So, You Need to Be Right? Why?

The last year and eight months of my life have been blessed beyond my understanding, and I attribute this to God’s grace and wisdom and His gift of my husband, Patrick. In that time, I have learned much about love – some of which I knew for years deep in my soul had to be possible but never thought I deserved (especially because I was told I didn’t deserve it), thinking it was for other, better people. I want to share what I have learned with you, and you’ll read it if you want to consider how to be peaceful in your relationships.

I don’t care what the situation is; fighting wastes time. There is no ‘but’ to that statement. It is what it is. And it is a choice. Fighting stems from one person not getting their way, not feeling respected, insecure, or embarrassed by their partner. Each of those things is emotion-based. Emotions have choice behind them. We choose to remain in feelings. Whether it be anger, frustration, hate, sadness, or embarrassment. It is a choice to remain in any of them. Each of those things is self-focused – not the other person concerned. Remaining in such a state will keep a relationship in turmoil. There are no ifs, ands, or buts about that.

Argument is an altogether different thing from fighting. In argument, there are no harsh words, no name-calling, and no raised voices –no hateful eyes, no drool, no violence. According to the actual definition, an argument is a back-and-forth exchange of ideas in a calm and courteous manner. It is valuing the other person and listening to their thoughts and opinions without chiming in every two seconds or even every minute while speaking to pronounce one’s thoughts and try to be right or “win.” Argument is listening to understand and seeking the best solutions to issues for all parties involved. It is about giving respect – which can NEVER be demanded. It cannot be questioned. It cannot be expected – not for it to be real.

Respect is something earned. It will never come when demanded. Again, that is what it is. Respect is something earned by the maturity of an individual to decide to treat others in kind, efficient, productive, and challenging ways. Not by tearing them down, calling them names, abusing them in any way, playing victim cards, or controlling them. What those bring about is not respect … those things bring fear, anxiety, and hate … that’s what demanding respect creates. Hate. The exact opposite of respect – not to mention love.

I listen to people fight and think, “what a waste.” It is. A total waste of time – my soul has always known this. I thought this as a child. I felt it during my young adulthood, and I’ve always felt it in work relationships, friendships, and as a mother of fighting children. During a fight, no one truly listens – each person prepares their next diatribe or escape – fight or flight – be louder, be angrier, be violent, get that person’s attention no matter what – WHICH DOES NOT WORK in the way a fighter wants. WIN! No. There are no winners – this is not Boxing or MMA. This is your life. This is your home at stake. Productivity and health do not come from in-fighting in marriages or relationships. I never found value in fighting (the opposite of true argument). It is a waste of time and energy. And … it’s a choice.

Regularly I tell my students that I want them to get the application of this deep in their souls earlier in life than I did. My ENFJ personalitied self wants all people to get this – fighting wastes time, and it is by choice.

You decide how you want to live and how you want to be in relationships. You are responsible for YOU before God in Heaven. Only You. How do YOU treat others? That’s what matters. The world would have you believe you have a right to complain about how others treat you, to get your feathers ruffled because this person upset you or hurt you, that you can feel justified in your anger at another person because they did you wrong somehow. Really. That’s not a question. That’s me saying … really, no. You are responsible for your own damn self, so watch out for pointing your finger at others because those three pointing back at you should remind you that you’re allowing yourself to feel anger built on something inside you. The question is why. What is at the root of that anger? Where is it coming from inside of you? This imperative question is where AA principles come into play.

We have basic instincts/needs as humans. These include Self-Esteem, Personal Relations, Security, and Ambition. When these are threatened in any way, resentments are born in us. When we hold resentment regarding any event or person, before jumping into a “right” to destroy said person or event, we must question which of these basic human instincts has been ‘affronted’ in us/you, and in that affront, what is your responsibility? Have you been self-seeking, dishonest, fearful? From there, if you hold even a variant of responsibility (which we usually do), ask yourself what the exact nature of your response/responsibility is using the seven deadly sins as a guide: envy, gluttony, greed or avarice, lust, pride, sloth, and wrath. What is happening inside of YOU that needs to be dealt with before you can point fingers at others? AA is about personal responsibility, and that is everything. Your responsibilities. Your choices. How you handle your instincts and the affronts to your instincts. When we don’t look inside ourselves and root out the WHY of our aggressions and the reasons we fight, we will continue to put ourselves before others and be angry.

There is no room for resentment or selfishness (which is a response in direct correlation to resentment born from instincts being attacked/hurt) in marriage. None. There is no room for selfishness in a healthy relationship – that applies to siblings, friends, coworkers, parents, and marriage. The same principles apply across the board. Whenever I talk about these things with anyone, especially in my classes where we discuss communication skills and arguments… it always comes down to one central idea. Love your neighbor as yourself. Treat others the way you want to be treated. To be able to practice these things, taking a deep hard look into your resentments is an important consideration. Understand yourself and why you react and respond the way you do so that you can be better with who YOU are. You have to be good with YOU so you can even begin to be effective in relationships with others. THEN, love your neighbor as yourself and treat others as you want to be treated come into play. Both of those are choices, and they are truly the same idea. Be kind and respectful – to everyone – even yourself.

Before those, though, for true peace and happiness in any relationship comes ‘Love the Lord your God will all of your heart, soul, mind, and strength’ Want to know how to have peace in your marriage and relationships? Get to know God on an intimate level. Read His word. Talk to Him. Meditate.

Romans 12:9-18 comes to mind as an excellent passage to meditate on.

^“9Love must be sincere. Hate what is evil; cling to what is good. ¹⁰Be devoted to one another in love. Honor one another above yourselves. ¹¹Never be lacking in zeal, but keep your spiritual fervor, serving the Lord. ¹²Be joyful in hope, patient in affliction, faithful in prayer. ¹³Share with the Lord’s people who are in need. Practice hospitality.

¹⁴Bless those who persecute you; bless and do not curse. ¹⁵Rejoice with those who rejoice; mourn with those who mourn. ¹⁶Live in harmony with one another. Do not be proud, but be willing to associate with people of low position.^[a] Do not be conceited.

¹⁷Do not repay anyone evil for evil. Be careful to do what is right in the eyes of everyone. ¹⁸If it is possible, as far as it depends on you, live at peace with everyone.”

Patrick always says, at the end of the day, ask yourself if you’re comfortable in your own skin – are you good with who you are? I like that, but I want to add this thought … at the end of your life, when you stand before God, you are responsible for yourself alone. Your choices. Your responses. How you CHOSE to live your life. This life will not be long. It passes fast. Our time here is to be spent in good, productive ways, spreading love to people who need love, everyone you encounter. Especially your spouse and close relationships. Why would you waste time?

