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.

“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!

Writer Interview: Me, Interviewed by a Former Student. Q&A.

What got you interested in writing?

My earliest memory of enjoying writing is Ms. Campbell’s English class in 6^th grade. One particular assignment was that she gave us a list of random words, and we had to write a short story that included each word. It has been 41 years, and I still smile when I remember that assignment. It was a challenge, and it inspired me. She is also the teacher who stirred my interest in reading. During 7^th grade, under her tutelage, I ventured into “Wuthering Heights,” and the rest is history. Ms. Campbell was my English teacher in 6^th, 7^th, and 10^th grades. She encouraged me. She pushed me. She challenged me.

Was there a specific moment when you realized you wanted to become a writer, and when was that?

Although I dabbled in writing a never-seen-the-light-of-day book during high school, it wasn’t until I was deep into my Master’s in Creative Writing that I submitted a memoir piece about something that scared me as a child, which I did. When the teacher, Craig Schneider, handed it back, he said, “You should get this published in a horror magazine.” THAT is a moment I will never forget. Who? Me? Horror? Oh my. It turned out to be my first published piece.

What have you done in your career as a writer?

In addition to teaching creative writing courses (Novel Writing, Introduction to Creative Writing, Poetry) and Composition courses, I enjoy writing on my blog. I have four published short stories (“The Devil’s Promenade,” “Full Moon,” “The Echo of Alone,” and “Mom in the Middle”), three novels, two of which are in current publication (“A Kiss in the Rain” and “The American Queen” – the third is “For Love of Words”), and two children’s books (“Not Real and Never Will Be” and “Giraffes are People, Too” with my daughter, Kennedy). This past year, I headed up the creation of a Writer’s Series that is housed in the TCC Library, in which I am blessed to interview authors, poets, publishers, and editors for TCC’s students. https://guides.library.tulsacc.edu/TCCwritersseries.

What do you do currently in your writing career?

Teach creative writing. Write on my blog when I can. https://lenazyslife.home.blog/. I have been making notes for a memoir on recovery and survival, which I will accomplish with Stonebrook Publishing (hopefully) sometime in the next two to three years. I also challenge students to improve their creative writing, so I talk about writing daily! I stay affiliated with the Tulsa Nightwriters, though I don’t attend as regularly as I should.

What is your favorite thing about writing?

Expressing my thoughts and feelings, they flow more smoothly through my fingers than they do my mouth. Unless I’m in front of a group of people, one-on-one talking ties my tongue; I’d rather have a keyboard and my fingers. I can write for others, and I can write for myself. It is an expression of what is deep inside me, either way.

What are the things you don’t like about writing?

That my fingers move faster than my mind sometimes because I get excited, and my fingers fly, and the squiggle lines occur in abundance on the screen! But I’m okay with letting them sit there. I’ve learned to let go and let the fingers fly. However, there’s a part of me that wants to slow down and beat the timed typing test every time.

What has been a challenge as a writer?

Initially, negative self-talk. Not thinking I had anything to say or to offer. Once I began my Master’s courses, peer review tested me and almost knocked me out of the game. I stuck it out, though, and I came to love peer review and workshopping. Understanding the vital necessity of critique to make the writing better. Through workshopping and peer review, I learned how to set my feelings aside and focus on making the writing its best.

What surprised you most about this career?

I don’t write for a career, so I cannot necessarily speak to that, but as for teaching creative writing, it brings me joy! That doesn’t surprise me, though. What surprises me is that 17 years ago, I was a stay-at-home mom and had been for the 12 years before that. I’d forgotten that I had a mind and how to use it. Now, to see myself as an Assistant Professor, Career Faculty Fellow, and President-Elect of the Faculty Association at my school is a dream. Something completely unexpected.

Any advice for someone considering a career in writing?

It’s not a quick way to wealth. That’s for sure. This is something we do for the love of writing and expression. This is something you do because you are passionate about it. You write whether you make money at it or not. In “On Writing,” Stephen King says he would write even if he didn’t make a dime at it because he is compelled to. I get that. I often feel compelled to write – like I have to write, or I will lose my mind. So … write … write so you don’t lose your mind. 

What does a typical day as a writer look like?

This one does not apply to me as much; I write when and where I can.

What does your writing process look like?

Before writing a larger work, I take notes on paper, getting to know my characters, giving them quirks, and dreaming up scenarios that might take them where I want them to go, although they’ll ultimately decide where they go on their own. When writing fiction, it is me and my laptop. I play instrumental music to match the mood of what needs to be written. When writing nonfiction, such as my blog, I write the piece in Word first, freewriting and then editing. Once completed, I copy and paste the piece into my blog. If I were to write a research paper, there is a whole other process that includes outlines and notecards, rough drafts, and peer reviews. So, the writing process is situation-dependent for me. Kind of hypocritical because I teach students one method for the writing process. But shhhhh.

How do you think AI will affect the writing field, and what are your thoughts on AI?

AI “hallucinates,” is what my friend Adam the Librarian told me, and I’ve seen it in essays “written” by students. AI is easy to spot. It fabricates quotes and attributes them to sources that they are not from. AI cannot write creatively. It cannot write conflict. It steals your voice if you allow it to edit your writing; it words things how you, the writer, would never dream of wording your pieces. It’s not you. It cannot be you. What you, the writer, have to offer is far better, more creative, and imaginative. I allow AI to help me with grammar and punctuation from time to time, especially when I’m doing the flying fingers thing, though I keep my own voice and style; I give the AI suggestions the boot. How will it affect the writing field … sadly, it can take the place of artistic writing voices and replace them with lack of imagination and dullsville writing. I hope more writers will avoid AI than will choose to use it. I will continue to do my own writing – good and bad.

Overall, do you think the internet has improved or worsened the writing field?

It has greatly improved opportunities for sharing your voice and publication; however, the field is oversaturated, which means that voices, if they get heard, don’t get much more than their 15 seconds of fame. It’s the same in music and art. We are oversaturated, and because of that, it isn’t easy to stand out. Push, though, don’t stop. Keep going because you love it. Write because you’re compelled to. I am not fully answering the question, so back on track … in the sense that there are more opportunities, this is a vast improvement. However, those same opportunities have saturated the writing field with overwhelming amounts of poor writing.

Does location (the state you live in) matter when looking for jobs in writing?

I’m a college professor, not a full-time writer, so I’m making an educated guess, but I would think that states with large cities would offer more opportunities.

Is writing a fairly flexible job, as far as having an independently made schedule, juggling a family, and other things in life?

It depends on what variation of writing you’re involved with. Are you a freelancer? Are you a blogger? Are you a reporter? The answer to this is also dependent on the person. Go-getter? Get-by-er? Personally, as a college professor, I have time for writing when it isn’t a day of nose-to-the-grindstone essay grading. My schedule is fairly flexible, allowing me to find moments here and there to pour out my thoughts on a keyboard. But speaking to writing as a job, again, that’s not something I can fully speak to.

What is something most people don’t know about careers in writing?

That not everyone can be Stephen King. Each semester that I teach Novel Writing, students come with high expectations of publication and living that writer life, and then I give them writing assignments that have about half of them second-guessing their life choices. In my world, these are not challenging assignments, but for those who underestimate the amount of thought and planning that goes into even beginning the work, it can be daunting. Writing takes thought, planning, and determination. It takes the ability to push through, have thick skin, and care less. It takes understanding that editing is the magic and the work, and you cannot expect to write anything well right out of the gate. There is work involved. Also, people have no idea how much work a writer like Stephen King puts into the novels that decorate our shelves. He has a strict process, thick skin, and determination. He also has an author, who King says, will not let him be Stephen King.

