Tyler Colins's Blog, page 66

What’s Our Story?

It seemed appropriate to end the “What’s -?- Story?” posts with one aimed at actually writing one.

Maybe you’d like to tell your story, be it in a short post or a long book, or something in between.  But you’re not quite sure where to begin.

First, give some thought as to who’ll read your story: your audience.  Family and/or friends?  Your blog, social media, and/or website followers?  The public?  Do you want the story to be narrated by yourself or would you like to present it as a tale of fiction?

**  Determine your audience.  Decide how to relate your story.  **

Next, pick up a pen or sit at the keyboard, an audio recorder, or a combination thereof, and start.  Record what you’d like your story to entail, what to share and how to communicate it.  Is there a message?  Do you have something you’d like people to learn about or from?  Are there life lessons?  Or maybe you’d simply like to entertain?

**  Start by summarizing your story/life into three-four sentences.  That’s your focus, your description . . . your blurb, as it were.  **

Do an outline and don’t worry about the flow; you can determine how it should progress (timeline/timeframe) later and delete and rearrange accordingly.  In terms of incidents and events, and memories, you can always consult with family members and friends.  Their remembrances may vary and that’s a good thing—it’s called perspective.  Maybe you have some journals/diaries stuffed in drawers?  They’ll help tweak memories.  Old photos?  Use them, if only to fine-tune recollections.

**  Write down critical/essential junctures (two, five, ten, twenty) in your life that are crucial to your story.  They’ll help shape the narrative.  Whether you use them all is ultimately up to you.  **

If your story leans toward heartrending or sad, or tragic, you may want to add a few happy or cheering moments/events.  I don’t know about you, but I’m a “sobber”, a multi-tissue-box kinda gal.  It’s tough on the eyes and nose to always be bawling and blowing.  Prompting a laugh or two—even a smile—is a welcome break.

**  Give thought to what you’re sharing and why.  Maybe it’s a personal purge.  Nothing wrong with that.  Maybe lessons you learned would help others.  That’s noble.  Contemplate how tragic/emotional/funny/life-changing the story should be . . . how much you want—and are willing—to reveal.  **

This post could easily go on for several pages or be divided into a few. There’s a lot of “advice” to be provided re outline steps, narrative, writing “rules”, and the list goes on (and on).  Perhaps I’ll do that at some point but, for today, I just wanted to provide some food-for-thought ideas re you getting started on your [amazing] story.

[image error]

[Looking forward to reading it!]

What’s THE Story?

What’s THE Story?

Hey, it’s Rey, the last and best in the story posts.  There are so many, it was tough to determine which to share.

Following the template created by the gals before me—specifically The Boss, Linda, and JJ—away we go!

∞ Personal ∞

A two-parter.

The first is about the prickly relationship between my mother and me.  She didn’t much care for me becoming an actress, something I knew I’d be come hell or high water when I was nine years old.  When I left home at 19 to pursue that dream, it created an even bigger rift.  In truth, though, we’ve never been close.  Her thoughts about life and the cosmos and all that were a bit odd (okay, if I’m going to be totally honest, they were downright loopy).  Since I’ve become a P.I. the two of us have made an effort to forget the past and accept each other for who and what we are. [image error]

Is it working?  Yeah, kinda.  Time will tell.  So while the final “Mom & Me” chapter has an outline, a full draft still needs to be written.  It’s all good.

Linda, JJ and I are in the same boat re lack of relationships.  Considering I’ve been married three times, I’m not that keen on commitment.  And given that most of the guys I’ve dated have been major duds, yeah, so not keen.  Confession: I like flirting.  It’s fun!  Sure, I wouldn’t mind having someone to date on a semi-steady—but not serious—basis.  I like eyeing gorgeous guys, being in their company, having them feed my ego.  That’s fun, too!

I think, though, that the relationship I really need to develop is the one with me.  I have a lot of growing and learning to do (as Linda has said on more than one occasion), and I’m kinda looking forward to that.  So the “Rey & Co.” chapter, at this time, is only a list of points and to-dos.  I’m guessing it won’t be completed for years to come and that’s all good, too.

∞ Professional ∞

Another two-parter.

