Kim Luke's Blog, page 2

We get by with a little help from . . .

 The day begins as many others do, a cup of coffee and my laptop for a quick review of the day’s happenings and social snippets.  If you want others to know about anything, you can post/pin/tweet or put yourself on your own channel. 

      We are fortunate to have a family and beyond that some are granted an extra measure of blessing through friendships who give us a thumbs up or a share, a virtual pat on the back and words of encouragement. But since a click is all that is required to throw “some love” one’s way, can it compete with the real thing? What value do you place on those in your “amen” corner?      We show our commitment to a relationship with our actions, not our words and not only a click. Today I am grateful for the many who I consider friends who have shown me through their actions they support me. As a writer I didn’t realize the lens I would be looking through. A whole new appreciation of that word support. Who knew a budding dream was so fragile anyway? Testing the waters, the toe goes into the water and gradually with the courage you only prayed for, the whole body is immersed. With blue lips and chattering teeth we make our way, holding the hands of those on the shore as they help ease the stage fright and their one word of encouragement takes you through the next week. Words of encouragement are vital nutrients to feed our soul and the magical fuel helping weary spirits to soar once more. If you encouraged even one person today you did something wonderful. Everyone needs it, everyone.     

      Though life’s lessons we know most of the encouragement will have to come from our own personal belief in ourselves. Many times there are just no hands to hold. You adjust to the waters temperature and pray once more for skin that is just a bit thicker to sustain until a friendly hand grasps yours, and you continue on the journey. One evening at the end of a great day of family time, I gave my update to precious ears who always listen when I tell them about my book progress. I asked if they could gather outside, because I wanted a photo for my next book. There was not one complaint or even a question as to the reason, seriously my family is the bedrock of it all. This photo is on the back cover of my newest book Black Inferno. A shield with hands grasping around it. Our son took the picture while teetering on the railing of our deck, and holding the shield along with me are my husband, our three daughters, another son and my dad. Although my map is inadequate this picture is my beacon and who could ask for more than that?

There is Fruit in the Land of Uncomfortable

Ok, something incredible just happened! A box arrived! I already know what the box contains, I have been tracking it for days. It’s my first shipment of BLACK INFERNO! You might think I’d rip the box open and grab the top book to hold the product representing so much of my time, energy and passion. But I quietly made a cup of tea and here I sit at my computer writing this blog. WHAT??? Yes, you read that correctly. Why? You may ask. My first thought is I won’t want to come back to this task at hand and finish but that is not the real reason.

It’s hard to explain, but I have dreamt of this moment for so long, holding my second book in my hands, that I simply cannot treat it like an ordinary moment. It is deserving of so much more. When the time comes, I will look it over lovingly front and back, I will open the cover and read the book dedication and the biography. I will tenderly turn the pages and run my fingers across a few lines. Then I will kiss the cover and hold it ALL DAY LONG. So few moments like this come along in life, I want to snap a few pictures and I want my husband and any of my kids who can to be by my side. Those who love me have had endless hours of ear bending over all things Circle of Sun. Bless them.

It is so much more than a cover and pages with ink. This tangible thing is a product of only a dream that has been painstakingly created from within me. The book was first just a thought, then a dream. A dream is a precious gift. With time and fuel and elbow grease a dream becomes a goal with a target. Every day I asked God to bless my efforts, and to guide me. I asked Him for his blessing on this bumpy journey and I promised I would attempt to put some light into the world, even if it’s only a small flame.

I never considered not completing it, not one second. And it all began with the first book, Circle of Sun. Enough time has passed that I can look back with some objectivity about why I started writing stories.

Writing about experiences, journaling as therapy, using words to communicate has been a part of who I am. But writing a book was born out of great pain. I wanted to be by my Mom’s side every moment when she was so ill with ALS. Her care consumed my dad, who was her devoted caretaker. I traveled to spend time with them. My whole world changed….my busy, high energy, steep schedule, candle burning at each end lifestyle was stalled. I was sitting still and I wasn’t communicating with anyone. Just me and my thoughts and my computer. There was no distraction great enough to ease the pain of the impending loss. Some stages of life require strength far beyond our capabilities. He supplies the strength, and I found solace in writing.