What are good skills to have as a writer?

Beyond skills, having an open mind, a creative and curious spirit, a love of language and communicating ideas, and determination are essential. As far as skills, at minimum a decent command of vocabulary and grammar/punctuation, plus the ability to use tools such as Hemingway Editor without letting it change your voice. Computer skills are imperative. The ability to use Word or Google Docs, or a desire to learn how to do it, and the stubbornness to figure it out for yourself. I had a ‘learn it or else’ attitude with myself, and it paid off when it came to formatting a manuscript, which I had had no prior knowledge of how to do. I am self-taught – that stubborn determination got me there. Also, and this is essential, the skill to participate in peer review—to accept feedback from others and be willing to edit your work, putting the benefit of the work above your feelings. My husband frequently says, “F*&^ your feelings,” and he’s not wrong.

Can you describe writer’s block and how you deal with it?

Writer’s block, schmiter’s block. You have writer’s block? Write about it. Write about how it feels. Write about the frustration. Be raw in your description … let the anguish out. Say it all. Say things no one else will. We all have these pent-up irritations like “writer’s block,” so write it all out. Write about what it feels like to be blocked, to be stunted, to be held back, even by yourself … and then, once the “writer’s block” loosens, which it will, give all of that emotional gunk to one of your characters! Because, hey, characters need to get stuck in their thoughts, too. Use your “writer’s block” to push yourself to better descriptions and characters built out of authenticity that pours out of your own negative experience. Heck yeah. No more excuses. No more “writer’s block.”

Are you working on any books or writing projects right now?

Yes. I have a lot of pre-work completed. Somewhere around 50,000 words of pre-work. That writing is a fictionalized account of my life story because, at the time I wrote it, it was too personal, and I needed to separate myself from it. So … fiction. Now, an intense year and a half of growth, open heart surgery, and healing has passed, and I have new eyes with which to view my own story. It has grown and changed in my heart, and it will now be more than a description of surviving abuse; it will now be a focus on recovery and living life to its fullest despite the past. I have notes. I have ideas. I’m constantly mulling it over, and I have a potential path toward publication. Timing is essential, and the day is just not right yet to get fully started on my memoir. I aim to achieve this feat within the next three years. Additionally, I have considered creating a writing textbook for my Comp II courses, which is also on the burner. Not necessarily the back burner, but it is behind the memoir.

Writing on my blog is a fairly regular occurrence, so that doesn’t fall in this answer/category. Every time I hear of a writing contest, my ears perk up, and I think, I could do that! And then, it’s time to grade papers ….

Any advice or resources when narrowing down and deciding career paths?

Find what you’re passionate about and pursue that.

When you do what you love for a living, you never work a day.

Those are cliché sayings, but they’re true. I live them. Every day.

Accept Critique or Decorate Your Refrigerator

Just completed filming a new author interview – with novelist and OU Professor Rilla Askew and TCC Professor Kyle Hays. This one is TCC official, and I am excited about it. One thing Rilla shared that I feel compelled to share with you now is this … She shared something she heard regarding not accepting critique well. This is especially to those among us who believe their work does not stink or is perfect. The words stuck with Rilla, as I am sure they will with me, and now with you …

If you do not want to accept critique as a writer or artist, “go be talented in your room.”

Ouch, right?

It should not be ‘ouch.’ Artistry in its various forms is communal. Sure, as writers, you write the first draft alone, but every stage beyond that should be with peer eyes on your work. They will invariably see mistakes you cannot, do not, and will not. As writers and artists, we must develop thick skin. We must be willing to be laid bare, vulnerable, and open to growth. We must lay our work out as a sacrifice to the opinions of others in our field. Listen to them. Be willing to consider their ideas. Admit you cannot see your own errors much of the time …

Or … don’t, and “go put it on the fridge with the other macaroni art” (Kyle Hays).

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Sidenote: Professor Hays and I will film 6 author interviews for TCC (Tulsa Community College) this school year, which will be housed in the TCC Archives and made available to TCC students and the public later this year. The 2024-2025 school year interviews are:

Josh Wann – Poet, Short Story/Play/Comedy Writer, TCC Adjunct Professor

John Andrews – OSU Honors and Creative Writing Professor, Author, Poet

Dinah Cox – OSU Creative Writing Professor, Poet

Joshua Danker-Dake – Editor, Science-Fiction Author

Nancy Erickson – Owner of Stonebrook Publishing – St. Louis, Owner of “The Book Professor,” – Focus on Non-Fiction writing

Rilla Askew – OU Creative Writing Professor, Author – Historical Fiction, Short Story Writer

The Antithesis of Critical Thought – A Battle Worth Fighting

“They should all be shot in the head so that the good people can get on with their lives.”

These words, which I read on a social media post thread in the Fall of 2020, will never leave my head; they are etched there for all of the time I have left on this earth. They were written in response to anti-vaxxers choosing not to get the vaccine. The individuals in that conversation appear to believe that the world would be a better place if all those who did not get a C*V*D vaccine were killed off. THEN … the “good” people could get on with their lives.

Am I the only one who sees a lack of logic here?

I’m a Composition Professor, and my job is to teach Critical Thinking skills (the intellectually disciplined process of actively and skillfully conceptualizing, applying, analyzing, synthesizing, and/or evaluating information gathered from, or generated by, observation, experience, reflection, reasoning, or communication, as a guide to belief and action. In its exemplary form, it is based on universal intellectual values that transcend subject matter divisions: clarity, accuracy, precision, consistency, relevance, sound evidence, good reasons, depth, breadth, and fairness. – The Foundation for Critical Thinking). These wildly partisan and close-minded, even hate-filled, words – “They should all be shot in the head so that the good people can get on with their lives.” – were on a social media post written by an individual who also is a Professor whose job is to teach Critical Thinking skills in higher education. I find it beyond concerning that a person who is to teach students to not only think for themselves but also to question ideas and information and to write strong arguments can be of such an opinion, which is, in and of itself, the antithesis of critical thinking. (An Argument, in the manner used in Composition courses, is a statement or set of statements that you use in order to try to convince people that your opinion about something is correct. – Collins Dictionary.)

Common Sense (sound and prudent judgment based on a simple perception of the situation or facts – Merriam-Webster) states that if there are two sides to an issue and the side with the stronger amount of power goes ahead and kills off the faction with a differing viewpoint – within a short period of time, there again will arise an issue on which that remaining group of “good” people will find themselves disagreeing. Will the group in power apply the same “logic” as before? “They should all be shot in the head so that the good people can get on with their lives.” It follows with that type of initial “thinking” that yes, again, the population gets halved. And so on and so forth.

Is this a Slippery Slope Logical fallacy (a course of action that seems to lead inevitably from one action or result to another with unintended consequences – Merriam-Webster)? Or is it straight common sense? I shouldn’t have to ask because the statement that started the conversation is without a shred of actual logic or critical thought but, rather it contains emotion and lack of consideration for opposing perspectives, including ‘science’ which contains evidence to the contrary regarding vaccines that people in power silenced and called disinformation. Why? Ah, there’s that beautiful word – Why.

