Heather S. Ingemar's Blog, page 38

Life doesn't pause…

Well, I spend the weekend sick. Joyfulness. (Not.)

However, around here life doesn't stop just because you're under the weather. I managed to can 14 quarts and 6 pints of pears off our tree (I really should have gotten on it sooner, most of the pears were too far gone to be much use), and then Hubs and I went and got another load of wood for the winter. It's a comforting feeling to see the winter woodpile grow and know that when the weather is inclement and the power goes out, we'll still be warm.

In addition to the serial story, "Shatterproof," that I'm polishing up for you all, I've been working on the lyrics for a couple of songs… I don't know yet whether one or both of them will turn out; they're still in the concept and early drafting phase, but I'm intrigued and we'll see which one makes the cut.

Today I'm catching up on my house cleaning… One of my less favorite chores (though I do love the end result), but necessary. Canning turns your (or at least, my) kitchen into a disaster area….!

How are you all doing this week? Got any projects (fun or otherwise) you hope to work on?

Shatterproof: Prologue

 The phone line crackled, spewing static like grinding pebbles into his ear.  Wincing, Collin held the phone away for a moment, then pressed it close again to hear his friend's words.

Please.  Promise me you'll look after her?

"Why me?" he said into the phone.  "Don't you have relatives?"  He hated the words as he said them.  The phone went silent for a long moment, and he worried the connection had been lost.

I do, but… it has to be you.  I don't trust anyone else.

"But—"  He took a steadying breath.  "I don't think she'd be safe with me; remember what I am, John."  I'm a killer, he thought, but kept it to himself.  John had always tried to convince him otherwise, but the proof was in the pudding.  He didn't belong, not with mortals like John's daughter.

He felt ill.

Listen.  I don't know how long I've got until they come for me.  Just, please?  Please do this for me.  John's voice was pleading, almost begging, and it was the one thing Collin couldn't stand.

"Sure thing," he said with a sinking feeling, and wondered what he'd gotten himself into.

A moment later, he asked, "Does she have any clue about what's going on?" He spoke as gently as he felt able, deciding for the moment to humor his friend and pretend he hadn't just made a promise he might live to regret.  The telephone line gave off a faint hum.

Collin frowned as the silence stretched out again.

I'll tell her.  I promise; if I have enough time, she'll know.  Everything.

* * *

(This piece is part of an ongoing serial story. You can catch up on the plot via the Serials page. If you liked this work, please consider purchasing one of my other stories, or some of my music for your collection. )

Show them, show them all

Photo from Together Be Happy

There are too many nay-sayers. Especially in the creative field, it's all too easy for others to belittle your work and aspirations. Their reasons are many — It's not a 'proper' job, chances of success are slim, you'll starve because there's no money or security in it… And some will even go so far as to criticize you out of your passion because it's  "for your own good."

Don't listen.

DO NOT LISTEN.

Think if every artist, musician, or inventor allowed themselves to be talked down. No Galileo, no Da Vinci,  no Rembrant, no Van Gogh, no Mozart, or Bach… What a sad, bleak world, eh?

Even if you don't succeed beyond your wildest dreams, with fame and fortune and a guitar-shaped swimming pool, you'll still have done something worthwhile. As a creative soul, it's so hard to keep going, sometimes. I have several moments when I'm driving down the road on my way somewhere and I think "what if my songs and stories really are crap and they mean nothing?" (and it scares the living shit out of me). We all have our fears…

But we very rarely know how our work affects others. Could be that piece of art you created gave someone a moment of peace that the really needed. Could be that person was right on the brink of giving it all up, and your single piece of artwork gave them a reason to keep going. Could be they heard your song or read your story or saw you dance right at the right moment, and they saw something in you that they really needed to see.

We never know.

Hard Decisions

You may have noticed I pulled all the purchase links for all my Drollerie titles yesterday.

Sadly, it is time for a parting of ways. Due to the serious and ongoing health issues of the company's owner, CEO, and head editor/creative director, things are — unfortunately — looking bleak. In an effort to protect my stories and my rights should the company be sold (it is, as of this moment, still a mere rumor), I have made the very tough decision to pull my work.

