BLOGGER - Knowledge Base - How To Get A Book Deal With Your Blog

I think I could do this.

Discovery on Arrival

He really looked forward to the drive home. For one thing, he'd been at work since 11 am the previous morning. For another thing, he just wanted to be with his family.

It often seemed like the drive home during the early morning hours took longer than the drive to work in the daytime; he didn't know whether it was that the traffic signals were on a different pattern or he just felt that it was different in his mind.

He eventually made it home in one piece and parked the car his family had borrowed in the lot in front of their apartment. After shutting the car off, he sat quietly for a brief moment and got out. He sauntered toward the steps and then was suddenly stopped in his tracks.

He saw what at first appeared to be a large mound of clothes in the stairwell at the bottom floor. Upon closer examination, however, he noticed instead that it was the lifeless body of his upstairs neighbor. Chills ran up and down his spine, and he shook with fear.

He unlocked his apartment door. Since it was so late at night, he was careful not to wake the rest of his family. He picked up the phone and dialed 911.

Some Thoughts

Sometimes when my creativity runs wild, I am usually not in a position to record what I'm thinking. I spend time driving home late at night from work, and I often have the beginnings of mysteries in my mind, like what I see on the TV shows CSI and Without A Trace.

These thoughts are very weird indeed. I guess they are supposed to be that way, since they involve crime. Like the time when I imagined my daughter disappearing from the library because she was in the Children's section and I was in a different one.

The idea of psychological profiling all interests me. I think I'm naturally introspective, and I've read and seen other mysteries in which psychological profiling is used.

Ideas for a Novel

Life imitates art or vice versa. To see what I mean, ask yourself whether you could develop a mystery scene based on the first two sentences in this article from the Dayton Daily News:

A 20-year-old man burglarizing an apartment pried open a tackle box and found nude photos of young girls, including his little sister.

The man turned himself and the pictures into police, who later arrested the apartment's tenant, a registered sex offender now facing a possible life sentence after being charged with rape of a child under the age of 13 and illegal use of a minor in nudity-oriented material.

WritersDigest.com | The 101 Best Websites for Writers

I feel like I've struck gold, thanks to Jenny, the Creative Tech Writer, who points to the link above. I think she does indeed have a life. I think I can waste a lot of time (waste seems like too strong of a word, though) browsing these sites.

Dayton Area Writers!

The Next meeting of the Writers Group will be Monday, October 20th at 7:00 pm, Books & Co. in the Business section near the front table.

Contact me if you're interested in attending. Or, if you go in response to this post, please let Bill know that you found out about the group from this weblog!

Thanks!

Sound Advice for Those Who Want to Write

Roberta, a blogger from Canada, reflects on her own writing career and shares some things she's learned from her own research.

Markets and Jobs for Writers

From the About page:

"WritersWeekly.com is the highest-circulation freelance writing ezine in the world, reaching more than 70,000 writers each week. It has been published continuously since 1997."

Check out the links and other information about how to make money through putting your writing talent to work.

crossposted to Get That Job!

Reflection

I sit at the keyboard
Thinking about
My time tomorrow
With the therapist

I wonder about
What to say
How've I been
What's going on
Inside My Mind

Sometimes
I go in
with nothing
to say

Sometimes
I have a lot

I hurt and
I feel joy
I laugh and
I cry

A creature of habit
One, many bad ones
Hard to break

Why the picking
Why the obsession
Why the self-harm

Why not just leave
myself alone
with time to heal
Impatient, I

I look
for other
ways
to keep my hands
busy

Left to myself
I could seriously harm
Is it only my hands
Or do I bite as well?

I hurt myself and then
I care for myself
I feel regret
I feel anger
I feel relief yet

Whirlwind of Ideas

Lately, it seems that most of my creativity happens when I'm driving home from work. I wish I had the ability to record those thoughts because some of them have been very interesting. I want to work on remembering them so that I can include them in future writings.