True argument and strong critical thinking begin with an acknowledgment that people hold different viewpoints – the world around. Not just an acknowledgment but also the willingness to understand the WHY behind the beliefs and ideas of opposing perspectives. WHY is the keyword. Take some time to discover why. Consider other perspectives and why they exist. Think on those based and rooted in experience and fact. Challenge with calmness and rationale those perspectives based on feelings and baseless attempts at argument. These are easy to recognize if you educate yourself, as the curriculum does for my classes, in Rhetorical Devices (a linguistic tool that employs a particular type of sentence structure, sound, or pattern of meaning in order to evoke a particular reaction from an audience. – ThoughtCo), Logical Fallacies (an argument that may sound convincing or true but is actually flawed, leading to an unsupported conclusion. – Scribbr), cognitive dissonance (the state of having inconsistent thoughts, beliefs, or attitudes, especially as relating to behavioral decisions and attitude change. – Oxford Languages), confirmation bias (people’s tendency to process information by looking for, or interpreting, information that is consistent with their existing beliefs. – Britannica), and nonverbal language (the act of conveying information without the use of words. Nonverbal communication occurs through facial expressions, gestures, body language, tone of voice, and other physical indications of mood, attitude, approbation, and so forth, some of which may require knowledge of the culture or subculture to understand. – APA Dictionary of Psychology).

In my Comp II classes, the first week begins with a biography of my life and some unique things about me. Then, I have the students tell something unique about themselves. Each one shares. After this sharing time, I stress how different we all are – and that our upbringings, our cultures, and our experiences shape our beliefs and values, and that none of us has had the same set of those – and because of this we will see the world through different eyes. I talk about how that should be exciting to us … It should entice us to talk to one another in an effort to understand the WHY behind beliefs and ideas, thus giving us an opportunity to learn and to grow and strengthen our own ideas. Then, I address how, unfortunately, we, the citizens of this spinning globe, gravitate only toward those whose thinking is similar to our own, and we are comfortable deciding that any person who has a different set of values or beliefs is wrong – and, in the case of the social media post on a colleague’s page – those with differing ideas should die off – seeing as only people who look like us and think like us could in any way be “good.” I tell my classes that we will rise above the emotion-based dramatic nature of ‘cancel’ culture (the practice or tendency of engaging in mass canceling as a way of expressing disapproval and exerting social pressure – Merriam-Webster), and we will remember that we are all different in beautiful ways, and it is a good thing that we see life from opposing perspectives and that we have the opportunity to look at life with a broader understanding of how small each of us is in the scheme of things, to know that there are bigger things than us at play in this world. In truth, we need each other. We need different ideas and perspectives if we want to … well, that starts me down another conversation, which I choose to reserve for another post.

In my classes, after the groundwork is laid for how to participate in true arguments and be critical thinkers, we discuss how being open to the ideas of others and being able to incorporate opposing perspectives into our arguments pushes us to understand where someone else is coming from, and how it also forces you to understand your own beliefs and WHY you hold the viewpoints that you do. Are your ideas based on assumptions, biases, and/or logical fallacy? Are they because your Momma and Daddy taught you to believe that way? Are they because CNN or FOX told you to believe it? Did you pick those ideas up at your church? Watching a TV preacher? Did your college professor fill your head with those ideas? Or do you have true facts, indisputable and verifiable from trustworthy sources – drawn from research that you yourself have conducted and weighed with logic and common sense sans emotional reactions? Where do the ‘facts’ come from? What are the motivations or beliefs of the sharers of those ‘facts’? Do not just believe what you read and what you are told. Deep dive into information on which you feel compelled to assert an opinion. On a consistent basis, I tell my students to listen in class but not to 100% take my word for it on multiple subjects. I tell them to research the information for themselves. Know why you believe what you believe. Know it.

Recently, a student questioned (outside of class) the source of some statistical data regarding a topic I shared in class. Information I shared with a desire for the students to apply critical thought to the matter – to look up information for themselves. The student wanted to use my information, though, for a research paper in another course. My source for that particular data was one I felt certain another professor might disregard due to political affiliation, so I dug in and assisted the student in locating information in that same vein from a Yale University-based study, which would be a more acceptable source of statistical data for a paper in that professor’s course – being that it was an Academic resource, not a news media source. Be willing to dive beyond depths of comfort and like-minded resources in making an argument. Using data from sources that the opposing perspective will trust or the ‘reader’ will trust is essential. In order to accomplish this, it is incumbent on the arguer to take time with research and knowledge. Think. Know why you believe what you believe and be able to back it up. I digress …

We are able, in class, to discuss topics like racism, consent, and politics because we establish uniqueness and common ground before stepping into ‘arguments.’ We research and bring information to the table, and we hold discussions in the classroom and in discussion threads online – maintaining respect for one another in the midst of disagreement and diversity. I insist on this – and by taking the time to lay the groundwork – this happens on a consistent basis. Most of the time, eyes open, new ideas form, and students find themselves growing in unexpected ways. If I can lead them toward critical thinking – using the rhetorical devices logos and ethos above pathos (Logos appeals to the audience’s reason, building up logical arguments. Ethos appeals to the speaker’s status or authority, making the audience more likely to trust them. Pathos appeals to the emotions, trying to make the audience feel angry or sympathetic – Scribbr) – then I accomplish a worthy feat. Pathos is important, but it is deceiving and manipulative if we get the prettified use of it in ‘argument’ in politics, religion, sales, and law … logical fallacies, cognitive dissonance, and confirmation bias abound.

Every semester, I tell stories. Lots of stories. My life is a playbook of lessons for others in the realms of critical thinking and communication skills. How not to do this. How not to do that. This is what happened when. You know, life events that brought me to this passionate space regarding communication and argument and seeking truth in a sea of serpents and chaotic drama. One particular story I tell every time I discuss the definition of argument and one of its foundational steps is about my daughters, who at this time are 26 and 24. This event occurred 10 years ago when they were 16 and 14, teenagers who knew more than me. Insert a smirk.

It was a sunny day … how’s that for a beginning? I do not remember if it was a sunny day, but I was cooking dinner. In my space, the kitchen. My domain where I stood most days fixing dinner for my family. The 16 and 14-year-old daughters-o-mine enter the kitchen, bringing their fight with them. We will not use the word argument, because this was in no way a true argument. It was emotion-packed – angry and self-seeking – and neither girl was listening (different from hearing – “In their definitions alone, it’s clear to see the big difference between the two. Listening requires attention, meaning it’s active. Hearing is passive — you can’t close your ears, so sounds will enter and be heard. This makes it involuntary.” – University of the People) to a word the other actually said.

“Mom, she ….”

“Mom, she …”

Back and forth they went, both trying to score Mom’s approval – to win the fight. My focus was on dinner, not on their inability to communicate with one another on a semi-rational level, and their mess of need for winning caused my concentration on the task in front of me which included chicken and seasonings to get off track. I turned around, spice jar in hand, and in a calm voice said, “That’s it. You’re neither one loving your neighbor as yourself.” I stared at them. Looking at one and then the other.

Silence. They looked at me. They looked at each other.

The fight was over … they had common ground.

Mom is crazy.

They left the kitchen, no longer fighting, and I returned to making their dinner. Sheesh, people.