I was a B-actress for years, as you know, and still do some acting, mostly in commercials and, now and again, community theater.  Love being in front of the camera too much to stop doing it completely.  It’s the ham in me (as Linda has also said on more than one occasion).

Do I see myself returning to it full-time?  Maybe, when I’m older—as in retirement older.  So the final “Rey the Artiste” chapter won’t be available for a few decades.

Then, of course, there’s the Triple Threat Investigation Agency.  I enjoy being a P.I.  Love it, love it, love it!  I even get to act now and again when we’re trying to get info outta someone or snoop around a business or company without attracting attention.  It’s challenging and dangerous, for sure, but it’s also rewarding, and I’m not just talking financially—it’s very satisfying helping people in need.

The last chapter of “Private-Eye Rey” will have to wait to be completed.  There are a lot of scenes still to happen.  Love it, love it, love it!

∞ Lucky ∞

Took me a while to find the right adjective.  Life hasn’t always been smooth.  I’ve struggled to eat and pay rent.  I didn’t (don’t) always get along with people.  But I’ve been lucky to do what I’ve wanted to (dreamed of), meet some fantastic folks, live and work on the beautiful island of Oahu, and grow as a person.  I’d never admit that last one to Linda, but I truly believe I’m developing and changing.  I haven’t been much of a reader or learner, but I make an effort—nix that.  I don’t try: I do.  May not always be successful, but that’s not important.  It’s what’s accomplished, even if only to declare, “I did that”.    That sounds more like something Linda or JJ might say. [image error]

Yeah, I’m very lucky and I’m gonna keep counting my blessings.

What’s Her Story?

It’s JJ on story post patrol today, with my cousin Rey taking up the rear.  As she’s been [not too humbly] saying: the best is yet to come.  Uh, yea-ah.  Oops, that just netted me “the look”. 

In keeping with the personal, professional, and story model, allow me to share mine.

 Personal

Which one re personal, though?  The one about the father I never knew?  That the family is exceptionally eccentric . . . to a fault?  How Rey and I rarely got along when we were young?  That in my early teens I fantasized about marrying royalty?

Mom would never talk about “Dad”.  I don’t even know his name.  Some detective, huh?    I should put the ol’ P.I. skills to the test and find out who he is/was.  But then . . . do I really want to know?

Just looking at the Fonne family names tells you how unconventional we are.  Blame that on the grandfolks, Elmer Finkston and Jocasta Genvieve Fonne.  Grandfather was VP of a company specializing in joke novelties and fun gizmos, and Grandmother possessed a hysterically funny streak that could humble (and crumble) any stand-up comic.

That Rey and I get along so well now is amazing.  When we’d not attempted to shove each other into a bog or pond during summer holidays, we’d endeavored to bury each other’s faces in the dirt—for no other reason than we couldn’t stand each other.  She thought me pitiful Pollyanna; I thought her woeful wannabe.  One time, we were so engrossed in smacking each other silly, we nearly trashed the summer cabin we’d been banned to for the day (courtesy of a rambunctious food fight we’d initiated at a family picnic).  Uncle Charly lost a toupee (an ugly thing that looked like uncooked ramen noodles) and Uncle Flex no longer possessed that furry eyebrow (the two had melded into one long fox-moth caterpillar).  They were so not happy. [image error]

I will [hesitantly] confess that I’d had my heart set on wedding into a certain royal family.  Unfortunately, they weren’t of the same mind, not having had the pleasure of meeting yours truly and determining that I’d be the “perfect girl” for their prince.  (I must also confess that I am somewhat envious of Meghan, lucky .)

The final chapter is undecided.  In truth, there are several to be written . . . every one in its own sweet time.

 Professional

My foray into weather reporting had never been intentional.  I’d studied film for two years, then decided I didn’t care dealing with mega egos.  Environmental studies seemed a better option—and more respectful.  I could and would save the world, protect endangered species, and contribute to the termination of global warming.  When I got goosed by a crazed Canadian goose and gnawed by a disgruntled goat, I realized wildlife was better left to those with the calling.  A local cable station admin job rescued me from additional wildlife mis-adventures and, eventually, I became a meteorologist.