Mystery Writers

Jenny, aka, the creative tech writer, thinks this information may be useful to mystery writers.

My Calling

We are called to live lives full of adventure. I especially crave it. I regret having been afraid in my earlier years to venture outside my comfort zone. My current circumstances have forced me out of it, and I am able to see more possibilities and have more joy and excitement.

Yet I know well that I am holding back a bit. I would love to write for a living, yet I know that it's not easy to make a living from doing that. Not as easy as getting a bartending job at a restaurant, for example. I also would love to teach young children. English. That was my favorite subject in high school. I didn't take it in college because I tested out of it.

I want to remain receptive to whatever life has in store for me. It may be something different from what I see now. We'll see.

Newswriting.com - The 100 Worst "Groaners"

"A 'groaner' is a hackneyed, overblown, stuffy or just plain silly cliché that turns up time after time in news scripts. Groaners show laziness on the part of writers, disrespect for the folks watching, and a general contempt for lively English. Here are some of the worst offenders. You’ll recognize them immediately, so get ready to groan!" Read more...

I got the link from another writer in my blogroll, but I forgot which one it was. Sorry!

Renaissance Sistah

I found this blog in my referral logs. Pretty cool. I've often thought of myself as a Renaissance man, ever since high school English, in fact.

Da Beard Is Gone

An impromptu telling of my newly found clean-shavenness.

The Key to a Successful Freelance Career: A Diary crossposted to Get That Job!

A humorous account of a day in the life of a freelance writer.

The Great Flood

As some of you may know, the Ohio River Valley was deluged with rain earlier this month. While browsing blogs on my blogroll, I noticed that Jen had linked to The Great Flood. It was too funny!

Blogroll Highlight: Come On, Get Lively

I enjoy stopping by Kathryn Lively's weblog. According to her "About" page, she "is a woman of many responsibilities and very little time. She is an author, book editor, book reviewer, webmistress, newsletter editor, Catholic, Beatles fan, and an avid reader. In her spare time she sleeps, and even then her dreams are so vivid that she often wakes in the middle of the night."

She was recently named the Virginia state coordinator for EPIC, a professional organization for published and contracted e-book and print authors. I emailed her to see if she knew how I might find out if a chapter exists close to the Dayton, Ohio USA area.

She also mentions an article about the Flight Humor contest to celebrate the 100th anniversary of flight in Dayton, Ohio. I've got to read this!

Recommended Reading

Andrew posts a list of recommended reading for writers.

Book 'em, Dano!

This is the first post to this blog using the new version of Blogger, Dano. I'm excited.

Migraine Pain... Again

I suppose inspiration has to come from somewhere. I posted it (the blues song) at Journey Inside My Mind, in case you haven't already figured that out.

"I like to work in coffee shops. There are too many distractions at home -- four kids under 9 and not one of them has a job!" -- Harlan Coben, crime writer, on the writing process, via Oddly Enough Notable Quotes, crossposted to QuotesBlog

Keisha and Sagwa

Background: I made up this story on the spot for Keisha last night when we went to Steak and Shake. I often like to make up stories involving Keisha and some of the characters she likes to watch on PBSKids or NickJr. One of her favorites is "Sagwa," which is about a Siamese cat that can write Chinese.

Once upon a time, when Keisha was in the third grade, she went with her Mommy and Daddy to the Meijer to get some pictures developed. When they were finished and returned to their car, Keisha looked inside and exclaimed, "Mommy! Daddy! There's a cat in our car!"

Sure enough, her Mommy and Daddy saw the cat in the car, sleeping. "It must have just slipped in the car before we closed our doors," Keisha's Daddy said.

"Can we keep it, Daddy?" Keisha asked.

"I don't know, sweetheart," her Daddy said, looking to her Mommy for her opinion.

"Hey, it looks like it's a girl cat," Keisha said.

"Why don't we call your Nana," Jennie said. "She's got a lot of experience in raising different animals."