My husband Patrick and I choose to keep God first in our lives. We both strive to treat one another appropriately – knowing this … Patrick is a child of God, and I am a child of God. Neither of us has the right to tear down, hurt, or denigrate in any way a child of God – i.e., each other. We understand this, and we choose to be devoted to one another. We do not fight. We discuss. We choose peace. Our home is peaceful. That’s not to say that potential divisive things do not arise because they do.

But we VALUE each other more than either of us needs to be “right.”

Maybe you’ve heard me, and maybe you haven’t. Maybe my inclusion of God into the equation puts you off. Sorry, not sorry. He is the answer to all of this – that’s basic. If you are resistant to the addition of God in the equation, all I can do is share my insights and experience based on wisdom, research, teaching ‘argument skills’ to thousands of students, my life’s roller-coaster path, and the goodness of God through it all. If you want to get along with people, learn how to participate in a true argument. This action requires knowing and respecting yourself and your audience before engaging with your audience. It is never about demanding that others respect you or agree with you. Never. You may get a ‘modicum’ of what you’re after because it comes to you based on fear, anxiety, or hate, but it won’t be real. Not true respect. That audience will fight you – even if it is silent and unnoticed by you – hate will grow. And then … BOOM!

It’s all a choice, so be the best version of yourself that you can be.

To tag this at the end, some people are incapable of this critical thinking process. Being in a relationship with them will remain toxic for you and your children if you have them. Here, again, lies another choice. If this is your situation, help does exist. I found a Bible-believing therapist who taught me how to establish boundaries and how to value myself as a Child of God. I took steps to learn healthy means of communication – I made big changes in my life, and now, I am at peace. I chose to walk away from toxicity. I reference Romans 12:18 again, “If it is possible, as far as it depends on you, live at peace with everyone.” If it is possible. It is not always possible with some people. You have a choice.

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Censorship is Out of Hand

In most things, I keep my thoughts and opinions to myself. Today, though, I will say this, I value and respect the First Amendment of the U.S. Constitution. Because of that, I am deleting my Facebook page – and will be using other sites.

Facebook’s removal of the Canadian Trucker Convoy page bothers me to my core. Censorship is getting out of hand.

The refusal to allow people the right to access information and opposing ideas is wrong. People have a right to know that opposing ideas exist. They have a right to read for themselves and to make decisions for themselves.

People have the right to weigh information, to check it against litmus tests for themselves. If they have only the information before them that is approved by the people in power, that’s not right. There is nothing right about that.

I don’t care what side of any of the issues you fall on … it is not right to remove people’s opportunity to have knowledge regarding multiple viewpoints and perspectives. It is not right to remove people’s opportunity to think for themselves.

No matter what any of us believes, that should be something that is bothersome to your soul – and something recognized as evil.

Make no mistake that if it suits you now, when power shifts in government – which it will, the same rules that suit you now, won’t suit you then when your thoughts/ideas get censored and they will if this kind of behavior by big tech is allowed to continue to increase.

It is not just the right that loses their voice right now. It is the left too … when that day comes. And it will.

I posted this to my Facebook page, and I’m going to let it sit here for a day, so I can get my information downloaded and saved, and then, I will delete this page. I’m also interested to see how long it takes my post to get flagged as misinformation.

Go for it, Facebook. It’s been real.

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I’m Just a Girl

Been reading some political articles this morning and the comments people make following them.

What is it with lumping people into stereotyped categories and offering no allowances for independent thought?

All Democrats believe this. All Republicans believe that. All of this or that are Deplorables.

Saw a video this morning of Michelle Obama talking about White Flight. She generalized people into the categories of Black and White – blanket statements.

I’m sorry, Michelle, not ALL white people are racist, and to go along with that, I have known racist black people.

A group of black female students in St. Louis one day said to me, “Ms. Dacia, you’re a black girl.” Another time, a student said to me I was the first white woman she had ever liked.

I took both statements as compliments. And yet … it confused and saddened me. I’m just a girl – who didn’t choose her skin color any more than any of you did.

It all hurts me. This hate and prejudice. This generalizing one another into categories and looking past individuality and refusing to see each person as valuable and beautiful with their own views, perspectives, unique ways of viewing the world.

There are 7 billion people on this planet. Not one of us is the exact same. Not a one. We all have different experiences and emotions – different life events – different cultures – different backgrounds. Yes, some can be similar, but every person is unique and cannot be lumped into generalized categories. It is wrong.

People, we need to embrace our differences. Find strength in our differences. Find ways to work together and not against each other. Learn from each other. Be critical thinkers. Understand there is no utopian society on this earth where all people are just like you. That would be unfulfilling. Truly.

As with every post I write, it comes to this – Love Your Neighbor As Yourself. It just does.

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He Never Knew There Was So Much Beautiful Beyond the Streets of St. Louis

Reposting AGAIN. Today it is June 8, 2020. It’s been 5 years since Jerrell came into my office. I pray to God that he is still venturing out into this vast world that God created and loving life! Please take a few moments to read about a conversation a young black man and I had one day in my office.

Written on August 10, 2015

He wanted to show me his video of the beach. At that moment, I hit a crossroad – my desk was cluttered with the remnants of three separate projects I’m tasked with this week – all to be complete by Friday. Insurmountable. All I wanted to do was stay buckled down, not look up, keep my eyes on the computer accomplishing one tidbit at a time. Climbing mountains with my fingers as minutes passed … and then he walked in, smile wide, excited to talk. A graduate, back to tie up some loose ends on campus with Career Services. He passed my office and we caught eyes – it was enough. He came in and I felt a disquiet – like … oh no … I have to keep going, have to keep working, can’t stop, must not stop, but he started to talk. Decision time for me. So much work to do ….

I let my fingers rest and an infectious smile filled his face.

Without hesitation, he launched into talking. His grandmother called him yesterday, wanting to make sure he wasn’t involved in the protesting in Ferguson. “Nah, Grandma, I’m on the beach.” And he was. In Florida. His eyes grew wide when he told me how amazing it was! Then he wanted to show me the video. I watched with pleasure. “I had no idea,” he said. Then, going on to tell me that after graduation, he hooked up with some musicians and ended up going on an 18 state tour with them – stepping outside of St. Louis for the first time in his life. “It’s beautiful everywhere!” We talked about the mountains in Virginia. We talked about the ocean. We talked about California. And he wanted to demonstrate for me how the break between sand and ocean blew his mind … just a total separation of water and land. As far as he could see, the ocean took his breath away. Never had he seen anything like it. He kept thanking God as we talked for getting him out of St. Louis for that time. Thanking God for making such amazing places. Thanking God for giving him the opportunity to see there’s so much beyond the streets of St. Louis, beyond the guns, the drugs, the atrocities of the streets.