While I love being a private eye, I do miss weather reporting.  I suppose I had/had Rey’s acting ambition, because I thoroughly enjoyed being on camera.  I also, however, liked researching community events and local news, and putting together informative specials.  It wasn’t unlike being a P.I. now that I consider it—i.e. researching and assembling facts, and providing findings.

The professional story also has a few chapters still to be developed.  Although Rey, Linda and I often discuss our future as private investigators—expanding the Triple Threat Investigation Agency and all that—who knows how I’ll feel a decade from now?  Presently, though, I’m happy to go with the flow; the stream is winding yet smooth.

 Satisfying

My adjective/word of choice.  Satisfying because everything is proving gratifying and fulfilling.  Agency work is fairly regular.  The new house is filled upcoming projects, which will require new skills, so learning adventures are on the horizon.  Satisfying because all seems fairly untroubled.  Maybe my love life isn’t happening but, as a result, there are no squabbles or tension to contend with.  There have been no life-changing disagreements with my coworkers, simply the silly little ones everyone experiences off and on.  Life on this lovely Hawaiian island is truly very satisfying.

Who could ask or wish for more? [image error]

What’s My Story?

The three of us pulled straws and I’m the first to post.  It’s Linda, the smart athletic one from the Triple Threat Investigation Agency.   Oh-oh, got “the look” from Rey. 

The plan for this post: follow The Boss’ template and run with it.

Personal 

My life didn’t much begin until I was married—too young—to Chiffre Royale, a sax player who doubled as a heroin addict.  Bad times.  Good times.  He was a sweet guy when he wasn’t hurting.  And a damn talented musician.  Chiffre died way too soon.  It wasn’t long after his passing that I became a screenwriting assistant and, subsequently, met Rey.  That’s when life—my story—truly began. [image error]

Recently, I started communicating with my sister and brother.  We’d never been close and never much cared, but we’re endeavoring to stay in touch and get-together regularly.  I’ve acquired “family”.  It feels . . . nice.  Like I have roots.  Who knows how things will ultimately transpire but, for now, we’ll simply go with the flow (an overused but legitimate expression).

The final chapter of my personal story is still unfolding.  There’s so much to do and learn on an individual, private level.  How exciting!

Professional

I’ve always enjoyed writing and learning.  That’s why I became a scriptwriting assistant—to develop a skill and acquire knowledge through research and experience.

I take courses whenever possible.  Besides being fun, blogging is a great teaching tool—for me and through me.  It’s an awesome feeling to pass along helpful information or prompt a smile.

I’m definitely growing as a person and evolving as a private eye.  The professional path is a lengthy, winding one and I’m looking forward to every step.  This, too, is exciting!

Excited

Definitely—and obviously—the word of choice.  I’m thrilled about what’s happening in my life and what’s to come.

How can I not be?  I live in Hawaii, thoroughly enjoy being a Triple Threat Investigation Agency P.I., have learned to surf, and am constantly acquiring knowledge (Rey claims my head’s filled with a load of trivia).  But first and foremost maybe, I’ve started taking so much better care of myself.

My trilogy of stories are simple and plain.  I suspect Rey’s are going to prove outstanding (she can be quite melodramatic, as we all know) and JJ’s will certainly prove interesting.  And that’s the exciting thing about stories: there’s always a beginning, a middle, and an end . . . and they can constantly  be rewritten. [image error]

On that note, my humble self will mosey along and contemplate all the positive—exciting—things in the making.

What’s Your Story?

We all have one—personal, professional, life-changing, funny, sad, and/or .

Given I’m a writer and blogger, it seemed appropriate to share mine.  But which one?  . . . Well, why not two or three: personal, professional, and faith-bound [adjective of preference].

 Personal

As I grow older and [finally] mature I view life and events from different perspectives.