"I'll stay here with the cat while you two go make the phone call," Keisha's Daddy said.

"I want to name her Sagwa," said Keisha.

"Okay. Come on, Keisha. Let's go call Nana," Keisha's Mommy said, reaching for Keisha's hand.

Some time later, Keisha and her Mommy returned. "Nana says that we should take it to the vet to see if she is sick and has her shots and everything," Keisha said.

"Well," said Keisha's Daddy," looking to his wife, who was smiling, "I guess we'll need to get some pet supplies, huh? Why don't you both head back into the store and get some kitty litter, a cage, some food -- you know, all that stuff. Sagwa and I will stay out here and wait for you."

"Okay, Daddy," said Keisha. "Come on, Mommy, let's go!" It was hard for her to contain her excitement.

Later, when Keisha and her Mommy came back, Keisha made sure that Sagwa was next to her as they drove home. She was very careful about setting up her cage in her bedroom. Her Daddy and Mommy instructed her about the responsibilities that came with taking care of a cat. For one thing, she would be responsible for making sure that Sagwa had food. Also, she would have to make sure the litter box was kept clean. Keisha agreed to take care of all of these things.

Daddy contacted Dr. Armstrong, the veterinarian, and made an appointment for Sagwa. Keisha went along and helped Sagwa stay comfortable while Dr. Armstrong took her temperature and gave her a shot.

The neat thing about having Sagwa was that, even though she had her own cage to sleep in, she loved sleeping on Keisha's bed. In fact, when Keisha came home from school the next day, she went to her bedroom to change out of her school clothes, and there, on her bed, curled up into a little ball, was Sagwa!

And that's the story about how Keisha met Sagwa.

WriteThis 2

Rasmus has announced that WriteThis 2 is available to download and use. For those that don't know, he has developed this as a "writer's tool for inspiration." I've used previous versions of it, and I'm looking forward to using this version.

The new tool boasts a customizable database with over 25 million exercise combinations. It also contains the functionality to open, save, print, and edit your exercises and other "rich text files".

Also, Rasmus would love for you to send him some examples of how you've used the tool.

One important thing to note: the download file is 9.73 MB, so if you do not have high-speed capability, you may want to use something like Download Accelerator Plus.

Climbing the Wrong Ladder

Donald couldn't explain why he was obsessed with getting his project done, except that it would perhaps give him a small sense of accomplishment. The project was always available for anyone to see, and he was convinced that its imperfections reflected badly upon himself as a person. He in effect got his sense of self worth from what he accomplished.

So he toiled for several nights, getting very little sleep. In the back of his mind he knew that his striving was futile, but he plowed ahead nevertheless. Perfectionism had always been a hard habit to break. The fear of failure made him anxious, and it manifested itself into self-destructive, self-mutiliating behavior. He would punish himself for being imperfect.

This intolerance in himself naturally spilled over into his relationships with others. He became intolerant with imperfections in others, too. Perhaps, he thought, if I'm going to suffer, then everyone else will.

Attention Attenuation

He tried as hard as he could, but he wasn't able to shake that song from his head. It kept chasing him around in circles. His eyes tore around the room, looking for something to get his attention, but no matter what he did, the combination of lyric, melody, and rhythm was too intoxicating.

Then he saw it: a glimpse of leopard skin fabric. But it was already too late. The new song jumped into his mind. It was as though it and the earlier one were dueling for control of his mind. The added combination of melody, lyric, and rhythm created yet a new song entirely. Somehow they complemented each other, like bread to butter.

After a few moments of struggling, he finally gave up. The song would have to run its course and leave. It would happen eventually. He resolved to try to enjoy the moment for what it was worth.