I still think fondly of Deena, and I have the utmost respect for her as an individual. She's quite the creative lady, with quite the incredible vision. Sadly, it's looking like luck has other plans…

That said, I do intend to seek re-print publication with my other publisher, Echelon Press. I will let you all know the outcome.

Be Alright

Last week was a really rough week. Seemed like bad karma or mojo or whatever had it out for me. You ever have one of those days when everything you try to do feels backwards, turns out wrong, goes completely astray? It's moments like that when we need someone to just give us a hug and tell us it's okay. Thankfully, my husband is good at that (so long as I remind him he doesn't need to solve anything. Just a hug will do. ) So here's a song about it. I'm still fine-tuning the melody, but so far, I like it. AND it's my first song where I fiddled around until I found a non-standard chord of my own design for a little texture. So I'm proud of that.

Here's looking forward to a much better week than last…

I don't know what road I'm on

Can't turn around; it's all said and done

So scared that I'm not the one

But in your eyes

I'm just fine

And in your arms

The world can't harm me

And all it takes

Is for you to say

It's alright

It's gonna be alright

Most days feel like a war

Life shouldn't leave you this torn

Afraid I can't do this anymore

CHORUS

I feel like the worst at the worst time

But you can tell me otherwise

CHORUS

It's alright

It's gonna be alright

Be alright

Let Me Go — in 2012

I feel like it's time to just go ahead and spill the beans…

I have plans to release a full-length album sometime in the first part of 2012!

You can click the image for a little more information — it's still 'in progress,' so my track listing will grow and possibly change a little in the months to come.

In the meantime? I hope you enjoy listening to my other music releases, and catching me live at various venues in the months to come.

Library Ghost: a Quirky Flash

"Library Ghost"

By Heather Stearns

(formerly Heather S. Ingemar)

*

They all laughed at Farah for suggesting it.

"Ghosts aren't real! And what would one want with a bunch of missing books, anyway?"

They laughed at her until humiliation spread burning and heavy over her cheeks, and she fled to the relative safety of her cataloging desk. Maybe she was silly for suggesting it. The Moreland Public Library was a new building, an ordinary building. Nothing traumatic or violent or horrible had happened within its walls. So why, after every minor incident, did she immediately think 'ghost'?

Farah had no explanation, just a sick little prickle up her spine, which every librarian knows is not a well-supported answer. And so, when the next batch of books – by King, Dickens, Roberts, and a medical non-fiction book on Ebola – went missing in action, Farah kept her mouth shut.

Still, they laughed at her. One of the shelvers snickered and made spooky noises as she passed Farah's desk on the way out for the night. The branch manager grinned and waggled her fingers like the ghoul in the old Nosferatu movie after bidding Farah to not stay too late.

Farah ground her teeth and snatched the next book for processing off the pile.

As the hours wore on, the library settled like a giant beast into slumber. The clicking of her keyboard keys entering book information into their system grew loud as a deep silence stretched over the stacks. A prickle raced up Farah's spine. Her fingers faltered on the keys.

"I know you're there." Farah swiveled in her chair and scanned the dark stacks. Shadows welled between the shelves, hiding the bright spine labels on the books. She wanted to add "even if they don't," but couldn't quite bring herself to say it out loud.

The air system clicked on. Farah turned her chair from one side to another, listening to the hum of the equipment. She rubbed the back of her neck. The air shut off, and the quiet was like death. Maybe she did simply have an over-active imagination…

Thump!

Farah flinched in her chair as a book somewhere in the stacks fell off a shelf. The noise seemed to reverberate in the empty building. Farah held her breath, then let it out slowly. She'd better go pick it up. She edged herself from her chair.

Thump! Thumpthump!!

Everywhere, books came off the shelves. Farah shrieked and planted her hands over her ears as the library came down around her. Books rained from the shelves and slithered along the aisles. Papers rustled and took to the air. Farah shrank against her desk in fear. Books bumped her legs, scraped past her shoes as they traveled toward the common area. Hardcovers galumphed their way over paperbacks, the oversize books tumbling behind. As literature and non-fiction met in the middle, they swirled together to create a huge column rising toward the ceiling. Farah peeked between her fingers and saw that the mass assembly of books was not just a column.