The only time I could find a peaceful place was when I was journaling. I could fill my thoughts with something that wasn’t pain and fear. One afternoon I watched nature’s fury in the form a snowstorm from my bedroom window. The wind blew the fresh snow across the pond. That scene was so beautiful I was inspired to write about it in my journal.

“The white snow rests peacefully, wrapping its arms around a frozen pond. The ice lies stoic and formidable except for a dancing wind-whipped veil, swept one way, until nature changes her mind and sweeps it another. Each snow-covered pine surrounding the pond stands gallantly devoted. The scene is so entirely peaceful, so breathtaking, so magical, that time is suspended. Here and now is where my mind’s gossip can stand exposed for exactly what it is. Barriers in the maze of uncertainty dissipate. Everything is clear.”

I read over what I had written. I still am not sure how the logic applies, but it was in that very instant I decided I would write a book. And I started on it right away. I had no storyline at all. I slept on my decision and began the next day. I started first with characters that I liked. I had no idea what I was doing. But writing felt so good, and it helped me cope, occupied my mind.

Eventually my storyline came together, grew into an outline. The excerpt above from my journal is part of the first book Circle of Sun. The learning curve has been so steep at times and I have had plenty of frustration and put myself in the land of uncomfortable. The process has given me some bumps and bruises, doubt and sleepless nights, but it doesn’t compare to the joy that I have experienced in this process.

All of that has brought me to this place. Loss is not something we can escape. He gave me the grace to endure the pain, and the gift of a dream to pursue. Like turning a sharp right corner, my direction is changed and the unplanned journey becomes a path leading me home. Time to put on some lipstick, uncork some wine and open the box upstairs.

A couple of Nuns, a Priest, some shoes & Mom

Happy Mother’s Day to my Mom! Happy memories are the storybooks of our past. How blessed we are if we have many of them stored within our hearts. Taking one off the shelf to “read” and enjoy as often as we wish. Here is one of my favorites.

My Mom was not really like other Moms at all. Being original was nearly her religion, which offered up a few challenges when you were just trying to “fit in”. One day there was a knock on Sister Thomas’ third grade classroom door. It was announced by Sister Thomas that I was to come to the door because my Mother needed to see me. Immediately I am thinking I have a dental appointment, or some other equally important urgent matter. After I get my hug from my Mom who is carrying four shoe boxes, she explains that she was out shopping at an incredible shoe sale, and I needed to try all these on, so she could choose a few pairs. Yes, friends…I am taking my shoes off in the hall way while glancing through the small narrow window on the classroom door to see if any of my peers are viewing my shoe fitting session. I was embarrassed and excited all in the same 5 minutes. (the shoes were CUTE!) In a jiffy Mom was on her way, shoe boxes under arms and I was back in class. I know my Mom had not purchased the shoes before bringing them to the school and I can only imagine that conversation.

Mom gritted her teeth a little while making sure we conformed to all the rules of our parochial school. Being the free spirit she was must have taken some real self control. Unfortunately there were a few times she made her opinion on some of those rules known to the administration. Yes, it was a rule that if you wore sandals you MUST wear socks! Apparently there were no naked feet allowed at Holy Family Catholic School.

On a particularly hot day, Mom suggested that I remove the white furry knee high socks that I was wearing with my sandals, before I returned to school from my lunch break. (Clearly NO fashion police at Holy Family!!) Mom felt it was just too warm to wear those darn socks, and I eagerly took them off and made my way back to school. I barely had taken two steps onto the playground when Sister Catherine ordered me straight back home to get SOCKS ON! My Mother was so angry that they sent me home in the heat for the second time, she yanked my school jumper and away we flew in the car to the school office so she could “visit” with the principal. My anxiety was growing as I could see she was pretty worked up. Well, Mom said her peace to the teacher, and once the principal joined the conversation my Mom said the words that capped off the day. “Clearly there is nothing wrong with wearing sandals without socks, Jesus did, it’s in the bible….look it up.” And she yanked my jumper in her angst and we went home.