THE MESSAGE OF THE CROSS
by Dan Johnson, Jr. 8 May 2001

(verse 1)
Nothing at all is hidden in your sight
You see through the darkness of night
You know my deeds, you know them well
You have the power to send me to hell

(bridge 1)
I don't know how you do it
In my wisdom I can't explain it --

(chorus)
The message of the cross is foolishness
To those who are perishing
But to us who are being saved
It is the power of God

(verse 2)
I was sitting over there right under that tree
When you sent him to come talk to me
It took a while before I could see
You knew the message of the cross was meant for me

(bridge 2)
It's clear that my ways
Are not your ways
It becomes clearer every day --

(chorus)

You have humbled me time and again
Because you want me to repent of my sin

(chorus)

Without a Trace - Nana

It was the first time this Christmas season that they all went shopping. Really it wasn’t quite like any Christmas that they had ever had before. For one thing, they were all older, but the big thing this year was that Nana, or Dan’s Mom, was living with the family. Dan, Jennie, and Keisha welcomed their Mom, who moved up from Texas, back in October.

“I need to go back home to get my wallet,” Dan said. “Otherwise I can’t drive.” They had been using Carl and Sheila’s car to get around, since Sheila was at home on bedrest. After Keisha got buckled in, Dan strapped himself in, and they headed back home.

Dan pulled into the driveway, stopped the car and pulled the emergency brake. “I’ll be right back,” he said as he got out. Inside the house, Jake, their nine-month old puppy greeted Dan. He found the jacket that had his wallet and put Jake in his cage.

“You know,” he said, climbing back into the car, “the way this car is on the driveway reminds me of a roller coaster heading to the top of a hill.” The rest of the family agreed. Dan put the car in gear and headed for the Meijer in Englewood.

“Let’s park right there,” Jennie said pointing to the open space next to the cart corral. They got out and started briskly walking toward the store entrance. Keisha, Jennie, and Nana all went to the ladie’s room first.

“Anyone want something to drink?” Dan asked as they all walked inside the store. He knew that Keisha probably did, and he felt he needed some caffeine to help him stay awake. “I’m okay,” Jennie said. “Me too,” said Nana.

So Dan and Keisha each got a pop, and they looked for a single-use camera. “That’s so that we can take pictures of each other while inside the store.”

After they bought their sodas and the single-use camera, Dan and Keisha stopped to open their soda bottles and the camera. “First, we’ll take a picture of us,” he said to Keisha. So they each took a drink of their soda as Dan aimed the camera and shot a photo of them.

“Good. Now let’s go find Mom and Nana. But let’s be real careful, so that we can sneak up on them.” They headed toward the back of the grocery area to the dairy department, looking down each aisle for Jennie and Nana. Then Dan spotted them in the dairy aisle and said, “Okay Keisha, let’s sneak up on them from behind.” Needless to say, Jennie and Nana weren’t that pleased to have gotten their pictures taken.

“Okay, I think that’s about everything,” Jennie said, as they headed away from the grocery section of the store. She spotted some hearing aid batteries at the pharmacy. “We need some of these.” Nana and Jennie each had their own carts. Dan noticed that all the pharmacist’s licenses were posted on the wall in front of the pharmacy. Keisha stuck by Mom, and Dan was left pushing Jennie’s cart.

A little while later, they headed down the back aisle toward the general merchandise area of the store. “I wanna read some books,” Keisha said, heading toward the children’s book section.

“We’ll be able to look at lots of books tomorrow when we go to the library,” Nana replied.

“Yeah, that’s a good idea,” Dan said, helping Keisha put the Caillou book back. Jennie and Keisha headed out of the children’s book area, while Dan took the rear, pushing the grocery cart.

“Where’s Nana?” Dan asked later, as they headed toward Toy City. They decided that perhaps Nana had gone into Toy City to look at the toys. Keisha loved Toy City. Dan loved Toy City, too. They all loved Toy City.

“C’mon, Keisha,” Jennie said, “let’s go find Nana.” They all headed toward the front of the store. Dan wanted to got to the electronics area to price MP3 players, but he decided against it, especially since they needed to catch up with Nana.