This young, handsome black man standing in my office told me he’s 28 now and he wants to make it to 35 …. We both became emotional when he talked about friends he lost to violence at the age of 13, 15, 18, 21, 25 … they never got to see the things he had. They never knew there was so much beautiful beyond the city limits of St. Louis. He said, “I’ve lost so many.” And my heart broke for him, yet soared with pride to hear him say now he knows. He’s got his college degree and he’s traveled and he’s seen there’s so much to life. He doesn’t want to be on the streets but knows the pull is strong. It worries him, but he knows he has to stay busy – focus on his music. Said he’s going to get me some CDs of his music … “I know you probably don’t like hip-hop,” he said to me. “I’ll listen to yours,” I told him. To that, another wide smile awarded me.

When he first started school he walked the halls flirting with all the girls and the teachers, didn’t focus much on work, just came to play … time changed that. Upon graduation, he was awarded the Pharmacy Tech student of the year. And there in my office today, even more grown, stood a man giving thanks to God for all of the beauties of creation, amazed at what God had created for him to see, blessed beyond measure to be alive at 28 and holding a college degree. Oh, my heart. To hear him exclaim how he knows he has to be an example now for all the young men out there making poor choices on the street. They just don’t know different. Now he does, he says, and he wants to show them there’s so much more.

Join me please in praying for Jerrell. He’s a good man – giant heart – brilliant smile – opened eyes. Pray for his safety and pray for strength to withstand temptations of a past life. Pray God grants him more travels and multiple opportunities to bless the lives of young men who know no other way than the violence of the streets. Pray for St. Louis tonight – Ferguson – that all people will know and understand that black lives matter – as do all lives.

Thank you, God, for stopping my fingers for a while today. I love how blessings multiply. His story of blessings blessed me in the midst of my hurry and skurry. Sometimes … we just have to stop and listen. You know? Yeah.

June 8, 2020 … in light of everything that is happening in our world right now, I felt this was HIGHLY appropriate to share again. People … we are ALL people. Created in God’s image. Get out there and love on each other. Listen. Laugh. Love. Work together. Take the plank out of your own eye before attempting to remove the speck in someone else’s. Let’s make this thing called life into something beautiful. It takes YOU making a decision for today to be kind, to listen, and to love. It takes ME making that same decision every day. It is doable.

The Day Blake Garrett Died

I’m about to the point where I don’t want to watch the news anymore, and I’m a news junkie. Our media is pitting side against side, and they’re doing it unabashedly, and the people watching just go along with it all, hook, line, and sinker. It is disgusting to watch. I listen to people when I’m out and on social media, and most people never take the time to understand the WHY behind someone else’s perspective. Instead, choosing to hate anyone with an opposing perspective and call them wrong. It’s why I wrote that short story a couple of weeks ago – “The Good People Got On With Their Lives.”

The why someone believes what they believe is VITAL to know before opening your mouth in opposition … that is, if you even care for there to be an even remote opportunity for reconciliation or conversation. This all makes me feel crazy. I feel like a lone voice out here asking people to listen first, talk second. Seek to understand. Apparently, that is too hard. And tonight, I’m doubly disgusted with it all because a young man that I know lost his life today to fentanyl – and on the news, they’re arguing Bad Bunny vs. Kid Rock.

I’m sure he, the young man I know who died today, wasn’t the only one because we have an epidemic in this country – a fentanyl crisis. An epidemic that took a person from my life – again. A young man who was on a path to sobriety; he struggled, and he lost his battle. It is beyond sad. It’s maddening.

Why aren’t we up in arms about the fentanyl crisis in this country? “In 2023, fentanyl was responsible for an estimated about 199 deaths per day from overdoses in the U.S. alone. That’s based on CDC-linked data showing around 72,776 fentanyl overdose deaths over the year — roughly 199 deaths each day” (USAFacts). That was 3 years ago, and it hasn’t gone away. I read further that in 2025, the number sat similarly around 200 a day. That’s 200 too many!

Why aren’t we mad about this?

Why aren’t we mad at where the fentanyl is coming from?

Why aren’t we protesting those who bring it into our country?

Seriously.

What I know today is that I do not care about Bad Bunny or Kid Rock, and neither of their half-time performances. I don’t care, and that’s all the news seems to be able to talk about, that and Savannah Guthrie’s mom being missing. I’m sorry she’s missing, but what about the 2,000 – 2,300 children in this country who go missing EVERY DAY? “Roughly 2,000 – 2,300 U.S. children are reported missing each day when annual missing-child report numbers are averaged out” (Child Find of America). Nothing is said or done about these precious children who are gone. Gone. And where are they? Does anyone care? Families are destroyed all across America, and we are out protesting and saying things like, “No one is illegal on stolen land.” Every person anywhere on this planet is to some degree on “stolen” land – if by “stolen” we mean conquered or purchased. I can only roll my eyes and think, “Take a history class.” Why is it that celebrities’ thoughts and lives seem to mean so much more than everyone else’s? Shoot. Not in my book. Not at all. They’re just people. They all strain, too. Just sayin’.

So, not only do we have a fentanyl crisis that is swept under the rug, but we also know that there are over 2,000 children who go missing EVERY day in this country – and that, too, is hush-hush. Largely. Not only these things, but in Nigeria, tens of thousands of Christians have been killed in recent years just for their faith, and the news is silent.

On the Native American Reservations within our nation, thousands of young women and girls go missing every year – and nothing is done about it – nothing is said about it.

We also know that human trafficking/sex trafficking rakes in tens of billions of dollars a year, and it ranks #2 next to the drug trade in world criminal activity – and we don’t talk about it! There are more slaves in the world today than there ever have been! Why aren’t our “protestors” in this country out using their efforts to try to rescue these actual stolen people!

In Iran, since the beginning of January 2026, some reports now say over 90,000 protestors who wanted freedom have been killed, though verified reports are over 30,000. Their bodies are being burned to destroy the evidence; families have to pay for bodies if they want to keep them for burial, but the price is too high. In some cases, families are made to pay for each bullet extracted from the body of their loved one. There is a communication blackout – the regime cut off access to the internet to the people. Thousands have been blinded. Hundreds of thousands have been injured.

And in the U.S., we are arguing about Bad Bunny vs. Kid Rock.

That is sickening.

I’m worked up, and I know, in part, it is because I’ll never see Blake smile again – his blue eyes light up when he was mischievous in meetings – never again have him as my waiter at the restaurant where he worked – never hear him read the words that had the power to save him if he could only let those words into his heart. Miserable, awful, horrible addiction. Miserable, awful, horrible fentanyl. You know what? His life mattered. Still does. To those of us who knew him, loved him, and wanted him to succeed in this thing called recovery.