Common ground (a foundation of common interest or comprehension, as in a social relationship or a discussion. – Dictionary.com). It is a beautiful place to be, and we only get there by listening to the perspective of others, asking great questions like WHY, and drawing conclusions rooted in commonalities and solutions. Another way to put this is to treat others the way you want to be treated. Am I right? You want others to listen to you and to consider your thoughts, ideas, and opinions. So, likewise, listen to theirs. It’s not complicated.

I write this with the hope that one person will stop and think about the Why as they walk through their day encountering differing perspectives. Ideally, a movement of people who think for themselves would be fantastic … alas, this world and the status of it does not give me that much hope. Always at war. Here or there. Always fighting. Pointing fingers. Selfishness. Narcissism. Me, me, me, me. Dehumanization. Not seeing the value in others beyond being stepping stones to our own desires. You know … the “good” people getting on with their lives.

It won’t stop me, though. I will be an advocate for true argument, for critical thought, for considering the “Why,” for asking questions, for great conversations, for … peace.

I do not push my own politics on students. I strive to teach them to THINK FOR THEMSELVES because I do not want any of them to be sheeple (people who copy what other people do or believe what they are told and do not think for themselves. Sheeple is a combination of the words sheep and people. – Cambridge Dictionary). I have to do this, must do this, because there are those in my career field who preach the exact opposite from their podiums. They embrace cancel culture and indoctrination of masses of students into their own political ideologies. They say things like, “They should all be shot in the head so that the good people can get on with their lives.” Not only them but the news media, politicians, and some preachers are all set on telling people what to believe, and they do it in ways they know people will not question. CNN reported it; it must be true. FOX showed a picture of the breaking scene; it must be accurate. To this, I sigh, and I share here a quote I have in my Comp II syllabus. The portion in blue is what my syllabus holds, but the entire quote is appropriate to this discussion. Too often, “we enjoy the comfort of opinion without the discomfort of thought.” ~ JFK

“The great enemy of truth is very often not the lie–deliberate, contrived, and dishonest–but the myth–persistent, persuasive, and unrealistic. Too often we hold fast to the cliches of our forebears. We subject all facts to a prefabricated set of interpretations. We enjoy the comfort of opinion without the discomfort of thought.” – John F. Kennedy – Commencement Address at Yale University, June 11, 1962

It’s a battle worth fighting.

“A Kiss in the Rain” Lives On?

In prepping my “Novel Writing” course, I came across a discussion prompt where my students must share 3 possible story ideas, and they must give a synopsis of each story. My mind leaped back to a phone conversation I’d had with my cousin, Linda, yesterday evening. Linda read my novel, “A Kiss in the Rain,” and she said there were several characters she wanted to know more about. I laughed – not at her – but because she is not the first person to request stories about some of the other characters in that novel! I’m taking that to mean that they were written well. Pretty cool, really. And as I, in the present moment, read through the discussion prompt for my students, three different storylines came to me as potential storylines for other characters from “A Kiss in the Rain.” Nice! I’m excited!

I’d love your thoughts. Which might you like to read?

1. . John and Victoria Clark’s life together began like a fairytale, rubbing elbows with high society in their town, living vicariously through their daughter Daphne and her accomplishments, and their names on the top lists of charities across the state. They’re proud people. Wealthy people. Until Daphne’s teenage impulsive actions bring ‘shame’ upon the family – at this, the family unravels, the facade of their lives crumbles, and John finds himself in prison – with Victoria on the edge of filing for divorce. When a once-so-perfect life crashes to the ground, is there hope, or are they destined to live in the murky shadow of scandal?

A title might be … “The Judge’s Choice.”

2. She graced the cover of magazines from coast to coast. Journalists clamored to interview her. Senators and politicians wooed her. Adeline was the doll of the stage – a hit on Broadway and in the hearts of men. One, a wealthy bank owner, asked her to be his wife and offered her everything she could ever desire … except George, the man her heart loved. He was poor, a stagehand. He could offer her nothing more than his heart … and she chose wealth. Life for Adeline would never be the same – whisked away from the man she loved – she tried to fit into her new role as a socialite wife … and mother. Until everything fell apart – and she was left with no one … and no forgiveness for herself. Throughout the remainder of her life, she tried to stay off the radar, doing for others as she could but not for herself. And George never left her heart or her side – the stagehand with nothing but love to give – but could it ever be right to hope to right all over her wrongs to him? To her husband? To her child?

This would be titled (possibly) … “The Lady in Red.”

3. Jacqueline’s twin sister Victoria had it all. She was beautiful, vivacious, outgoing, and smart. She could roll out of bed and look like Barbie on parade. From an early age, Jacqueline resented Victoria. Jacqueline’s own hair hung straight as a board, her make-up – when she tried to apply it – ran and made her look goth – no matter what she tried. Her shoulders slumped, and she preferred books over people. Where Victoria shined, Jacqueline stayed in her shadow – invisible … until she ran out of gas one night after work at the Piggly Wiggly. Mad at her luck, she was kicking her front passenger tire when a 63′ Chevy pickup pulled up alongside her, and the driver said, “Tire piss you off?” Then, he laughed – and the music of his laugh entranced Jacqueline. Before she knew it, she married that man named Carl and found herself living with him, a man who would do anything for her, in a rundown old farmhouse while her sister when off to college and married a man who would become a Judge. She envied Victoria, hated Victoria, and she obsessed over everything Victoria had and did. Nothing ever seemed to go right for Jacqueline … and then, her mother died, leaving her to care for her niece and her niece’s child because they lived in her mother’s house. When she saw Daphne, she saw Victoria … and Carl gave her an ultimatum. Jacqueline finds herself at a crossroads of choice. Will she run off the only person who has ever given a damn about her, or will she, in her 50s, find a way to let go of the past. Carl has one foot out the door …

A title for this could be … “A Life Not Lived”

Now that I’ve written these out … I’m really excited about them all! I’d love your thoughts, especially if you’ve read “A Kiss in the Rain.”

If you have additional ideas or characters you want more about, let me know! Like Alice, perhaps. Or Brian? Definitely Robert and Lynne … so many characters! LOL.

Help!

Find Your “Ness”

Daily writing prompt

If humans had taglines, what would yours be?

View all responses

To quote the philosophical Dupree – “Life may knock you down, but you can’t let it rob you of your NESS.”

This is the actual “tagline” for my blog. Don’t let life rob you of your “Ness.” What is Ness? Well, it’s what makes you who you are. Your Ness. Your John-Ness. Your Priscilla-Ness. Your Judy-Ness. Your Joey-Ness. My Dacia-Ness. The spirit of you – your character, your personality, your uniqueness, your vibe … your Ness. I used to wear a t-shirt that bore the words “Find Your Ness” – I wore it out. Time to order a new one, because I love talking to people about finding their Ness.

Sometimes as an icebreaker, I have students write down 25 unique things about themselves. It’s hard for them to do most of the time, so I have to help them out a bit. I do this by giving my own list of 25 unique things about me.