Some of us have wonderful parents, others have tolerable/fair ones, and a few have ones we wish could be returned to the Customer Service desk.  I grew up with alcoholic parents.  Mom was nasty, Dad quiet (save for glassy eyes, you could never tell he’d been “imbibing”).  I didn’t like my mother much and she—gauging by the attitude and comments—didn’t much care for me.  Childhood and adolescence consisted of humungous tummy knots and treading on eggshells.  Imagination was my BFF. [image error]

The final chapter of this personal story is that I eventually realized my father did love me in his unique, undeclared way.  His own life events (including internment) had shaped him and he did the best he could considering the circumstances.  Mom had made unwise choices and blamed the world—and me—for them.  Maybe it wasn’t the right thing to do (blame someone else) but decades later I finally understood the reasons behind those choices.  I forgive her.  I even love her (she is my mother, after all) and I’ll continue to take care of her during these twilight years.

Professional

I’d wanted to be a writer since Mr. Kennedy complimented something I’d written in Grade 7 English class.  My childhood BFF, Imagination, had already nudged me into composing comics and chronicles.  Later, they evolved into books.  Confession: I wasn’t good.  At all.  Joining writers’ groups and taking classes provided guidance, and while I absorbed all I could, I didn’t necessarily apply it.

Serving as ESL and SE teacher/trainer, and technical editor, didn’t help in the creative writing front.  It was only when I heard instead of listened, read other writers (by the truckloads) and sat back with a truly critical eye that it all started falling, slowly but surely, into place.  That true “a-ha(!) moment” arrived after what seemed a short lifetime.

The final professional chapter will be written the day I finally lay down the four-ink pen and leave the keyboard behind.

Life—and work—is all about learning and growing, realizing and applying.  It’s all so very good.  Tricky and testing, but very good.

Faith-bound

Maintaining faith has been a struggle.  Although I sincerely believe in the Big Guy, his Son, and the Good Book, I—like many—frequently ask “why?”  “Why me?”  “Why this?”  “Why can’t I get a break?”  “Why . . . why . . . why?”    Maybe it’s easier to view ourselves as victims, to place the blame elsewhere.  Accepting responsibility and/or taking action can prove daunting.

We’re given challenges for various reasons.  In my case, I honestly believe He wants me to learn forgiveness and patience.  The forgiveness I believe I’ve acquired, the patience—hell no.  Oops.  Heck no.  I truly am my father’s daughter: he possessed none, either.

The last chapter in this story is that I will master patience.  It will continue to be a struggle, unquestionably, but it will happen.  My faith will grow and stabilize . . . and I’ll be a better person for it.

There you have it.  Three short-and-sweet stories that have shaped me and/or will continue to do so.  It feels good to purge, to wear the ol’ heart on the sleeve, to be honest and open.

The next three posts—more stories—will be authored by the trio from the Triple Threat Investigation Agency.  (Rey’s already pumped up.)

And what about you?  What’s your story? [image error]

Do Better, Be Better . . . than Better

We’re almost one-quarter of the way through the year.  Time doesn’t just fly, it soars like a rocket-powered aircraft—a North American X-15.

The gals and I were chatting the other day about what’s been accomplished so far this year.  Like, have we stuck to resolutions?  Did we realize an achievement?  Did something profound or life-changing occur?  What about 2019 going forward?

In terms of the Triple Threat Investigation Agency trio, they’ve had a number of small [successful] cases.  Nothing out of the norm, per se, but every one has proven challenging one way or another.  And they’ve just started on a major one that’s promising to become quite involved—it appears there’s another serial killer on the loose.

Rey’s not quite sure why “nutcases” are attracted to them like magnetite, but isn’t complaining; she loves being a private eye, even if it sometimes gets very hairy.  To deal with loonies, JJ’s thinking psychology courses might be worth pursuing while Linda’s all for taking more intensive defense training.  They knew becoming professional P.I.s would involve danger and that’s fine.  They’ll keep going with the flow.

In terms of myself, I’m doing much the same: going with the flow as best as possible, given those curveballs Life occasionally throws at you.  Other than recently signing up with Creativia, life is streaming along like a calm, countryside brook.  The current is barely visible, but it is moving.  And it’s all good.

What would I like to have happen over the next three-quarters of 2019?  Besides making mega bucks or winning the lottery so I can leave the 9-5? 

   Have less stress.  For sure, a lot of it I place on myself (I’ve always been a stresser and worrier).  So I need to crush it.  Not an impossible task.  It merely takes faith and application.

   Continue writing/blogging and embrace more followers.  Work with and support fellow writers/bloggers.  Not just dip my toes into that lovely, warm burbling brook, but truly immerse myself.