He won’t make the news – just like the 2,000 kids who go missing every day, many of whom are put into human trafficking. Just like the thousands of missing Native American young women and girls. Just like the Christians in Nigeria who have been slaughtered in the thousands. Just like the protestors in Iran dying because they want to be free like we are in the United States – where we are FREE to criticize our government. If they do, they die. Just like the scope of the fentanyl crisis and how it gets here and where it comes from. None of that will be on the news. You have to research it for yourself to know anything at all about any of these.

Man. I’m sitting here stunned at it all.

Yeah, Blake won’t make the news, but his loss is news to me.

It has rocked our world this evening, and the loss of him reminds me that there are things in life that are MUCH MORE important than what the news media tells me I should be upset about.

Amen.

The Thing About Celebrities – They Strain, Too

The thing about celebrities is that they poop, too. I could make that much more graphic, and when I’m teaching, I do because I like driving home my points. Celebrities are just people. People who get paid way too much for being entertainers. Like court jesters … who didn’t in the past get paid much more than a pittance. They shouldn’t today, either, get paid much more than a pittance. However, we use money wrong in this world – our priorities are wildly out of order. Instead of prioritizing education, we idolize the people who entertain us – celebrities and athletes – and throw money at their feet; they live lavish lives, think they’re more important than they are, and want to tell us how to live our lives – us, the little peasants who actually work for a living.

Prime example? Jimmy Kimmel and Stephen Colbert. Sit down, both of you. Write something actually funny. Something that will not be divisive. Something that can bring people together. No one gave you a platform and said, you’re a politician now. No, you’re not. You’re a supposed flippin’ entertainer, but you’re neither one funny. You’re divisive and angry. I remember when you were funny… somewhere along the way, that changed. Back in the day, you praised Barack Obama for deporting immigrants with Tom Homan. Today, you demonize Donald Trump and Tom Homan for doing the exact same thing – in even smaller numbers. And the sad thing is, because they are “celebrities”- Kimmel and Colbert, the masses watch them and think there’s no way these celebrities would say anything false or misleading meant to increase their own pockets and not based on actual facts … no way.

Um, yes way. Absolutely. They’re all about lining their own pockets. They bend to donors’ pockets. It’s disgusting, and they’re not funny.

Funny was Johnny Carson. Non-political – a show at the end of the day where working adults, no matter their political leaning, could laugh before going to bed. Yeah, those days are gone. Today’s “celebrities” think they’re a lot more important than they are. I just wish the masses understood how easily manipulated they, the masses, are – that Kimmel fake cries and claims to care about things that, as soon as the next “fad” to get upset over comes, the thing he “cried” about is off the air and out of his mouth. How do people not see this? Because critical thinking is no longer something we prioritize. Emotion … that’s where we place our trust. Gut feelings. War cries! And I’m here rolling my eyes. Sit down. Think. Learn about Logos, Pathos, Ethos, and Logical Fallacies. Start noticing them. Get disgusted at these celebrities today who march in the streets for Gaza but stay silent over the thousands of protestors who have been slaughtered in Iran in the last three weeks. Where are Colbert and Kimmel on Iran? SILENT. Not a word. It doesn’t fit their narrative. The celebrities at the Grammys as well. I’ve only seen clips; I don’t watch those shows. It’s a parade of people, who I have no idea who most of them are, who all think I want to hear their political feelings. Yeah, no thanks to that mess. I live in the real world. And I do not worship celebrities nor live my life according to what they tell me to think or do.

Entertain me, “celebrities” … jesters.

Don’t tell me what your political feelings are. I don’t care.

You’re an entertainer, so entertain. Write something actually funny. Earn your money. Sing for your supper.

Mostly, I don’t watch you anymore – don’t care to support the idolization and worship of humans who feed on the naivety, gullibility, and “need for a leader” that so many people have. I have a leader. His name is Jesus, and He doesn’t need my money. He owns the cattle on a thousand hills, and His Name is the Name Above All Names.

It’s okay if you don’t agree, and you want to follow Jimmy Kimmel and be a Kimmel-ite. The day will come when we will find out who is worthy of worship, of your time, of your money, your adoration, your time …

But for me?

No thanks, Celebrities. You strain, too.

The Good People Got On With Their Lives. A Short Story.

New story on Amazon. https://a.co/d/ccsHJb6

Some places feel wrong before you can explain why.

On a simple drive, Sarah and Tom pass through a town called Goodville—quiet and unsettling in a way that has nothing to do with what they can see. A single encounter leaves Sarah shaken, and the feeling follows them long after they put miles behind them.

At a roadside diner, a local named Ted begins to talk. What starts as conversation becomes something else: a portrait of a place where “goodness” is a rule, a ritual, and a justification—and where the cost of keeping life comfortable is paid by someone else.

The Good People Got On With Their Lives is a quiet, unnerving short story about moral certainty, social complicity, and the danger of calling something “normal” simply because it has always been that way. It doesn’t offer easy answers—only questions that linger.

Patrick C. – AA speaker – You Don’t Keep What You Have Unless You Give It Away. Alcoholism/Alcoholic.

My husband spoke last night, and I want to share his words with you. If you are struggling with addiction, whether that be alcohol, “outside issues” (drugs, shopping, food, etc), this message is for you. It is also for those of you who have been walking a road of sobriety but find yourselves struggling, feeling alone, getting to the end of your rope. If you are struggling, and you feel alone, download the AA “Meeting Finder” app and get yourself to a meeting. Be with others who KNOW you without having met you. Be in the fellowship. Save a life – your own perhaps – and perhaps the one of the person who needed to hear you honestly talk about your lack of control, your desperation, your loneliness, your truth … we heal together. Patrick says, “You don’t keep what you have unless you give it away.”

I asked AI for a summary of Patrick’s talk. Here is what it created, though it is NO replacement for hearing this message from my husband’s mouth. He has 39 years of sobriety and has walked this path for a long time. He is wise, and I am proud to be his wife.

Patrick shares a deeply honest AA lead centered on Experience, Strength, and Hope, reflecting on long-term sobriety that did not come easily or quickly. Although he entered Alcoholics Anonymous in 1987, his first five years were marked by surface-level participation: frequent meetings, repeated sponsors, and memorized language, but little internal change. He remained sober yet deeply uncomfortable with himself, unable to feel peace, ease, or authenticity.

The turning point came when Patrick reached an emotional and spiritual dead end—unable to return to drinking and unable to continue living sober in the way he had been. Under the guidance of a sponsor who insisted on being fearless and thorough, Patrick worked the steps directly from the Big Book, examining his life before alcohol and recognizing that alcoholism was present long before his first drink. Alcohol was not the cause of his problem—it was his solution.

Through this deeper work, Patrick came to understand alcoholism as a spiritual illness characterized by fear, insecurity, disconnection, and self-centered thinking. True sobriety required surrender, humility, and continued spiritual growth—not just abstinence. Over the decades, Patrick endured profound personal loss, including the death of children, financial hardship, and ongoing internal struggles, yet remained sober by staying connected to AA, sponsoring others, and relying on fellowship. His message emphasizes that sobriety is not about time or years, but about ongoing spiritual action, service, and connection.