I don’t know how it was resolved, except my Mom said it was now acceptable to lose the socks, like Jesus did. This no sock drama was not quite as embarrassing as when the Priest came to our home for dinner and mom served him wine! I nearly melted into my dining room chair. The Priest accepted it graciously and my parents held friendships with all the Priests from our parish that exists to this day. My Mother may not have been the favorite of the Nuns, but anyone who knew her immediately loved her.

I don’t have any answers to the questions that bombarded me when my Mom lost her health, and after we lost the great lady three years ago in Aug. We all cope in our own ways, and I released the “question game” to the winds and watched it sail away. What remains is gratitude and joy. How incredibly blessed I am to have had her as my Mom. Seriously, the woman was dynamic and magnetic and filled with passion. Her lively and strong spirit fills me and guides me daily, like the needle of the compass that always seeks north. I hold these stories and countless others as best sellers in my archive of memories, and appreciate the blessings and embrace the joy.

A couple of Nuns, a Priest, some shoes & Mom

     Happy Mother’s Day to my Mom! Happy memories are the storybooks of our past. How blessed we are if we have many of them stored within our hearts. Taking one off the shelf to “read” and enjoy as often as we wish. Here is one of my favorites.

My Mom was not really like other Moms at all. Being original was nearly her religion, which offered up a few challenges when you were just trying to “fit in”. One day there was a knock on Sister Thomas’ third grade classroom door. It was announced by Sister Thomas that I was to come to the door because my Mother needed to see me. Immediately I am thinking I have a dental appointment, or some other equally important urgent matter.  After I get my hug from my Mom who is carrying four shoe boxes, she explains that she was out shopping at an incredible shoe sale, and I needed to try all these on, so she could choose a few pairs. Yes, friends…I am taking my shoes off in the hall way while glancing through the small narrow window on the classroom door to see if any of my peers are viewing my shoe fitting session.  I was embarrassed and excited all in the same 5 minutes. (the shoes were CUTE!)  In a jiffy Mom was on her way, shoe boxes under arms and I was back in class. I know my Mom had not purchasedthe shoes before bringing them to the school and I can only imagine that conversation.

Mom gritted her teeth a little while making sure we conformed to all the rules of our parochial school.  Being the free spirit she was must have taken some real self control. Unfortunately there were a few times she made her opinion on some of those rules known to the administration. Yes, it was a rule that if you wore sandals you MUST wear socks!  Apparently there were no naked feet allowed at Holy Family Catholic School.

On a particularly hot day, Mom suggested that I remove the white furry knee high socks that I was wearing with my sandals, before I returned to school from my lunch break. (Clearly NO fashion police at Holy Family!!) Mom felt it was just too warm to wear those darn socks, and I eagerly took them off and made my way back to school. I barely had taken two steps onto the playground when Sister Catherine ordered me straight back home to get SOCKS ON! My Mother was so angry that they sent me home in the heat for the second time, she yanked my school jumper and away we flew in the car to the school office so she could “visit” with the principal. My anxiety was growing as I could see she was pretty worked up. Well, Mom said her peace to the teacher, and once the principal joined the conversation my Mom said the words that capped off the day. “Clearly there is nothing wrong with wearing sandals without socks, Jesus did, it’s in the bible….look it up.” And she yanked my jumper in her angst and we went home.

I don’t know how it was resolved, except my Mom said it was now acceptable to lose the socks, like Jesus did.  This no sock drama was not quite as embarrassing as when the Priest came to our home for dinner and mom served him wine! I nearly melted into my dining room chair. The Priest accepted it graciously and my parents held friendships with all the Priests from our parish that exists to this day. My Mother may not have been the favorite of the Nuns, but anyone who knew her immediately loved her.

