Nancy LaRonda Johnson's Blog, page 15

The X-es Mark the Spots

Time again for the A to Z Challenge and Save-a-Word Saturday blog hops. Click on the links to learn more about them.
S-A-W word for today: Xanthic – (adj) yellowish in color.
S-A-W theme: Kangaroos
AtoZ letter: X


The X-es Mark the SpotsMaxine didn’t know why she’d dug two holes. It was hard enough to dig one at the depth and width she needed. By the end of the second one, she was exhausted, but she didn’t have time to rest before Axel came home expecting dinner.

While putting away the shovel, Maxine had to admit to herself why she made two holes. Alexis would want one too. Although her best friend adamantly discounted Maxine’s plan, she was sure that Alexis had enough time to reconsider. Maxine was so sure of this that she knew Alexis’ husband Xavier would be with her when she came.
A large, devious smile came across her face that was in direct contrast to how energetic she felt. But she only had to consider how happy Alexis would be with having a hole too, for her to be revived enough to get back to work. There was still a lot to be done.
Four hours later, the dining room table was set for four. Serving dishes of stewed potatoes, honey glazed chicken, and roasted Brussels sprouts and mushrooms filled in the table. Xanthic candle lights ignited the mood she wanted in place when they arrived.
As soon as Maxine dimmed the lights, she heard the keys unlocking the door. Axel was home. Multiple voices and laughter told her that Alexis and Xavier had arrived as well. Maxine’s heart drummed, and her hands began to shake with anticipation.
Dinner went without a hitch, and the men were stuffed enough to not put up argument when Maxine demanded their attention. “It’s time for your surprise.” She gave the hand-drawn maps to Axel and Xavier, and continued, “The exes mark the spots. Go look for them now.” They began to grumble, until in a stern voice Maxine said, “It’s easy and fun. And afterward, apple pie alamode will be waiting for you along with a nice bourbon.”
The men quickly gathered their maps and seemed to hop faster than kangaroosto go out to the backyard. Alexis gave Maxine a knowing smile. It didn’t take long for them to hear the first gasps and yelps.
Moments later, the two women gathered their desserts and drinks and made their way outside. Maxine walked over to where she saw Axel laid out perfectly still, and Alexis went around a sturdy gate that separated the spots with their husbands.
Maxine set the dessert and drink on a small table beside the hole she had dug. With a squeal, she jumped into the hole, and landed on a luxury mattress made specifically for the depth and width of the hole, and which was delivered and setup an hour before dinner.
Axel rolled over and wrapped himself around Maxine, covering them both up with the down comforter. “You are amazing. This is an unbelievable Father’s Day gift.”
“Luckily Alexis’ oldest daughter is home to babysit,” Maxine said, then added, “So you like it?”
Axel kissed her deeply as an answer, and said, “Now I’m ready for pie alamode and bourbon.”

A-Z: Wistfully Wishing & Celebrate the Small Things

This time, I want to do things backward. I usually start with Arlee Bird's A to Z Challenge, or do it together with another blog hop. Today, I want to start with VikLit's Celebrate the Small Things.

These things I'm celebrating from this past week:

1. Don't laugh, but I'm celebrating my horrible interview for supervisor at my job. It was early in the morning, I rambled, and it was just... sad. I'm celebrating this because it was an experience. I hadn't had an interview in nearly 11 years. Also, I don't think I could handle being a supervisor right now as it seems to take very little to get me feeling overwhelmed lately.

2. You can laugh at this one: I'm celebrating my hope to be lazy this weekend. Tears wish to fall from my eyes with this hope. Would I be bored? Darned tootin'! But I'd be happily bored.

3. My book signing was a lot of fun. Thanks all you well wishers. Saw some people I hadn't spoken to in a while, and it was nice to see people who already had a signed book come support me. Here are some pics:





The woman way in the back is an old friend I hadn't seen or spoken with in about 5 years. I forgot to get a good picture of her! Another friend didn't like getting pictures, and another one felt she wasn't dressed right. I tell you about folks! :)







Now to express why I'm Wistfully Wishing:

Maybe I'm just going through one of those moods. Or maybe I'm at the brink of another pivot in life. But I'm longing to go that next step. I've gotten my ninth review on Amazon, have completed a first book signing, am trying to connect with another Christian bookstore in Oakland, and my book is on a few bookstore shelves. But, it all seems to be going so slow.
I know, I've posted about it and preached to friends about wanting things to go faster than they should and the need to be patient and not rush. I'm going to say it anyway!