Main Takeaways

Sobriety without inner change is unsustainable. Meetings and slogans alone did not bring peace.
Alcohol was not the root problem—it was the relief. Fear and emotional pain existed long before drinking.
The steps must be worked thoroughly and honestly, guided by a sponsor—not self-directed.
Time sober does not equal spiritual growth. Change comes from action, not years.
Long-term sobriety requires continuous surrender, especially during hardship.
Service is essential to survival. Giving sobriety away is how it is kept.
Isolation is deadly; connection is lifesaving.

Lessons About Sobriety

Sobriety is more than not drinking
Patrick underscores that simply staying abstinent left him miserable. Real sobriety required confronting fear, insecurity, and self-centered thinking through the steps.
Alcoholism is a spiritual condition
His story reframes alcoholism as something present from childhood—marked by fear, inadequacy, and emotional pain—not something created by substances themselves.
Discomfort is part of growth
Remaining sober means learning to be “comfortable being uncomfortable.” Growth happens through surrender, not ease.
Hardship does not mean failure
Loss, grief, and suffering continued in sobriety—but they no longer led him back to drinking.
Spiritual growth requires action
Patrick identifies service, sponsorship, and helping others—not intellectual understanding—as the primary ways to grow spiritually.

Lessons About Fellowship

You cannot do this alone
Patrick repeatedly emphasizes that his survival depended on sponsors, his home group, and sober friends.
Newcomers are essential—not optional
Long-sober members need newcomers just as much, if not more, than newcomers need them.
Sponsorship is not optional for long-term sobriety
He challenges members with many years sober who are not sponsoring to examine what might be missing spiritually.
Fellowship sustains sobriety during crisis
Fellowship carried Patrick through unimaginable loss when personal strength alone was insufficient.
Connection—not perfection—keeps people sober
Patrick remains sober by showing up even when he doesn’t feel like it, staying plugged into AA rather than relying on self-will.

My Husband’s Thoughts After Helping a Woman Loading Salt and Water Into Her Car at the Gas Station. – He’s Not Going to Let What You Might Think of Him Stop Him From Being Him.

Greetings. As you all know, I don’t use social media. My lovely wife enjoys it, but I decline. However, this one time, I will. – Patrick

I had an experience today that I would like all of you to know about. While I was out, I stopped for coffee at a convenience store, and on my way in, I saw a lady who was loading cases of water into her trunk. It was more than obvious that this woman had MS, curled hands, and a clear limp.

I thought about asking her if she needed help, but for some reason, I walked in and went about my business. On the way out, after paying for my coffee, to my surprise, she was still loading her car, only this time, with 20 lb. bags of salt. So I asked her if she needed help. She said, “Yes,” and I loaded the bags. She said, “Thank you, and may God bless you, Sir.”

I sat in the car and couldn’t help but wonder, ‘Why did I hesitate to begin with?’ I thought about it and realized I didn’t ask initially because I didn’t want to offend anyone. I thought, ‘What’s happening to me?’

It dawned on me that the people I am currently in the world with have had an impact on me as a person. I want to address those people. If the shoe fits, wear it; no filter with me.

If you are one of those people who have found it necessary to sew division merely due to who you voted for, or one who cannot live in society until the rest of the population agrees with a man being able to be a woman, or just flat out Will NOT treat other people with respect until they adopt “your” way of thinking, do a cowboy a favor and GROW UP!

I almost let these types of people in society alter me today, but I think from now on, I’ll be a little more diligent and watchful to make darn sure I don’t become someone I am NOT.

Wife here: I love this man’s heart, and I’m proud to be his wife!

19 Months Post Open-Heart Surgery. Still Waiting On The Return of My Hair.

There were a few months of soaring hope while I took Viviscal – hoping that my hair would return to its pre-surgery state! Those months were in the spring and summer of 2025; my hair thickened, and I enjoyed fixing it for work and outings, grateful for its “return.” In the fall, I started to notice the thinning again. Life was stressful in the fall with Patrick’s abscesses and hospital visits (7!), so I’m aware that I’m experiencing a double-whammy. My body is still in recovery; believe me, this has been a topic of research of late. I am 19 months post-open heart surgery, and I am still in recovery – we have also been close to having our own suite in the emergency room at St. Francis South. So, I have to remind myself that not only did my body go through a traumatic experience less than 2 years ago, but my stress levels have not been good either for months on end, though I have kept an eye on my blood pressure and my INR. Despite all of this, my spirit says, “Okay, let’s be normal,” while my body says, “Nah, not yet.” My body is still in flight-or-fight mode from all that the last two years have thrown at us.

I am also a 53-year-old woman who had a hysterectomy in 2018. My ovaries stayed in … and I am fairly positive they’re going kaput. It’s menopause time. The weight I lost after surgery is all back with a vengeance – you know, the meno-belly. I’m more conscientious now of my diet than I have ever been in my life! I drink protein drinks for breakfast, eat Greek yogurt, and nutritionist-approved granola for lunch. I snack on dark chocolate. I only drink water and sparkling water. We eat turkey, chicken, and pork in this house. I never eat fast food or junk food, except for tortilla chips and salsa. I do a blood check for my INR every week and report results to my cardiologist’s office. I mean, I’ve never eaten this well – and I am a plump little chicken. Grrrr. One of my goals has always been to weigh less than Patrick, and currently, that’s not the case. Of course, he’s been sick since September, off and on and off and on, so there’s that, too. Probably, I’ve eaten a bit more of the items I mentioned because of stress over his health – the uncertainty of the last few months has been emotional and exhausting. But there’s also the hot flashes – and they come at night! Holy moly. I need it cold in the bedroom. Midway through the night, I’m sweating and throwing off covers. Last night, I got about 4 hours of sleep. I was too hot to sleep. So … 19 months post-surgery, husband has been terribly sick, and menopause/peri-menopause (how can you tell with no uterus) … triple whammy! But, you know what? I am alive.

How does it feel to be 19 months post-open-heart surgery? Glad you asked. For the most part, I am feeling great. I hear the ticking of my mechanical valve often, and I remember what I’ve been through. As soon as I start to feel “normal,” I’ll hear that, and I find myself reliving portions of the experience. Not in horror, but in gratitude for the space I’m in now as compared to where I was pre-surgery and immediately following – those first 12 weeks after surgery were intense. I’m not bothered by the ticking, though I see some folks in the support groups I’m in on Facebook complaining about the incessant ticking. Heck, it means we are alive! Recently, the living room was silent, and I could hear my ticking, so I recorded it. Wild to have a recording! I’m grateful for it. There are some nights when I have to adjust because, in certain positions, the ticking is loud and keeps me awake. Not a bother. I just move my head or flip onto my side … which I can do now!