“Do you see her?” Dan asked Jennie, who was also looking around the check out area. “Me neither. Okay, let’s do this. Keisha, you stay here with Mom and see if Nana turns up. I’ll retrace our steps back around to the grocery area.”

Dan took off back toward Toy City, looking down every aisle. This was a big store, but not big enough for someone to get lost that easily, he thought. As he trotted past the books and the pharmacy, he still didn’t see Nana. Hmmm. He thought. Well, maybe she was trying to find us and headed back through the grocery area. So he walked down every grocery aisle. Still, no Nana. He made his way toward the checkout area, feeling a bit apprehensive. Where could she have gone? It was as though she was right there with them, and then she wasn’t.

“Did you see her?” Dan called out to Jennie.

“No. Did you?” Jennie asked.

“No.” Now he was feeling rather anxious. “Let’s go back to the pharmacy area.”

Back at the pharmacy area, they asked the pharmacist on duty if they’d spotted Nana. “She’s about 4 feet 11 inches tall. She’s wearing a jean jacket.”

“We can page her for you, if you’d like” the pharmacist said.

“Okay, sure. That’s fine.” That should work Jennie thought, since they’d already heard a couple pages for other people. It was the Christmas season and the store was rather full of shoppers getting ready for the holiday.

“Attention Meijer guests, if there’s a Margie Wilcher in the store, please come to the pharmacy to meet your party.”

“No! It’s Welker. W-E-L-K-E-R. Welker.” Dan knew that they would probably get the name wrong. He was really starting to feel anxious now. He looked at the time. Nana had been missing since 8:30 PM, and it was already 9:15. He also knew that he really needed to take his medicine.

Then he saw someone who looked like store management. “Excuse me! Excuse me!” he called out to the manager. “Can you please help us?”

“Yeah, what can I do for you?”

“My mom and all of us got separated. We haven’t seen her in over 45 minutes, and we’re starting to get worried.”

“Did you try to have her paged?”

“Yes, but she hasn’t responded. Do you have any in-store security people that may be able to help out?”

“Yes, and we’ve also got in-store video. I can call Englewood police if you’d like, too. But why don’t you follow me to my office?” the manager said.

A half an hour later, they were still sitting in the manager’s office. They’d talked with Englewood police, too.

Where could she be, Dan thought. It was cold and windy, and she’s not really used to this weather up here. Could she have gone on her own volition, or was she kidnapped? He didn’t like that thought.

Important Note from Dan Johnson crossposted to all my blogs

Hello, readers of this weblog! For the past year, this blog has grown in enormous popularity on the Internet, as illustrated by the number of hits. I am proud to inform you that this blog, along with the others that I maintain, have been trademarked! So, look forward to seeing the ™ symbol behind the blog title!

It's great when you can become so well known that something like this is possible.

It's all thanks to you guys, the readers and visitors to this blog.

Dan Johnson

Update: This was my... um... poor attempt at an April Fool's Day joke. Thought you'd like to know.

He Set Me Free
In December 1994, I came up with twelve presents to give my wife Jennie for Christmas. The last present was to be an engagement ring. I wrote the poem below, rather quickly, in fact, to be one of those presents.

He set me free
From all my guilt and sin
From my despair and hopelessness
From the chains that bound me tight

He gave to me
A chance to start anew
A purpose for my life
A life with so much fullness
A love that never ends

He's changing me
I'm not the man I used to be
I'll never be the same anymore
He's changing me more and more
His Spirit at work within my heart

I'll cling to him
It's the least that I can do
I wanna show him more and more
I love him so much
I'll never leave him

He set me free

Yahoo! Messenger

Now showing... to the sidebar... whether I'm online or not. That way you'll be able to chat with me in real-time!

Overcoming Writer's Block - One Writer's Comments

Erma Bombeck Writers' Workshop

Write This Way!

Already added it to the blogroll.