It was a figure. A huge, human-shaped figure. It beckoned to her, and she unfurled herself from the floor. "And they don't believe me," she huffed, suddenly angry.

The book-creature shoved a hand through the glass-topped computer station and ripped the tower free. Cords and circuitry dangling, it dropped it at Farah's feet. A slow smile crept across her face as she picked up the book scanner from the wreckage.

"Oh, but we could show them, couldn't we? We could make them see."

The creature took the scanner from her. As it whirled the corded device around like a nunchuck, it laughed with a rustle of papers.

* * *

If you enjoyed this and would like other stories of a similar, unusual, and slightly spooky nature, please check out my other works (mostly pubbed as Heather S. Ingemar) on OmniLit, Amazon, Fictionwise, eReader.com, and Barnes & Noble.

Excerpt from the welcome address by Karl Paulnack (via Vicki Genfan's website)

I found this off Vicki Genfan's website this afternoon. It's the welcome address for a Freshman college class given by Karl Paulnack, pianist and director of the music division at the Boston Conservatory. I read this and couldn't help feeling like I needed to cheer at the end.

The responsibility I will charge your sons and daughters with is this: "If we were a medical school, and you were here as a med student practicing appendectomies, you'd take your work very seriously because you would imagine that some night at two AM someone is going to waltz into your emergency room and you're going to have to save their life. Well, my friends, someday at 8 PM someone is going to walk into your concert hall and bring you a mind that is confused, a heart that is overwhelmed, a soul that is weary.

Whether they go out whole again will depend partly on how well you do your craft. You're not here to become an entertainer, and you don't have to sell yourself. The truth is you don't have anything to sell; being a musician isn't about dispensing a product, like selling used Chevies. I'm not an entertainer; I'm a lot closer to a paramedic, a firefighter, a rescue worker. You're here to become a sort of therapist for the human soul, a spiritual version of a chiropractor, physical therapist, someone who works with our insides to see if they get things to line up, to see if we can come into harmony with ourselves and be healthy and happy and well.

Frankly, ladies and gentlemen, I expect you not only to master music; I expect you to save the planet. If there is a future wave of wellness on this planet, of harmony, of peace, of an end to war, of mutual understanding, of equality, of fairness, I don't expect it will come from a government, a military force or a corporation.  I no longer even expect it to come from the religions of the world, which together seem to have brought us as much war as they have peace. If there is a future of peace for humankind, if there is to be an understanding of how these invisible, internal things should fit together, I expect it will come from the artists, because that's what we do. As in the concentration camp and the evening of 9/11, the artists are the ones who might be able to help us with our internal, invisible lives."

Yes. YES.

Vicki Genfan Talks about Songwriting (via Luna Guitars' Blog)

If nothing else, watch the video and listen to her play. She's amazing. Completely and totally amazing. The sheer range of sounds and rhythm she can coax out of that guitar blows my mind.

Vicki Genfan is, my friends, a master at work.

Luna Guitars' Blog

Review: Stage Performance

Stage Performance by Livingston Taylor

My rating: 5 of 5 stars

This was a FABULOUS book.

Taylor has a wonderfully candid way of explaining every aspect of a "performance" so that even the most rank beginner can feel comfortable getting up on stage. He goes through everything from overcoming your fears to managing the business side of a budding career, and the best part is he speaks from practical experience (unlike so many books I've found on this topic).

But where this book really shines is in his discussion of the 'magic' that happens on stage — the communication between performer and audience. The reason is because 90% of the books on the market that tout being able to make a performer out of the reader do NOT even touch on the actual act of performing — they only discuss the aspects leading up to the stage. There's usually very little discussion of the things that come during and after. Taylor, however, goes into great detail outlining what marks a good performance — especially a good performer — from a bad one, and his tips for success are very straightforward.

I highly recommend this book for musicians, as well as anybody who has to get up in front of people for any reason. There is an immense amount of good to be found in this book for all form of public speaking, entertaining, or musical performance.

View all my reviews