Mostly, I’m comfortable on my side in bed. It took months to be able to put my left arm up and under my pillow so I could sleep on my left side. I still feel “pain” when I’m on my left, and if I don’t keep my right arm up on my body, if I let it fall down in front of me, then I’m squeezing my chest together, and that doesn’t feel good. I wouldn’t call it “pain” – hence the quotes. It is a bothersome feeling, an ache. Whatever it is, it is unpleasant, so I have to find just the right position so that I can drift off comfortably. Now, on my right side, I could put my right arm under my pillow for months and sleep on my right, but lately it hurts when I do, similar to how the left arm used to. I don’t know what that’s about, and I’m not headed to the chiropractor at this time. I just, a lot of the time, choose to lie on my back, which is something I never used to do. I have been a belly sleeper for most of my life, but not anymore. Probably that’s psychological. I just don’t do it. Lying on my back is when I hear the ticking, so I have to get my head in just the right position so I do not hear it quite as loudly, though most nights I have a YouTube ocean storm for sleeping playing on my phone next to the bed. Who would have thought that 19 months later I would still have sleeping issues?!? It’s all good though … I am alive.

Occasionally, I have chest pain. Sometimes on the left. Sometimes on the right. Sometimes it is sharp. Sometimes it is dull. It’s always near the surface, near my skin. Right now, at this moment, I feel a tightness across my entire chest. If you’re ever around me, you might see me put my hand on my chest in whatever area I’m feeling something funky. It’s part of me now – these aches and pin-pricks. There’s metal in my body – and it does what it does, and my body reacts to it. In my heart, there’s a mechanical valve, and there are wires that held my ribcage together as it melded back together over lengthy months. And when I feel these things, I touch my chest where I feel the pain/ache/tightness, and it tends to alleviate. It’s all good. I don’t set off metal detectors, and I’m alive.

My hair … yeah, I want it back. But now, I wonder about the medication regimen I was on in the last five years – the oral Rogaine – and, though I’m not curious enough yet to have researched it, I wonder if it contributed to my mitral valve’s severe regurgitation and put me into congestive heart failure. Maybe one of these days I will look into that, but I’m not there yet. The medication combo I was on, which included the oral Rogaine, is something I cannot take again due to my current health. I’m just missing my hair and wearing a lot of hats. I mean, a lot of hats. I have so many hats, and here’s crazy information: two more will arrive in today’s mail! You know how some people collect stamps or coins? Well, for me, it’s cowboy boots and hats. Actually, both Patrick and I collect these things, but for me, the hats are more in effort to cover up my hair loss. I really like some of them now, and I’m getting quite comfortable wearing them. Heck, last fall, one of my students drew me, my hats, and my outfits every day and gave them to me as a gift at the end of the semester. That was pretty cool. I like being ‘that’ professor who is ‘unafraid’ to be herself. Secretly, though, I ask myself whether I am really unafraid to be myself. If I were fully unafraid, I wouldn’t have this great need to wear hats every time I leave the house. I would just let my lack of hair be what it is – and who cares what a single solitary person out there in the big wide world thinks! Because you know why? Less than 2 years ago, I had major open-heart surgery, and I am alive!

My intention here is to be a voice for others struggling post-major surgery with body changes and life continuing to roll at you like a barrelling train on icy tracks. Recently, I read that it can take 24 full months before the body is “healed” from the type of surgery I underwent. So, I’ll tell my story, talk about my experiences, and hope to be a voice of hope and also reality for those facing similar types of surgeries – and for folks who just need a reminder to be grateful for life. We all face different traumas/experiences – and what I’ve learned is that the key is gratitude. I’m grateful for the Chief of Cardiology as my surgeon. I’m grateful for my husband being the best caregiver I could ever ask for. I’m grateful for my work and for their love and care during my healing. I’m grateful for friends and family. I am grateful for sobriety through all of this. I am grateful to God for allowing me to remain here on this earth for a little longer. In that operating room, I felt perfect peace when I prayed, “Jesus, I either wake up with you or with work to do.” Well, I woke up in the ICU, so I have work to do.

And how I do that is, I wake up each day and thank God for the day. I thank Him for my marriage, my husband, my children, my friends, my work, and I ask Him to let me be of use to Him each day. Then, I go out the door and step into the day. Grateful. Each step I take is a gift. And in lieu of this … (see, I learn constantly – and I just caught the lesson here in my own words) the hair on my head is a gift. Whether it is thin or it is thick, I am alive, and I have work to do – wearing a hat or not wearing a hat! Heck yeah! BE ME! Be real. Be authentic. Be grateful! Thank you, Lord! So … let’s do this.

Something Scary, Boo.

What’s scary is that people don’t mind getting their news from one-sided sources. Truly scary. And willfully blind. Ignorant is a better word. Willfully ignorant. Choosing not to see things from opposing perspectives. Choosing not to understand why someone might dare to hold a different thought. Never ask why that person holds an opposing view. Just willfully ignoring that opposing perspectives exist, and that only by seeking to understand why the other side is different can true perspective and sincere grounding for one’s own perspectives be found. We certainly don’t want to be accused of thinking for ourselves beyond one-sided news sources; we want to choose a side and hate anyone who opposes our held ideas. It is stunning – truly stunning – and not in a good way, not in a beautiful way – that such willful ignorance exists, and in abundance at that. Cognitive Dissonance. Biases. Logical Fallacies. They’re flowing like water rushing over Bridalveil Falls, and I am stunned. I shouldn’t be, but I am.

Despite it all, I will continue to teach critical thinking skills which incorporate calm, courteous processes wherein we know our audience, understand their perspectives, research opposing information, and address such with clarity and evidence – not seeking to win an argument but to, at the very least, inspire critical thinking in the audience. There is no place for anger, no place for emotionalism, no place for words like, anyone who has an opposing perspective “should be shot in the head so that the good people can get on with their lives.” I saw those words on Facebook during COVID. On a colleague’s Facebook page. I’ll never forget them; I still work with this person. I don’t do social media with coworkers much anymore, and I keep an eye on that individual. That person is supposed to be teaching critical thinking skills … that scares me, too. How can an individual who believes anyone who opposes their ideas “should be shot in the head so that the good people can get on with their lives,” teach any person anywhere how to be fair and participate in a true argument? It’s wildly insane.