First and foremost, I am a believer. God is real, and Jesus is His Son.
I don’t think God is a Democrat or a Republican, nor does he need America to ” win” anything. At all. Ever. He needs believers to “Act justly. Love mercy. Walk humbly with God.” Micah 6:8. My favorite verse. We do those things; He will do the rest.
I’m a sober alcoholic.
My husband, Patrick, is my very best friend.
Every day at 9:23, I have a personal party – whether it is day or night. If I see the clock say 9:23, I say, “Birthday time!” and do a little dance. Even at 50, I still do this.
I have 6 biological children and 2 bonus kids.
I have 26 pairs of cowboy boots and 3 pairs of miscellaneous boots.
My favorite color is crimson red. I also like black and navy.
My two best friends, Lana and Jackie, and I have been besties for 43 years.
Agoraphobia is debilitating; I know from personal experience.
I can quote most of “The Princess Bride,” “Tombstone,” and “Les Miserables.”
I teach English but struggle with reading comprehension.
Student engagement and “reality pedagogy” are life-giving to me! Thank you, #ChristopherEmdin
Most evenings, my husband and I watch paranormal shows.
Country music – like actual country music – and Southern Rock are my favorites.
I’m the author of 3 novels and several short stories.
I could eat a variant of pizza for every meal of the day and be happy.
When I was in my 20s, I started losing my hair. Talk about devastating. Matt Dohlman, PA, in Tulsa, OK, fixed me right up and got my hair healthy and growing back – even though a doctor in St. Louis told me I was a lost cause. Ah, “Science.”
I think you can find something to laugh about no matter your circumstance.
The focal point of the classes I teach is critical thinking. Yes, I’m a professor who actually teaches students to think for themselves. I never push my own opinions on them. In fact, I do not share my personal opinions in class, nor do I count off when they share something opposing my beliefs. If they can show evidence for their viewpoint, then bravo!
When I write a multiple choice test, most of the wrong answers have the word “pizza” in them. I tell students, “Don’t pick pizza!” before the tests.
My sisters-in-law, my mother-in-law, and I all have the same tattoo.
It is my greatest joy that my 6 children love each other and communicate regularly with each other.
I’m a domestic abuse survivor.
Once, a student told me that my laugh scared him, which made me laugh even harder.

Who are you when no one is looking? When people are looking? Are you self-aware? Do you KNOW yourself? What makes you who you are? That’s your Ness.

The idea comes from “You, Me, and Dupree” – an ostensibly silly movie, but Owen Wilson’s character “discovers” himself – what he sees as his purpose, and I freaking love the end of the movie. https://youtu.be/sKFlL_G9S0c

“Life may knock you down. Scratch that. Life will knock you down. But you can’t let it rob you of your Ness” – Dupree.

Ah … our Ness.

What’s your “Ness?”

Mother, Ma, Mom, Mommy, Queen B

Daily writing prompt

If you had to change your name, what would your new name be?

View all responses

My real name is Teacher Lady Mom Gal Married to a Man Who Loves Her

Yesterday my name was Abuse Victim Stuck in Religion’s Rules

Tomorrow my name will be Vibrant Beast Shaping Lives While Being Beautifully Bold

In my dream, my name was Woman Surrounded By All of Her Children and Grandchildren at Christmastime

My children call me Mother, Ma, Mom, Mommy, Queen B

My husband calls me the Love of His Life

The name I call myself is Blessed.

I wrote this name poem, during the “Intro to Creative Writing” class I taught in Spring 2023, when the student’s writing prompt from “Poemcrazy” by Susan Wooldridge was …

“Use word tickets to help get you started creating new names for yourself. Try some of these starters:

My real name is …

Yesterday my name was …

Tomorrow my name will be …

In my dream, my name was …

My husband, mother, son, boss (etc.), thinks my name is …

Always listen for the opposite. If you’re getting serious, let yourself become silly. If you’re getting silly, become serious. Pile on a name after a name to see what emerges. Break rules. Surprise yourself. Your new name might be Breaker of Green Rules, Surrounded by Wasps.

My colleague Gail named the part of her that writes “Minerva.” The old folks in her neighborhood saw her wisdom and told her parents, “You got a little Minerva on your hands.” The name stuck.

In a backyard writing workshop Jeri, a teacher, wrote,

Yesterday my name was Seaweed.

Tomorrow my name will be

hot-hipped black woman.

I will plant each bare foot firmly

and pollinate the radiant air

with my humming.

You may want more than one name for your different sides and moods, and names to change with the seasons. Sometimes your name may be Mint Taking Over, or Mantis on the Rose Bush. Sometimes Manuela. Sometimes Mary.”

The introspective responses from students amazed me, and I joined them in the writing – as I usually do in my creative writing course prompts. I can’t help it; writing entices me. This was the result of my freewriting with the prompt.

My name is Blessed.

BAW – Let’s Be Honest – Who Am I? – Who Are You?

“Let’s pretend there is something under the mask. Is there? Who are you?” p. 52-53

I am:

I’m not:

I adore:

I detest:

I have:

I have never:

I like:

I don’t like:

I love:

I hate:

I need:

I want:

I can:

I can’t:

I’m always:

I’m never:

I’m afraid of:

I’m not afraid to:

I’m pretty good at:

I’m no good at:

I want more:

I want less:

This looks daunting, and I am already calculating what I am willing to answer and what I am not willing to answer with honesty. Ironic when the point of the Burn After Writing challenges is to be authentic. Here I sit facing this list, and I am thinking about how to not be my real self on more than one of these. How often do we do this in life? That’s a question I ask myself, but I also ask in general (of you). We hide behind a mask, don’t we? We don’t let others see us. The question is, why? Why are we afraid to be authentic? Why are we so good, masters in fact, at only putting forward what is ‘socially’ acceptable by the elusive “they” out there in the big wide world? We are so good at this that I venture to say that a majority of us running around concerned about what others think and holding back our authentic selves do not even truly know ourselves well enough to answer these questions. This will be my attempt to be authentic and to not hold back. I’m going to give it a go. See what happens. I will be honest at the end about whether or not I accomplished the task at hand.

I am: concerned about answering the following questions with authenticity.

I’m not: going to let that stop me.

I adore my husband Patrick. He is my best friend, the love of my life. He never raises his voice at me. He is patient with me. He teaches me. He challenges me. He laughs with me. He tells me I am beautiful every day. He treasures me. He loves God. He has been sober for 36 years, and he has encountered God in ways throughout his adulthood that most people I have come across just don’t or won’t – including myself. He has lost two children, and he has maintained his faith in the goodness of God throughout his pain. He stands on his convictions, and he lives life on a day-at-a-time basis – full-steam ahead. He’s all man. And he loves me.

I detest gaslighting and narcissism. The more I learn about it, the more I have come to realize that those who have narcissistic traits know what they are doing to their victims. Somehow they justify their behavior, and the drama and trauma they strew about this life are disgusting – actually, it is evil.

I have my dream job – being a professor is what I am made to be. At least at this stage of my life. When I was younger, my parents (who were both teachers) said to me that I should be a teacher, and I was like – heck no! So, I ran from that – until, in my mid-30s, I sat in a classroom beginning my journey toward a master’s degree, and the teacher was boring. She was beyond boring. She was a drain on my time and every student in that classroom, and I determined sitting in her class that I could and would do it better than that. It clicked, and I was on a course to be the best teacher in higher education that I can be. I will be engaging and passionate about my subject because that’s what keeps students listening and learning, and growing. I love what I do.