Society for Technical Communication - SouthWestern Ohio Chapter

I met a gentleman from this organization yesterday, and he gave me some information, most importantly of which was this URL. I know that this is a creative writing weblog, but this appears to be a pretty good networking organization for technical writers. I'm sure that anyone visiting this weblog may either be themselves or know of technical writers who would be interested in learning more about this organization.

I know I am.

WritersWeekly.com - Freelance Writing Jobs, Markets, Self-Publishing, Courses

Words as Weapons, Sharper Than Knives

(Use
Kiddie Gloves --
He
can't handle
too much.)

I hate being weak because
those whom I've trusted
in the past
have walked
all over me
when
I've trusted them
("So-called" friends.)

I don't like
being ill and
expected
to perform
up to par.
(Can't afford it.)

(What
have you been doing
with your life,
you bumbling idiot?)

Harsh
words

Mean
words

Hurting
words

Words
from myself
To myself

Words
To cut down
not to build up

Words
of frustration
and anger

Self-inflicted
words

Words
that kill
the spirit

Sin and Punishment

God doesn't want us to sin
He listens to us attentively
God is upset when we treat sin
(in ourselves and others)
lightly

God refines and tests us

Boast about God:

O Lord God Almighty
Great are your deeds
Awesome in power
Grand in splendor
Your name is to be praised
All through the day and
All through the night

I rejoice in knowing you, my Abba
My cup of blessing overflows
You've been so merciful
You are holy, righteous,
A God to be feared
Let me never take you for granted.

Thanks for everything

based on a bible study I had on Jeremiah 8-9 on August 2001

Now That's Just Weird

Browsing through the referrer links, I found out that this blog came up in the search results for

• mommys who pull kids pants down

Of course, by listing that here, I'm probably increasing the chances that it will come up again.

Who are you blogging for?

This question has come up around the blogging world lately, and it's one I have to ask myself often. Am I blogging to get the attention of several people, so that they will visit my site and maybe link back? Am I eager for someone 'important' in the blogging world to comment about something I've written?

I have purposely refrained from adding comments to my "Letters to God" blog because my intent is to focus on writing to God, not to get some kind of reaction from someone who might read it. I have, however, recently, noticed myself checking my other blogs too often to see whether someone has noticed something I've written.

I need to remind myself the original reason why I started blogging: for myself. Miles Davis said, "An artist's first responsibility is to himself." And it was Toni Morrison who said

There's a difference between writing for a living and writing for a life. If you write for a living, you make enormous compromises, and you might not even be able to uncompromise yourself. If you write for life, you'll work hard; you'll do what's honest, not what pays.

I pray that I keep these thoughts in mind as I write.

The Rumor Mill

Just got the link.

A Relentless Passion

Three dollars rest on the table, each folded in half. The finished lunch dishes, on the light green tray have been pushed to the other side of the table to make room to read and write. An opened quotation notebook sits nearby, the ink drying -- recent treasures gleaned from the wisdom of others. His Men's Devotional Bible, with many accidentally dog-eared pages from years of rough handling, sits to his right. The cover would no longer close all the way. A 5-by-7 index card lays just inside the front cover. It's this index card that maintains his present focus, for it describes thoughts written down at a turning point in his life:

He grew up with hurts, just like anyone else, and effects of them continued with him throughout his college years and into the early years of his marriage. Then, some years after their first daughter was born, they attended some foster parent training. That's when the bubble burst. All the gushy, sappy feelings for wanting to foster-to-adopt in the first place were, in a way, violated by the realities of abuse and neglect.

As he listened intently to the descriptions, the definitions of abuse and neglect, and the illustrative examples, he felt the pain in the core of his heart begin to rise. Damaged emotions, never allowed to heal, were making their way back into his consciousness. He didn't want to feel the pain. He tried to deny that this was going on. He wanted to be able to forgive, forget and move on.