To anyone reading this, please don’t get your news from just one source. Not just from CNN. Not just from FOX. Today, one of my students told me about “Allsides.com” – supposedly a fair and balanced site; I checked it out. I’m intrigued. I try to be open-minded and seek to understand why people who believe differently from me do just that … believe differently from me. It has everything to do with life experience, culture, and research (lot of or lack of). Why this doesn’t make sense to the masses will baffle me for the rest of my existence on this earth, I’m sure. So be it. That will not stop me from teaching and encouraging my students to think for themselves beyond what one news station or certain social media influencers say. I will continue to push them to experience multiple perspectives and draw conclusions based on research and paced thought, never rash emotion or bandwagon mentality. I will continue to grade their work not on whether I agree with their thesis statements, but on how well they support those statements with their evidence. I will also continue to show them that every one of us is valuable, no matter our perspectives, and that not a one of us deserves to be “shot in the head so that the good people can get on with their lives.”

Of course, I’ll draw this to a close in much the same way I end many of my classes. What I’m telling you here (think for yourself and don’t settle for one perspective) works for me, but you do you, Boo.

Scolded By My Son – and I’m Grateful.

Joshua 1:9: “Have I not commanded you? Be strong and courageous. Do not be afraid, and do not be dismayed, for the Lord your God is with you wherever you go”.

This morning’s blog post; I want to share with you.

Yesterday, my 19-year-old son, Klayton, spoke truth to me, and I am humbled that God speaks to us through the means He chooses.

Klayton and I talked about many things, from philosophy to my thinning hair, and I told him how sad I am that it has become so thin since surgery, and that I can no longer take the medications that had been thickening it before surgery. We talked about how stress can be a cause of thinning hair, and I shared the level of stress and anxiety I’ve been in since Labor Day, when Patrick’s health took a sharp decline, and the peritonsillar abscess started. 6 ER visits. Multiple doctors’ appointments. Talk of Sepsis. Doctors refusing to do a tonsillectomy because they surmised it would kill him (he’s 62 and a smoker), but also making us aware that antibiotics would stop working at some point. It felt hopeless. We are now 10 days past the tonsillectomy, which a second opinion doctor assured us would not be a problem, and Patrick is still in pain, though it is lessening. Some days are better than others, but he is healing, and I feel on pins and needles. Have felt on pins and needles just waiting for the bottom to fall out for months now. In this past year, I’ve taken him to the ER (3 times calling an ambulance) 9 times. 6 since September 4^th. Klayton listened, and then, he said (and I’m paraphrasing), he didn’t want to come across as scolding me, but he said that anxiety is fear-based. And fear is a lack of trust in God. I’m trying to fix everything myself and not resting in God’s provision. Fear. Anxiety. Bad health. These things come from not trusting God and living in the knowledge that HE will provide for me, for us, come what may. Wow. Just wow. Wisdom from my son. I did not feel scolded; I felt seen. Seen and called out truthfully and lovingly.

Later in the night, close to midnight, Patrick asked Joey and me to come to the table, and he handed Joey the “Jesus Calling” book. Joey opened it to December 10^th, and he read out loud, “Make ME (God) the focal point of your search for security. In your private thoughts, you are still trying to order your world so that it is predictable and feels safe. Not only is this an impossible goal, but it is also counterproductive to spiritual growth. When your private world feels unsteady, and you grip My hand for support, you are living in conscious dependence on Me.

“Instead of yearning for a problem-free life, rejoice that trouble can highlight your awareness of My Presence. In the darkness of adversity, you are able to see more clearly the radiance of My Face. Accept the value of problems in this life, considering them PURE JOY. Remember that you have an eternity of trouble-free living awaiting you in Heaven.”

The book goes on to share Isaiah 41:10 – “So do not fear, for I am with you; do not be dismayed, for I am your God. I will strengthen you and help you; I will uphold you with my righteous right hand.”

Psalm 139:10 – “Even there your hand will guide me, your right hand will hold me fast.”

James 1:2 – “Consider it pure joy, my brothers, whenever you face trials of many kinds.”

We sat and discussed what the passage meant and how we can apply it to our lives, and as I sat there, I kept hearing Klayton’s words in my head, and I found myself grateful to God for His message to me throughout the evening. I even made a little “hmmm” noise as it dawned on me that was precisely what was happening – through Klayton and through the “Jesus Calling” book.

The night’s message did not stop there. Patrick followed me back to our bedroom when I went to bed, then sat in a chair and asked me to sit in the one opposite him. He said, “If you go to bed with something on your mind, it will still be there in the morning. Get it out. What’s going on?”

I ugly cried.

Shared how scared I’ve been, how high my anxiety has been, and we discussed the necessity of reliance upon God in our lives. We are here to be HIS vessels – to show Him to the world, despite our circumstances. Come What May. That JOY comes not from things going the way we want them to, but rather it comes in resting in the knowledge that I belong to God and that HE will use me for His kingdom if I get myself and my need to “control” out of His way. If I continue to try to control things, He will allow me to make a mess of myself and my life, but if I rest in Him, if I trust that He has my problems, and that my task is just to be about my day – looking for opportunities to be of service to others and to be His light in this dark world – He will take care of the hard things.

I’m humbled this morning, and I’m grateful.

Grateful that God can speak to me through my son, through words in a book, through my husband – all saying the same thing. Trust God, Dacia. His ways are not my ways. His ways are not our ways.

So today, my focus will be on serving others as I can, and doing so with a smile, knowing that all else is outside my pay grade. I will also be grateful for the good things in my life. I will focus on gratitude and service. This is the crux of God’s gift of Joy and a life in AA.

I’m grateful for:

The fact that my 6 bio children know God, some closer than others, but that He is and has been a part of their lives.
That my bio children love each other.
That God has given me non-bio kids to love and cherish as well.
That God put a man in my life who would love me still if I looked like a potato and had no hair.
Worship music that keeps me grounded; I need to listen to it more often.
God’s word, which I make a point to read each morning. Some mornings with more attention than others, but making it a consistency in my life.
Lifelong friends who are more like sisters – who are part of my very being.
Knowing that my sweet momma would be so happy that Patrick and I have Daddy living here in our home with us. Making her proud always filled my heart.
Knowing that God loves me despite me.
Today, I get to make “Grandma Snare’s Sugar Cookies” for my kids and for whoever else God leads me to give cookies to – and each cookie will be made with love.

I’m sharing this because I love you; I’m grateful for you, and I do not want you to spend your life fighting to control all of your circumstances yourself. I want to remind you, as I needed reminded, that if we keep our focus in the right place, and that is being God’s vessel, His hands, His feet, His love, His directness, His light in this dark world, that HE will take care of the rest and give us JOY. Joy that is far beyond happiness, which is fleeting. Joy is a state of being. It is peace knowing that God’s will is higher than all else, and if we remain in His plan for our lives, we will know that Peace That Passes Understanding. Amen.