I have never been good at dancing – a wallflower, if you will. And I am married to a dancer. Patrick is an incredible dancer – he can two-step and other dances and fly around that dance floor, and I stand by feeling all awkward … when, here’s the truth, I am too concerned about what others think about how I look out there on that dance floor. I need to and will just put myself into Patrick’s hands and let him spin me around. Just like I do with him in so many other areas of my life. I trust him in so many other ways – this one feels superficial now that I’m writing about it. Apparently, we need to go dancing. He will be thrilled. Oh, I just remembered that recently, “Sweet Child of Mine” came on at home, where we listen to music a lot, and Patrick was sitting by the fireplace smoking, and I let myself go … just for him. Danced like crazy – as much like Axl Rose as I could – felt the music – just for Patrick. He loved it – and I have no idea how it looked, but that man would love me in a paper sack and clogs with my hair in pigtails, so I didn’t care at that moment. Now, Dacia, translate that to the public … why do you let the ‘public’ stop you? Good question. Ugh, to the public. Be your authentic self!

I like pizza. Unabashedly, it is my favorite food, and this is immediately where my brain went when I saw the words “I like.” I like pizza so much that when I’m creating multiple choice questions on exams, I often will toss pizza into the wrong answers, and I tell my students, “Don’t pick pizza.” It’s always on my mind. What do you want to eat, Dacia? Pizza. Where? Oh … see, there’s the rub. Recently, we discovered a restaurant called “Mando’s,” and the pizza there is the bomb-diggity. I freaking love it. It’s “authentic” – whatever that means. It’s delightful, is what it means. I like it.

I don’t like most vegetables. Talk about a superficial answer, but it’s the truth. I settle for helpings of raw spinach in my salads. That, I can eat. Peppers and onions don’t really count, I think, but I like them. Banana peppers – oh yes, load me up. Again, those don’t count so much. I can stomach cooked green beans if I have something to wash them down with. It fills me with pride that most of my children eat vegetables. How that happened, I do not know. It is not because of anything I fed them. The older ones discovered what they were missing out on, and now, Keenan, Kennedy, and Kadi all eat ‘exotic’ vegetable concoctions. I mean, ew, but also, great for them! I’m going to stick to pizza veggies. Well, except mushrooms. No mushrooms.

I love that I have love in my life. I am blessed with a husband who adores me and with relationships that are lifelong; I am indeed a blessed woman, and I know it – In my life, I have collected friends and family that I will always treasure, who I know treasure me. Patrick, Kennedy, Kadi, Lana, Jackie, my Dad, my brother, Veronica, Sonya, Maureen, my mother-in-love Patricia, Jenn Reedy, Sandy, Lauren, Karri, Joanna, Debbie, Rebecca, Jamie, Becky, Rhesa, Kimbra, Dawnnell, Tammy, Lynne, Kristi, Jessie, and more that I am typing too fast to allow my brain time to recall. On any given day, I know I can reach out to any of these people, and we will pick up where we left off because there is love there between us – love that is authentic and honest. Through the years, I have been naturally drawn to people who were strong and honest, and I look through this list, and I see it on all of them. Strong. Lovers of God. Loyal. Dependable. My people. There are days that I forget about how much love I have in my life because I focus on my failures as a mother, and I beat myself up, and I cry, and I think because I am not raising my youngest children, that I am not somehow worthy of love. What’s interesting is that not one of those people I listed above thinks this way of me because I am not raising my youngest children. They know my story. They love me and the fight I have given to survive and find myself, and the growth I have experienced. I am grateful for the love I have in my life.

I hate that I do not see my children on a daily basis. Of all things in life that I might ‘hate’ – that is it. To be a mother without her children is the worst. I addressed this above, and I do let it cause me to fall into self-hate at times when I let pathos rule my mind and heart, but then, I think. I push aside the emotion, and I remember my story. I remember what I walked through that brought this situation into existence. I remember the anger, the hate, the abuse, the narcissism, the drugs, the alcohol, the lying, the adultery, the psych ward stays, the suicidal thoughts and plans, the diagnoses which were wrong, the medications I was given, the therapy, the counseling, the torment, the fear I lived in for far too long. I remember the healing years – not days, not months, but years. I know what PTSD is. I remember that I was not in a healthy state of mind to fight for myself or my children for a very long time. I believed the lies that I was unworthy, that I was nothing, that no one would want me, and the one I told myself – I might as well be dead. I hate all of that. I hate remembering my story – BUT, God has given me many opportunities to talk with other women who need to be told they are worthy and that they are beautiful, and that there is forgiveness and love and life beyond pain. So, I focus forward. I am here on this planet at God’s will, and while I am here, I will be a woman who shares hope. That is what I will do – move forward each day focused on the day at hand – pursuing hope and peace – and telling my children they are loved as often as I can. I pray for each of them daily, and I ask that God direct their paths – that He brings them into His arms and His peace and that He uses them for His glory! Amen, and amen. It is for me to be in this day – and be what He needs me to be. Get thee behind me, devil; you may not fill my head with your anxiety, fear, or past torments. Not today. I am God’s – bought and paid for by the blood of Jesus Christ. Amen!

I need not much – in truth, I have what I need. I’m sitting here thinking over what I “need,” and nothing comes to mind except that I need to make a dentist appointment. I do need to do that. I have two cracked teeth. Eek! Maybe admitting that on here will ensure that I get that accomplished.

I want the dramas in my family’s life to come to resolutions. Father-son scenarios. In-law scenarios. Ex-scenarios. These are not all my stories to tell on the internet, but suffice it to say, I want peaceful resolutions so that we can move forward with happy get-togethers and build healthy grandchildren! Yes, to that! Right? Yes! Let the next generation be healthy by those of us living in today’s world getting our shit together. Holy cow. I mean, really. Fix your drama. Get over yourself. Life is short. Stop letting your feelers get hurt, don’t stay hurt, and stop holding on to grudges. CHOOSE to be at peace with people so that we can concentrate on raising up small, healthy warriors who have a crazy future ahead of them! They need to be armed with as much love and clarity as possible! Oh, my word! I want to knock some heads together.

I can only do what is mine to do. Patrick and I talk about this a lot. I naturally want to take responsibility for the actions of other people, and this is something I can no longer do. I am responsible for myself only, and I will do what is mine to do. That is … love on the people that God puts in my path. That is what I can do, and that is what I will do. I can and I will. End of story.

I can’t hold onto the past or its pain any longer. I will not live in fear, nor will I allow the past to cloud my future.

I’m always grateful. Every day I am grateful. Three years ago I had “By Grace” tattooed on my arm as a daily reminder that I am saved by Grace, and I am to live by Grace. I am grateful for Grace. I am grateful for God’s Grace in my life – that no matter what I’ve done, He works with me, and He directs me, and He forgives me, and He loves me. He wants me to choose each day to know that I am His – living in His Grace. I know this, and I am grateful. No one can take this away from me. No one. It is a beautiful thing to live under the Grace of God the Father. It took me looking at up Him – like the woman in John 8 – for me to grasp my need for His Grace, and I am unwavering in that understanding now. That is why it is tattooed on my skin. It is a daily knowledge.

I’m never unsure of my husband’s love. This is what came to mind first with “I’m never.” I know that I know that I know that this man loves me. He and I would spend every waking moment together if we didn’t have jobs that took us away from each other during the day. I’m a professor, and he’s in construction. Not sure how to marry the occupations, though when I’m not teaching and working on school stuff, I am at his side – learning about building, remodeling, and handing him screws – which I do quite well. I’ve gotten so adept at being his helper, that 9 times out of 10 I can anticipate what he needs before he needs it. That’s fun! I may be unsure of other things in the world, but never that this man loves me.

