follow

As we are leaving this morning Hansolo laments, "Now I won't have time to play my favorite game!"

 "What's that." I ask, always interested in the latest things the kids find fun.

 "Follow." She says turning her computer off.

 "How do you play that?" I ask.

 "I find another player in the game and follow them around." She smiles.

Sigh, my seven year old is a online stalker.

Crime scene

Asked my kids to fold the laundry...after a few min it got quiet so I stopped working and looked over my shoulder...first picture JUR, second one Hansolo. they have been raised right...they know what to do with warm laundry, LOL.

damn it Jim....

******************* TRIGGER FOR SIV INJURY- GRAFFIC PHOTO *******************  ********************************************************************************

I sat down here to blog then, got sucked into reading my own blog...I'm such a goober. I mean I LIVED all this, and I WROTE all this and still it sucks me in! lol.

Teachers striking, kids out of school, Have a dozen 1/2 done blogs and I'm wasting time re-reading my own stuff.

Can I just say, DAMN I AM A GOOD WRITER! Bwahahahaha! Yup,  I am my own biggest fan. Even if no one else reads my stuff, I am enjoying the heck out of it.

I had an appointment to see the nurse on the 6th that had to be rescheduled. The office called Tuesday to move the appt. I must have sounded not okay because they called me back today to check on me and see if I need to be worked into the schedule sooner.

I find this interesting.

Because in all these years  of me telling various doctors that I am a self injurer and that I am struggling etc... they have mostly blown me off.

But after seeing me two months ago with this on my arm....

They no longer blow me off.

I don't know whether to be relieved that they care about my safety...of appalled that I'm such a freak I warrant special attention.

But, it is sure nice to have a medical team that cares about me, and has actually heard my cries and helped me to get enough relief that I can stay safe.

This injury prompted them to put me on the buspar. Which I am THRILLED to report is still working for me and has helped me more then I can every say.

48 years of fighting my head was enough. Its nice to have some relief.

My arm is all healed now. I am taking extra good care of myself because post big injuries I am very prone to do sequel injuries for no reason.

Life is feeling pretty good right now for me. Which in the past would trigger my Pre-traumatic-stress-disorder. However with the buspar, its not, thus allowing me to simply enjoy living, without waiting for the rug to get jerked out from under me.

...and, that is amazing.

YEAHHH!!!!

Told myself I couldn't blog until I completed all that obamacare crap stuff.

Well I just submitted it, now just have to wait 45 day till the government decides what size pole to sodomize me with. As you can tell I am so excited about this, I could just poop rainbows.

Because I love to be forced to give up MORE of my hard earned money to supply the bums with there daily dose of methadone and "medical marijuana."

Do you know I qualify for "medical marijuana." simply because I have surgical steel in me? I'm thinking I should go get it and sell it to pay for the (*&^%$^*!! insurance the government is forcing me to have. Now how fooked up is that?

would love to blog a nice long post today, but off to go motel camping with the family so we can watch the super bowl.

One disadvantage to having no TV is ....you can't watch anything on TV LOL.

have bugles and soda heading out to catch the game.

Go Seahawks.