Let Me Be Clear – Rhetoric at its Finest

The buzzword in politics is “Clear.” Both sides say it, and as soon as it comes out of a politician’s mouth, I distrust them; I’m going to side-eye that individual from those words forward. It disappoints me. If you have actually researched and your argument stands on its own, there is no necessity for the words, “Let me be clear.” They’re rhetoric. Pretty words. A veil. A covering. It’s like liars who use the word “Honestly” to ensure you believe something they’re going to say. My response? How about no. If you’re a truth teller, you don’t need to qualify anything you say with “Honestly” or “Let me be clear.” Those words are rhetoric – words chosen with the intent to persuade a reader/listener. The actual definition, according to the Google Dictionary/Oxford Language, is “the art of effective or persuasive speaking or writing, especially the use of figures of speech and other compositional techniques.” The ART of using words to persuade. Rhetoric is fun and effective to use if you’re a politician because, well, most people do not think for themselves. We are like sheep joining a sheep circle, going round and round and round, just following whoever looks and sounds like the leader. Hence the term “wolf in sheep’s clothing.”

“Let me be clear” is telling the listener to believe what you’re going to say – that you’ve done all the research necessary and you are trustworthy. What you say is clear and accurate. There is no need for a listener to question the authority of your words. You are clear. There is an element of imposed guilt on a listener if they dare to question the statement made by the individual who says it is “oh so clear.” That is in quotation marks, so you read it in my sarcastic tone. “Let me be clear” is an excellent tactic on many people, which is why it is used so often nowadays in politics and in the media. Listen for it. Start counting the number of times you hear it. Make it a drinking game when you watch the “news” (sarcasm again – they’re not reporters now, they’re commentators/opinion givers) if you’re not an alcoholic.

I tell my students to be aware of rhetoric – understand it. Recognize when it’s used on you. Know how to effectively use it on others if you so choose. Law. Politics. Sales. Media. These career fields exist on the back of strong rhetoric. Persuasion is the euphemism. Manipulation is the curse word. Rhetoric.

One of my major teaching points in Comp I is Stephen King’s brilliant, rhetorical move in the short story “The Man Who Loved Flowers.” My favorite paragraph in that piece is this:

“The radio poured out bad news that no one listened to: a hammer murderer was still on the loose; JFK had declared that the situation in a little Asian country called Vietnam would bear watching; an unidentified woman had been pulled from the East River; a grand jury had failed to indict a crime overlord in the current city administration’s war on heroin; the Russians had exploded a nuclear device. None of it seemed real, none of it seemed to matter. The air was soft and sweet. Two men with beer bellies stood outside a bakery, pitching nickels and ribbing each other. Spring trembled on the edge of summer, and in the city, summer is the season of dreams.”

“The radio poured out bad news that no one listened to:” is the opening line of the foreshadowing paragraph. In this paragraph, King tells the audience what the situation is, but it is sandwiched between “Don’t listen to this” and “None of it seemed real, none of it seemed to matter.” None of what King just had the radio say matters. Don’t listen to it. It’s not real. It doesn’t matter. And then, the air is soft and sweet. People are kidding around. And summer is the season of dreams. King effectively told the significant plot point but hid it inside rhetoric. “Don’t listen” and “It doesn’t matter.” And the reader falls for it. The reader doesn’t remember that a hammer murderer is on the loose. And that is the truth of the short story. There is a hammer murderer, and as the reader, you already met him, but you don’t know it. A reader in 1969 would have had further complications in pointing out the foreshadowing because each of the items that follow “a hammer murderer is on the loose” are actual things happening in May of 1963, in New York City news. That audience would be red-herring distracted from the hammer murderer. A rhetorical move well done. Well done. Personally, I find this paragraph of King’s to be brilliant rhetoric. Beautiful, actually.

I can appreciate rhetoric; I find it useful in the classroom, but I do not use it as a weapon. I use it to engage my students, to open minds to new ideas. I do not use it to manipulate or trick them. When I see that happening in media and in politics (and in sales – like car sales – my least favorite shopping venture), it grates on my ever-loving last nerve. “Let me be clear” … I think not. No, thank you. If you had anything of actual value to say, you would have no need to use a subversive, fad-driven, rhetorical device/buzzword.

Remember when someone on the news said J.D. Vance was “weird” – and within days, every station was using that same rhetoric-driven buzzword. The fad began, and people watching those particular news shows believed the word. Thus, J.D. Vance was indeed weird – declared by not only news stations and politicians but also SOCIAL MEDIA – and we all know that social media is reliable for information gleaning (again, sarcasm by me – I hope you do know to sift through anything you read on social media. It’s a rhetorical minefield). Social media, where information is validated because “everyone” says it. LOL … oh man. Seriously. Maybe it’s not that J.D. Vance is “weird,” it might just be that he is different from you – maybe he has a message that someone does not want you to hear or believe. So, rhetoric is employed, and he is called “weird,” so that the masses of people who easily follow and believe what the media tells them will distrust him. Please stop and think. If we are going to play that rhetorical game, J.D. Vance probably thinks that the individuals calling him weird are “weird.” Geez, people. Think for yourselves. Don’t fall for rhetorical terms tossed out by people who want to invalidate another individual – and we just let it happen. It’s far too easy for those skilled in the art of rhetoric.

Let me be clear ...

How about no?

“Echoes of the Criminal Mind” – a Thought-Provoking Read for Any Writer Wanting to Fine Tune Character Development – Especially Their Villains!

This book, “Echoes of the Criminal Mind” by Merle Davenport, scared me so much that not only did I decide staying home most of the time sounded like a mighty fine idea, but also, it is so effectively shocking that I am incorporating it into the curriculum for the Novel Writing class I teach at Tulsa Community College. Students and writers of all genres need to write authentic characters—especially villains. And who better to teach about the mind of a criminal, outside of an actual criminal, than Merle Davenport, who holds a Master’s degree in Education, done extensive research into Criminal Behavior, and has taught GED and reentry classes behind prison walls for 25 years. He is also the president of the Tulsa Night Writers – a community of writers in Tulsa, Oklahoma, with over 180 members.

“Echoes of the Criminal Mind” is organized not only around personal experiences (he tells many stories with dialogue that is unbelievably true) from Merle’s many years teaching prisoners, but also around explanations of fundamental (and shocking) characteristics of criminals and how to incorporate them into villains authentically. The last two chapters have charts for writers to use in building and assessing their villains, with examples of what that looks like. This book is brilliant. Merle’s magnum opus. I’m grateful that he wrote it, that I can use it to inspire writers to plumb the depths of character development, and even grateful that the words in it have me paying more attention in public as I go about my everyday life.

Thank you to Merle for his willingness to help us write our characters and villains, drawing on his wealth of experience and knowledge. Now, let’s get to writing our villains, folks … especially the anti-hero … because we do discover that some of them want to be good, but life happens. Ahhhh. You’ve got to read this book!