I’m afraid of a couple of things – though when I think on them both – I know that eternity steps in and the fear subsides. First, I’m afraid of my time with Patrick being cut short. We are older. He’s almost 60, and I’m 50. We didn’t meet until later in life, and we want to live each day to the fullest while we can. There are times when the reality of our ages and that construction has taken a toll on him over the 45 years he’s been working reminds me that time is fragile, and that makes me fearful because I do not want to be without him, nor does he want to be without me. Life is unpredictable, though, and we cannot go around living in fear of death. Neither of us is afraid of death because we believe Heaven awaits us, but neither of us looks forward to some time left on the earth without the other if one goes before. Live each day to its utmost. That’s the goal. With gratefulness. The second thing I’m afraid of is losing one of my children. Patrick has been through that twice – and I cannot fathom the depth of the anguish he feels. I hold his hand in those moments when he’s overcome by missing his son Brad who passed on at the age of 27 in a car accident or when he is missing out on what could have been with his son Collin, who passed away in his first day of life. I don’t want to know what that feels like. He does, and I love him through it the best that I know how. I do know a level of grief because I live without my children – it crushes me some days and moments and I can only imagine what that compounding with never see again in this lifetime would feel like. Those are my fears – but again, I know that this life is short, and on the other side of it, there is Heaven with the Father and with Jesus Christ. So, I choose to not live in fear.

I’m not afraid to admit that I have weaknesses and faults and I have failed in exponential ways in this life. I choose to be open about where I have fallen short because it also affords me the opportunity to talk about God’s Grace. In my extreme fear of conflict, for many years, I never learned how to stand my ground or stand up for myself. I lived in fear of the unknown and fear of the known. I just lived in fear. To this, I will not discuss fear of what – though it was many things – I will not, though, out of respect for my children discuss their father. I will only discuss my own part in the demise of life in those years. I developed agoraphobia and rarely left my house for years; I developed a dependence upon alcohol to get me through my life instead of relying on God – because I believed my prayers for help went unheard and unanswered; I believed I didn’t deserve the grace of God – He didn’t hear me. I was a blob – an unlovable blob. I became an alcoholic, but I also turned to men – attention seeking and drinking – both drowning my pain as much as I could, but it was never enough. I committed adultery – and found myself farther down any hole I could have ever have nightmares about being inside! Drowning pain was all I knew, and I lost my ability to reason – drowning in alcohol, fear, emotion, hate, succumbing to anything and everything that might make the pain stop. None of it did. I found myself divorced, living with my parents, diagnosed with Borderline Personality Disorder, and clinging to life – struggling to believe God could heal me from any of it much less even want to heal me, forgive me, love me … but He did. Today, I am on no medicine. I have no Borderline Personality Disorder – it was PTSD and alcoholism. I have been sober for 2 years and 4 months. Daily I thank God for his Grace. I am whole – and coming more fully into understanding what it is to live a sober life – sober in a fullest sense – a thought-provoked existence based on the knowledge that I am bought by the blood of Jesus and my life is His – not my own. None of this am I afraid to admit. This is me, and what I know is that God is good. I cried out to Him from the depths, and He heard me. There was no quick fix to my failures; it was a process of my own coming to terms with my responsibility to my Father in Heaven with this life that He gave me – what I do with it and how I love. Again, I am grateful.

I’m pretty good at engaging my students. This is where I shine. In front of a group of people, encouraging them to think for themselves – to consider possibilities – to research – to learn communication techniques and skills! It’s like a funny switch gets flicked, and I’m suddenly an educational funny gal who is passionate about helping people better themselves! I say I’m an “Edutainer.” Not sure if I made that term up or not, but I claim it. I teach Comp I, Comp II, Creative Writing, and wrap History, Government, and Psychology in wherever I can – always pushing students to think for themselves! Critical thinking skills are always the goal. In my own life, I understand my great need for those, and so I push and encourage and teach my students to develop those NOW, not later in life like I did. I tell them I will never score them low because I might hold a different perspective than theirs – as long as they can support their belief or opinion, then they get the “A.” I am not out to make apostles of Dacia, but I am out to have each one of my students able to navigate life and argument and critically think through all that life tosses them. At the core of it is my love of Jesus – who told me to love God first and to love my neighbor as myself – which I strive to do – and when asked – outside of the classroom, sometimes my students and I talk about God and religion and we have church. The Scripture says where two or three are gathered in my name, there I am also – meaning Jesus, and He shows up. Every time in conversation, I present an argument. They present an argument. We consider one another’s perspectives. We move forward with life. It is not for me to know what their choices are beyond the window of time I am given to speak into their lives. Good stuff. I wish more people could develop the ability to respect opinions outside of their own. What a world we could live in if folks would try that way of living.

I’m no good at math. Hahahahaha. I tell my students not to ask me to help with their math homework. It’s not that I’m bad at math, I actually got an “A” in Calculus my senior year of high school, and I quite enjoy Algebra. It’s that Geometry crap – and decimals and fractions – and real world math. That’s what fingers and calculators are for.

I want more time with my children. If I write much more here, I will cry ugly tears. One day. That’s what I tell myself. One day. It’s not for me to determine – God plans my path now; I am not trying to interfere with what He has in store. But yes, I want more time with my children. Want, want, want, want. But … I will do each day as it comes.

I want less ugliness in the world. A couple of years ago, I was connected with a few coworkers on Facebook – on one of their threads, I read a conversation between my coworker and their friend where it was stated that anyone who believed [politically] different from them should be shot in the head, so that the “good” people can get on with their lives. I sit in faculty meetings with this individual, and I think to myself while engaging with this person, you’d be okay with me being shot in the head – and yet, here you sit oblivious to the fact that I’m one of those people because I am able to separate work and politics. I am not at work to make political or religious followers. I am work to create a capable work force – giving TCC a strong reputation for assisting the Tulsa community with quality employees. Needlesstosay, I cleared my Facebook of those I am not of one accord with. In fact, I shut that account down, and only recently, started a new account that is full of those who I would share pictures of my grandchildren with. That’s my thermometer. It’s private. Not many have need to know about the inner workings of my life and the lives of my grandchildren, so it’s staying smallish this time – my social media. There’s just so much ugliness out there on the internet and in the world. It is my belief that I am to be a light in the darkness, and that is what I will strive to do while I am able, as long as God has me here, but I will do that in the classroom and in line at Lowe’s – not on social media.

And there we have it. This BAW list is complete. And yes, I was honest – bluntly so. I’m grateful for that – to be in a space now where I can say, “Hey, y’all, this is me. Like it or not. This is me.” I’m going to live each day to the fullest and strive for peace in all things. I will declare that God is good. I will live gratefully – knowing from what and where He has brought me and looking forward to where He takes me.

I challenge you to complete the list too. Be honest about who you are. See where it takes you.

Burn After Writing – You Can’t Look at Yourself Without Changing

Picked up this little book “Burn After Writing” at Walmart while shopping with my daughter, Kennedy.