   Be more optimistic.  The aforementioned stress can dim mood and outlook.  I’d like to view life, and the world, through rose-tinted glasses . . . for a while, at least.  Reality has its merit, but idealism never hurts, either.

[image error]   The plan, then: to do better and be better than better.

Making Choices / Feeling Good

Last weekend I posted about contracting with a publisher.  As with most things in life, I’m always a tad nervous about taking on something new (okay, a lot nervous).  Not sure why.  Just am.  Silly me, I know.

In any event, as posted, I took the plunge and signed on with Creativia.  So far, so good.  In point of fact, pretty gosh-darn good!

After joining the Creativia Facebook team, I received numerous greetings from fellow authors.  It was heartwarming to be welcomed in such a, well, welcoming manner. 

Who knows where this [new] publishing road will lead?  All I know is that I’m pleased to be on it.  Perhaps I won’t make much money, if any (I’m a realist), but I’m definitely looking forward to this new adventure and learning all I can along the journey.  [image error]

Yes, having to make choices can be [very] scary—but there’s nothing better than feeling good about actually making them.

The Journey: Choo-choo-chooing . . . to a Close?

Confession time.  I haven’t been enjoying posting on this blog for quite some time.  I’ve outgrown it.

I have but one follower (thank you SO much, Joanie) and that’s fine.  The purpose was simply to post, to challenge myself: to write something on a weekly basis, something close to the heart, something of interest or “cuteness” . . . something.

And I did for a few years.  But with time being tight now, I’d prefer to use it for my true love: fiction writing and blogging (on my writer’s blog).  That provides much pleasure and a wonderful sense of accomplishment.  I enjoy sharing my knowledge and experiences, communicating "tips", meeting fellow bloggers and making friends, and disclosing my e-book exploits. 

So-o, if there’s no post this time next week, you’ll know this blog is no more.  It was a great learning and growing experience, but there comes a time when you have to cut the apron strings (at least with some things).

Next week: same time, same place . . . ?   

Kinda Corny, Kinda Cute

I’m in need of some cuteness again . . . given it seems in limited supply (and demand) right now.

So-o . . . what about that animated commercial with the strumming and singing beaver?  It’s kinda corny, but it’s kinda cute.  The starring beavers are just plain appealing and even the song is kinda fun and catchy.

It also delivers a valid message: for those of us who have cottages and/or opportunities to boat and fish, be aware of hydro-dams and stations.  In other words: stay safe.

Stay Clear, Stay Safe – A Cautionary Tale, was made for the Ontario Power Generation (by an agency called The Hive), and is aimed at Canadians.  Basically, it revolves around Dammy the Beaver trying to catch a fish when his boat capsizes.  Oh no!  Poor Dammy.  Does he die?  Tell us it ain’t so!?

You’ll just have to watch it to see what happens.   

https://youtu.be/KGcDWQ0S294

 

Innocence ReFound

Ambling to the gym this gray-misty morning, I sighted a crumpled, crinkled Disney-themed wading pool at the side of the road.  What great summer fun it must have provided. 

It prompted thoughts of innocent times . . . how the smallest, littlest, tiniest of items could prompt smiles and laughter . . . how we, as children, found pleasure in the simplest things . . .

. . . A sandbox, pail and shovel.  A scooter.  Marshmallow strawberries.  The neighbor’s water hose.  A shiny quarter.  Hopscotch and skipping.  Crayons and paper.  Pen and notebook.  A doll.  Home-baked cookies.  Store-bought treats.  A rainbow.  A cat, a kitty.  A dog, a poochie.  Hamsters and mice, and even rats.  Everything cute and/or curious.

How wonderful to view the world with child-like purity, cheer, and optimism.  And how delightful it would be if we could forever maintain that outlook (some do, I imagine, and how blessed they are). 

If only even for a few moments, it was awesome returning to a long-gone past and recalling times that seemed special . . . to view life through young eyes . . . to feel like a kid who’d just found the prize in a box of Cracker Jack and then got to indulge in the yummy sweet peanut-popcorn treat.

Here’s to embracing simplicity and reclaiming innocence.