I don’t have any answers to the questions that bombarded me when my Mom lost her health, and after we lost the great lady three years ago in Aug. We all cope in our own ways, and I released the “question game” to the winds and watched it sail away. What remains is gratitude and joy. How incredibly blessed I am to have had her as my Mom. Seriously, the woman was dynamic and magnetic and filled with passion.  Her lively and strong spirit fills me and guides me daily, like the needle of the compass that always seeks north.  I hold these stories and countless others as best sellers in my archive of memories, and appreciate the blessings and embrace the joy.

Tell me a story….

From the very moment I could read Dick and Jane I have been mesmerized by books. Parents are on the right track when they place so much value on reading and comprehension and my parents were no different. It was my Mother’s love of reading and the excitement she instilled in us each time we visited the library that got this whole love affair rolling. To add to it she was a very good storyteller. Along with Nancy Drew Mysteries, it was my mother’s stories (mostly spooky) that sealed the deal for this girl. My mother told me many times, “Between the covers of a book, you can visit foreign lands, learn about other cultures, be anyone you want.” Seeing her armload of diverse choices placed in front of the library lady gave me all the permission I needed to explore any frontier I desired. Thank you, Mom.

As a child I read everything from the back of the shampoo bottle to the entire back of the cereal box. I read the newspaper in its entirety since I was in 10. (bored???) I devoured the summer reading program lists and took that love of reading all the way to today. I started writing short stories and poetry in junior high and high school. I still have all of those poems in a folder….oh my. How fortunate I was to have a gifted teacher, Mrs. Schoepf who fanned the flames to further my education in literature. I also still have many of the books of poetry from that time.  The song lyrics of Carol King and Bernie Taupin were some of the most beautiful poetry I enjoyed.  I found so much beauty in the written word, and would revisit it often. I have many books that contain poems that feel like old friends.

Perhaps that is why I decided to write a book. Through the years, when an item I found compelling would cross my path, I tucked it neatly away for a day when I might write a book. Change was the catalyst that started me on this journey. Like a security blanket, expressing myself by keeping a journal,  saved my sanity more times than I can count. It was during a particularly difficult time for me that I had to dive even deeper inside myself to cope. It was during that time that I was given one of the greatest gifts, healing through a creative outlet. Some of you may cook, paint, sing, design or create a masterpiece from some medium. I never have been so satisfied in my life. The joy that I get from writing feels like downright bliss. It’s true, time has a way of healing, but now that my passion is ignited I have eagerly eloped with it, never to return to a world where I am not writing. If each day could allow me at least a few hours of working on my book, I am as happy as a clam. I thank God everyday for my passion.

“You conceive your world in your mind

and then create it with your hands.” ~Chris Widener

Today I am writing the sequel to my first attempt at book writing, Circle of Sun. What is most important to me is entertainment. I am not attempting to solve the problems of the world, or create literature that could stand the test of time, but I am sure hoping you will be swept away from reality for a bit. Our minds could use a little escape that is legal, low calorie and inexpensive! So if mystery and suspense is your cup of tea, I hope you will pour yourself a steaming serving and let me tell you a story. 

Tell Me a Story. . .

From the very moment I could read Dick and Jane I have been mesmerized by books. Parents are on the right track when they place so much value on reading and comprehension and my parents were no different. It was my Mother’s love of reading and the excitement she instilled in us each time we visited the library that got this whole love affair rolling. To add to it she was a very good storyteller. Along with Nancy Drew Mysteries, it was my mother’s stories (mostly spooky) that sealed the deal for this girl. My mother told me many times, “Between the covers of a book, you can visit foreign lands, learn about other cultures, be anyone you want.” Seeing her armload of diverse choices placed in front of the library lady gave me all the permission I needed to explore any frontier I desired. Thank you, Mom.

As a child I read everything from the back of the shampoo bottle to the entire back of the cereal box. I read the newspaper in its entirety since I was in 10. (bored???) I devoured the summer reading program lists and took that love of reading all the way to today. I started writing short stories and poetry in junior high and high school. I still have all of those poems in a folder….oh my. How fortunate I was to have a gifted teacher, Mrs. Schoepf who fanned the flames to further my education in literature. I also still have many of the books of poetry from that time.  The song lyrics of Carol King and Bernie Taupin were some of the most beautiful poetry I enjoyed.  I found so much beauty in the written word, and would revisit it often. I have many books that contain poems that feel like old friends.