But he couldn't. He found a blank 5-by-7 index card and quickly scribbled his thoughts, his brief memories, and, especially what he knew was right -- he'd need to surrender these feelings to God.

Another, smaller 3-by-5 index card marks his current page in the Men's Devotional Bible. A few inches away rests the library book that was his current muse. He'd have to return it by next Saturday the 15th. He wasn't quite halfway through it yet. Each chapter and verse were being meditated upon. He was, after all, learning from the wisdom and experiences of others, and he was yet more inspired to become a writer.

Well he already was a writer and has been for some time. But it was the measure of success he desired, to be published, to experience the joy of knowing that others valued his work enough to pay him for it.

He is an artist and the written word his artwork. He recalls the wisdom of the late Miles Davis: "An artist's first responsibility is to himself." The words of one Benjamin Disraeli also remind him: "When I want to read a good book, I write one." And finally, the late Oscar Wilde chimes in: "I never travel without my diary. One should always have something sensational to read on the train." Whether on the train or somewhere else, the work lies within him and it will indeed soon emerge, as long as he continues to write.

Planet Relish E-zine | Meet the Editors Chat

Check out Jennifer's blog, the Tuesday, February 4, 2003, post for the link to the chat session, which will be this Friday, February 7, 2003 at 10:30 PM EST. Why not check it out? I must consider this myself.

Nulla Dies Sine Linea

Oh, that's right, you don't speak Latin. Neither do I. I'm not even sure whether that phrase is Latin. Whatever the case, I just found another snippet of good advice on how to write every day. And, since you're really interested now, 'Nulla Dies Sine Linea' means 'never a day without lines'.

So, write every day. In a handwritten or computer journal. Record your memories. Create characters; dispose of some. Keep it private or make it public. Let's all do it.

Idea Generators

There are perhaps times when one is at a loss for ideas about which to write. Jen has written some articles about this, which are well worth reading! Also, some of you may know that I am a regular contributor to the Topics Blog. Rasmus, a cool dude from Denmark, has developed a tool to help stimulate your writing senses, called WriteThis.

There are many, many reasons to write, just as there are many things about which to write.

If We Only Have Love

Broken Things

The handle of a homemade clay cup
The broken bike reflector
The torn piece of fabric
The white, small piece of a strategy game
And so many other pieces

Mistakes
Mistakes that were made
Emblems of mistakes that were made
Reminders of my own fallibility
Every time I look inside that old cigar box
My mistake box

I threw it away
I didn't want it any more
Tired of the reminders
Of the things I'd done wrong
It became more of a thorn
Inside my flesh

It outlived its purpose
Forever etched in my mind
Like a splinter
Reminding me of my fallibility

Haunted by the doubts
Anxious about how I'd done
Perfection sought
Obsessed with perfection
I would not give in that easy

Yet now I'm realizing
I don't need to be perfect
God's not interested in perfection --
Only He is anyway

God take my broken spirit
And mend me, make me new

This Afternoon Snow

The snowflakes dance and dart about
Wandering from their heavenly home
Carried by Winter's chill
To destinations unknown

Each one survives but a minute
But many together, amidst Winter's chill
Last awhile more
Painting the landscape white

Winter is better this way
More tolerable
Than with Winter's chill only
And nothing with which to paint

For this afternoon snow reminds me
How beautiful
How peaceful
How pure and white
The world can become

A Note to my Subconscious

Hi. I just wanted to say, I think you suck big time. I know that you enjoy having me be idstracted, see I can't evenr type the word distracted... bah!

Anyway, I would like to say that all my distractiveness comes from the holiday, but I think I'll just fire you, instead. So maybe you're not really my subconscious, but rather some other, mindless entity within me wanting to keep me from doing my job. Well, enough! I win, you lose. You see, I'm the boss of me. You're not the boss of me! I consciously fire you and have put up a sign in my mind that you're not allowed to hinder me from doing my work! Until I let you come back, that is.