It begins, “You can’t hide from the truth, but it sure as hell can hide from you.” It goes on to declare that you must consent to the sacred values of BAW to begin answering the questions in the book. These are: “I will answer with relentless, painfully searching honesty all questions within. I will use the power of the magical random ‘haveaflickthru’ to select the most relevant question for my present state. I will take a walk through the corridors of my mind and open all locked doors.” These, according to the creator of BAW, are “noble and courageous values,” and anyone who completes this book joins “the society of truth and self-knowledge.” I’m here for it. I do not promise to write a BAW post daily, but I do want to see where the journey into the world of Burn After Writing takes me.

p. 4 “My Firsts”

The section begins with these words: “A first is like an earthquake of the soul. Unforgettable, unsustainable, and radically destructive. But out of the wreckage of our clumsy and passionate firsts comes a fabulously interesting and resilient adult individual. Our tragedy is that we always hope that the first time will last forever.” True, true, true. So here are my firsts – according to the ones the BAW book asked for.

First Friend: Becky Painter-Robinson is the name that comes to me first. We were toddlers together at Mrs. Basinger’s house. She, Mrs. Basinger, was our babysitter during the day while our parents worked. We have been friends now for close to 50 years – it’s not a daily friendship, but it’s one that when we see each other, the smiles are sincere and large, the hugs are precious, and time melts away. That’s crazy but very cool. You know, still to this day, I say that no one can make a bologna sandwich like Mrs. Basinger. I’ve tried. Cannot replicate that deliciousness.

First Love: Mike Anderson. He was 17. I was 14 (almost 15). Spanish class in high school. Senorita Guillermo de Hijo was the teacher. Never will I forget him, a senior, walking into the room, laughing with his friends, and then choosing the seat next to me – this shy little girl in the 10th grade. Didn’t stay shy long. At least not around him.

First record/CD bought: How about a cassette tape? It had to be Amy Grant’s “My Father’s Eyes.” I was a die-hard Amy Grant fan for years. In fact, I wanted her to be my big sister. I loved her hair, her songs, her voice. She seemed so nice. There are times I will look up one of her songs just for the nostalgia of the moment. “Straight ahead, I can see Your light. Straight ahead, through the dark. Straight ahead, there’s no left or right. Straight ahead, to your heart.” Love her.

First foreign holiday: So not sure about this one … Cinco de Mayo? I mean, I don’t really celebrate it, but I don’t know that I celebrate any foreign holidays that are not atypical American holidays. What an odd “First.”

First Job: Hill, Glenn, & Kern in McAlester, Ok. I was a senior in high school, and I worked for their accounting firm from 3:30 p.m. to 6:00 p.m. M-F. I input data into computers – what we now consider ancient computers. It was all data entry and binding customers’ tax returns. Some answering phones. I enjoyed it there, and I’m grateful to our family friend, Tom Glenn, for having hired me to work for him and his partners. He was also the mayor of McAlester at the time, so it looked nice on my college applications that I worked for Mayor Tom Glenn. That was when I started realizing how important references were – and from then forward, I was intentional in ‘rubbing elbows’ with people I needed as references for the future I wanted. Learned this young, and I am grateful!

First car: Well, I’d like to skip to my 1985 Nissan Maxima, which I named Maxine. She talked, and in 1989, that was cool. She said things like, “The door is ajar,” and I’d so ‘cleverly’ say, “No, it’s a door.” Like she could hear me. BUT … Maxine is not my actual first ride. I drove my dad’s 1971 Chevy pickup for a time. It was blue and white, and every time I see one like it now, I flood with wonderful nostalgic feelings. That truck was fun! I’ll never forget after I started driving Maxine, a guy at school (Marc Alexander) said to me, “That car doesn’t look like you.” Guess that old truck and I had become synonymous. I was okay with that, but Maxine and I soon became very tight. I had her until 1997, right before Kennedy was born, and we decided we needed a mini-van to drive with our two kids.

First concert: Carman. Most of you are thinking … Carman? Yes, Carman. He is a Christian singer out of Tulsa, Ok. His songs “The Champion” and “Lazarus Come Forth” are still on my list of favorite songs of all time. In my growing-up years, I never attended a concert that wasn’t a Christian artist. My first ‘secular’ concert was Alan Jackson, and I was in my late 20s when that happened, so that was a first, too.

First School: Will Rogers Elementary in McAlester, OK. Kindergarten only. My mother was a teacher, so I moved around town with her. For first grade, I attended William Gay Elementary, and then we moved to the North side of McAlester, and Mom and I were at Edmond Doyle Elementary – 2nd – 5th for me, much longer for her.

First Kiss: Scott Walker. A lifelong friend and brother. Getting ready for our date, I had burned my head with the curling iron, and I didn’t feel good. We went to Sonic, and then he took me back home. On the walk to my front door, he asked if he could kiss me. It was a sweet peck. It’s a nice memory – makes me smile. Gotta say, though, the first “real” kiss was much different. That would be Mike Anderson – and before giving me my first real kiss, he turned on the song “Slide It In” by Whitesnake, and on the chorus, he sure did stick his tongue into my mouth. Yep. I’ll never forget that.

First teacher: Mrs. Latham, Kindergarten. She was an older lady, but I remember her being kind. Now … Mrs. Owens, my 1st grade teacher, she, was cool. Beautiful and cool, and I wanted to be just like her. She’s still a beautiful woman all these years later – and the mother of one of my lifelong friends, Eric.

First Alcoholic Drink: This was at the age of 32, and we were out to dinner with our Pastor and some friends. Pastor Don Sharp told me I would not go to Hell if I tried an alcoholic drink, so I ordered a Strawberry Daiquiri, and there was no lightning strike. It was tasty, and unfortunately, a few years later, I fell headlong into alcoholism. There are days I wish I had never taken that first drink and never known what it was to drown my anguish in alcohol. It’s not a fond memory.

When was the last time you did something for the first time? Supposed to be honest here, and the true answer to this question is TMI, but I’m good with that. The last time I did something for the first time was two days ago while in the arms of my husband, Patrick. I let go. Completely surrendered to him, to the moment, to the spiritual connection of our love, let go of all inhibition, and experienced the ethereal. See, I have always, despite numerous sexual encounters, been reserved and guarded; I was used to being just a body – and letting go was not in my ‘bag of tricks.’ Patrick and I are both astounded by this love that God has gifted us with. Never am I just a body to him, and never is he just a body to me. Every time we are together, it is more than sex. It is making love. This week … it soared to a level I never dreamed possible – not for me. Utter freedom, ecstasy, and peace – blessed by our Father in Heaven. I tell this husband of mine often that He is the one God made for me. Of this, I have no doubt.

Firsts are fun to think about – there are so many. First time I experienced labor. The first time I saw my first baby. The first time I dropped a baby … oh wait, should I say that? The first time I found a Barbie boot in a poopy diaper (that only happened once), the first car accident, the first book I had published, the first time I stepped into a college classroom as the teacher, the first time I tried to hit someone, the first time someone hit me … Yeah, lots of firsts in life, and they will continue to happen because there is still so much to experience. I love “firsts” because we learn from them about ourselves and about others – or at least, we should.

Here’s to firsts! And here’s to Burn After Writing. When I make a Burn After Writing post moving forward, I will include BAW: in the title and tags. Picked this little book up at Walmart; I’m sure it’s available online too. I’m looking forward to journeying through it.