Perhaps that is why I decided to write a book. Through the years, when an item I found compelling would cross my path, I tucked it neatly away for a day when I might write a book. Change was the catalyst that started me on this journey. Like a security blanket, expressing myself by keeping a journal,  saved my sanity more times than I can count. It was during a particularly difficult time for me that I had to dive even deeper inside myself to cope. It was during that time that I was given one of the greatest gifts, healing through a creative outlet. Some of you may cook, paint, sing, design or create a masterpiece from some medium. I never have been so satisfied in my life. The joy that I get from writing feels like downright bliss. It’s true, time has a way of healing, but now that my passion is ignited I have eagerly eloped with it, never to return to a world where I am not writing. If each day could allow me at least a few hours of working on my book, I am as happy as a clam. I thank God everyday for my passion.

“You conceive your world in your mind

and then create it with your hands.” ~Chris Widener

 

Today I am writing the sequel to Circle of Sun. What is most important to me is entertainment. I am hoping you will be swept away from reality for a bit. Our minds could use a little escape that is legal, low calorie and inexpensive! So if mystery and suspense is your cup of tea, I hope you will pour yourself a steaming serving and let me tell you a story.

Matchmaker, Matchmaker find me a match…..

             How many romances begin with a chance encounter?   I have a lovely friend who has been happily married for over a decade. But before she met her Prince Charming, she was searching. I am within the school of thought that if my single friend is looking to meet someone, it is my job to be on the lookout for a potential match for her. If you are blessed like me, I’ll bet you have lots of friends that fall into the “fantastic” category! In my heart I know the perfect match is walking this earth somewhere, and I earnestly want to be the catalyst that brings these two together.

Not that anyone has ever asked for my help. The closest thing to a request was a response from a girlfriend when I asked for a description of the “perfect one”.  I was given a rundown complete with bullet points and from that moment on, I was on the “lookout” for her.  I safely tucked her wish list in my heart and mentally referred to it each time I met a single gentleman.  Consequently, I don’t run in too many circles where I meet many single gentlemen. But when I do, I mentally go to work….

~Single ….(most important) CHECK

~ Tall…..CHECK

~Dark and mysterious…..CHECK

~Nice Smile…..CHECK

~Johnny Depp type …..CHECK

This creates a bit of excitement for me when I do meet someone, and I know my face is all bright and eager when I politely ask a few questions of him as I refer to my mental list.  And since I do not want to tip my hand about my selfless quest, it has become clear that the nature of my interest has often been misconstrued.  I might launch my “I have a friend” speech, but mostly they think I am the one interested. The ultimate backfire occurred as my husband overheard my inquisition process at a party and I don’t have to tell you I am no longer allowed to play cupid, or even keep mental lists for my friends. He then reminds me that I have never even come close to actually matching anyone…ever.

Thankfully my friend and her Prince Charming found each other without my help. I still have some very dear friends and even family that I feel may require my assistance.  Despite his disapproval, I am compelled to form a mental list for each of them. If an unexpected candidate comes into my radar who potentially could be a match, I must go directly into full “cupid ninja” mode.  Chance meeting?  Sure… call it whatever you want, just keep it under your hat. Am I the only one here?? Comments welcomed!

The Growing Mystery of Malaysian Flight 370

     Mystery is the element that drives my imagination. I can be driving and see a solitary car and driver sitting at a remote dead end and that is all it takes before I imagine a host of possible explanations and mysterious theories. I remember the phone alert I received on March 8th, 2014, that a flight carrying 239 passengers was lost from radar. Although I am horrified for the people involved, I am compelled by the mystery surrounding it. THIS WAS OVER A MONTH AGO, and currently there has been no sign at all from Malaysian Flight 370. My prayers go out to those tortured hearts waiting for answers  and to those missing and feared lost. 

     I find myself imagining all kinds of possible scenarios to their fate. Could the plane have been hijacked and diverted? Flight transcripts suggest no reported mechanical trouble. No communication of any kind exists after the routine communication between aircraft and tower. As of today there are no reports of frantic cell phone calls/attempts from even one of the passengers or crew. Was the plane was going too fast or high to register with cell towers, or could passengers have been prevented from making those calls? The reported sharp turn the plane made seems to be intentional suggesting foul play. But with no demands made or responsibility claimed, the hijacking theory seems unlikely.  

     Maybe whatever happened, happened suddenly and the sharp turn would be an attempt to reach an emergency airport. When I imagine a sudden catastrophic event (decompression, a fire,  or an explosion) would every single passenger have become incapacitated at the same time preventing any one of them from attempting phone calls? And if this sudden emergency situation prompted a premeditated sharp turn, it would make sense to assume the pilots would simultaneously alert ground towers to the emergency. Which leads me to agree with another possible theory. Slow decompression from a crack in the fuselage.

     Slow decompression rendering passengers unconscious, could be another possible scenario. If a crack existed in the fuselage, passengers and crew would become incapacitated slowly. If most of the passengers were sleeping on this “red eye” flight the affects of oxygen deprivation would be less obvious. It is unsettling to think that this could happen on a large commercial airline. Would this also render the pilots unable to comprehend what was happening until it was too late? Not realizing they would have not used their oxygen masks in time. But, could it really confuse the pilots before the cabin altitude pressure warning sounded? Isn’t the purpose of an “alert system” to sound before it could get to this point?

     I have read reports that the search area is now narrowed to about the size of a county. So, there is nothing floating on the surface of the ocean, not a seat cushion, a single piece of the plane, a suitcase or any shred of anything?

   Although the mystery of this incident compels me to search for answers, and ponder theories, it’s about real tragedy and precious human lives. I hope you will join me in offering up a prayer for those souls that were on board, and for those loved ones who are waiting for answers.  It is a compelling mystery that I hope will be solved quickly.

Not responsible for lost sleep…

     I am hoping you won’t hold me responsible for your loss of “shut eye” by indulging in my book Circle of Sun. Is it a soft easy chair that you like to curl up in while reading? Is it unkind to hope you are spellbound by the seemingly sleepy village of White Oak and stay up a bit past your bedtime?  Just as you unpack your bags and settle in, you must be prepared to batten the hatches and find something grounded to hold on to! Because that is the goal of this fiction author… to spin that soft easy chair, with you in it, up into the turbulent skies that threaten White Oak and it’s inhabitants. Quinn Clarke must convince herself that she believes what common sense is telling her about the tragic accident on the cliff that nearly cost her life. But her own voice of reason raises doubts that are fueled by the first warning, coming from a complete stranger. 

     I hope the web of intrigue is not only strong enough to capture your attention, but provides the best entertainment possible. Because that is what enjoying fiction is all about. Many of us never outgrow the enjoyment from a good story. I don’t know if you have read Circle of Sun yet, but if you haven’t you might want to prepare for an imaginary journey that may require you to pack a few bags and stay awhile. 

Sheep counting can wait

   I am hoping you won’t hold me responsible for your loss of “shut eye” by indulging in my book Circle of Sun. Is it a soft easy chair that you like to curl up in while reading? Is it unkind to hope you are spellbound by the seemingly sleepy village of White Oak and stay up a bit past your bedtime?  Just as you unpack your bags and settle in, you must be prepared to batten the hatches and find something grounded to hold on to! Because that is the goal of this fiction author… to spin that soft easy chair, with you in it, up into the turbulent skies that threaten White Oak and it’s inhabitants. Quinn Clarke must convince herself that she believes what common sense is telling her about the tragic accident on the cliff that nearly cost her life. But her own voice of reason raises doubts that are fueled by the first warning, coming from a complete stranger. 

     I hope the web of intrigue is not only strong enough to capture your attention, but provides the best entertainment possible. Because that is what enjoying fiction is all about. Many of us never outgrow the enjoyment from a good story. I don’t know if you have read Circle of Sun yet, but if you haven’t you might want to prepare for an imaginary journey that may require you to pack a few bags and stay awhile.