I'm Wistfully Wishing to get a publicist. I went to a publicists/marketing meeting with the Northern California Book Publicity & Marketing Association (soon to get a user friendly name), where they spoke about how to get onto the lecture circuit. It was an informative and somewhat encouraging get together. Well, I was speaking with the president of this association,
Isabella and I spoke for a bit and exchanged info. And here comes the wistful part. Of course it costs, and it's quite expensive, even though she's less expensive than many publicists.

Then that fear kicks in (oh how I hate the devil with his limitless supply of fears to dole out!) with, "I shouldn't even think about spending this kind of money," "You should be able to do it all by yourself," "It's not going to help anyway. If it was meant for your dreams of big sells and full-time writer to come true, it would've happened by now." Then there's the kicker, "If you'd get people to pay what they owe you, you'd be able to pay for 4 to 6 months of publicity easy."

Only, my Christian heart prevents me from making demands on money I freely lent. As it says in the Bible, if you lend money, do so with no expectation of repayment. (I must inform you who do not know the Word, that the Bible also says that the borrower is slave to the lender, and that as a Christian you must repay debt.) I feel I can request one friend to make some payment, but the rest are family and I freely lent with little or no expectation of repayment.

Thanks for listening to my rant, whine and wistful wishing. I will move toward this endeavor and keep my ears and prayers open to God to see if that is the direction I should go in. As with the job promotion, if it is meant to happen, it will. If not, it won't, and hopefully with no financial loss.

Various Meanderings of a Madman

From yesterday’s U post, it has been decided that the lowly writer is not one who can do it all by herself. Yeah, I know, it was said with so much more style, finesse and loyalty. Hey, it’s nearly two in the morning, and this is what you get when not enough sleep diminishes the brain cells. But enough about me!

Today, I’m here to discuss and introduce to this blogging community Logan A. Lance of Various Meanderings of a Madman. Okay, I admit, the title grabbed me. This is what he says about it:
"The title came to me since I have been called a mad man more than once and I can meander all around a subject without getting to it." 
I came across his blog after he posted a review of my book, Anticipation of the Penitent , and also a review of another book I loved, Stephen King's Under the Dome . After being graciously introduced to many of you folks by whom I consider to be my blogging mentor, Julie Luek of A Thought Grows, I felt I wanted to do the same for Logan.
And he is ripe for Alex J. Cavanaugh's monthly blog hop, Insecure Writer’s Support Group. You see, he wrote his first story at age eight, began blogging in 2009 to hone his craft, post excerpts of his WIP, post book and movie reviews, and to discuss his weight loss accomplishments and setbacks. He has two complete manuscripts that he still has yet to send queries out for. It seems pretty clear to me that he has those fears, insecurities and self-doubts that I spoke of yesterday. (I admittedly cannot speak to his loneliness quotient :)) Let’s hope Logan dives into the depths of this community!
To get a greater sense of this Varied and meandering madman, check out THIS blog post that paints the best portrait of him. 
I invite you to take a stroll over to Various Meanderings of a Madman, say howdo, and invite him into this meaningful and Very supportive blogging world.

Please check out this other A to Z Challenge blog:
Jamaican Kid Lit

A Unilateral Undertaking of Undesirable and Unattainable Phenomena

The title says it all, doesn’t it? It is intriguing and perplexing. Makes you want to join right in even though you have no idea what you’re signing up for. It’s like going on a rollercoaster for the first time and wondering whether your outtake on life will change by the end of the ride.   pic from tuberfilter.com
Every time we take that jump into a new endeavor, a new dream, a new hope… we, that is you and I on an individual basis, undertake (or travail) reaching that goal. 

But why undesirable? you ask. I’ll ask you this, would you rather have the cow brought to your yard pic from cookistry.com
or have a waiter bring you a delicious, juicy burger on a silver platter? Or for you vegetarian or non-red meat eater sorts who may be disgusted by that question, would you rather be provided with antiseptics, scalpel and sutures on your dining room table,    

or would you rather be knocked out by an anesthesiologist in a hospital and worked on by a highly capable surgeon for your necessary procedure? Well, that’s the whatstodo about undesirable. Think about it. You'll get what I'm saying.


Now about those phenomena. Not singular, because we in this life have sooo many dreams - those hoped for remarkable events we want to make happen.
These phenomena seem so remarkable that we wonder whether we will ever attain them. We often ask ourselves, “Will I ever finish writing this book?” “Will anyone even read it?” “When will I ever get a darned review!” and also, “Why do I have to work instead of write and travel everyday?” “When will I ever have the courage get over my insecurities and believe I can do it?” whatever it is.
There you have it: We all embark on unilateral undertakings of undesirable and unattainable phenomena. The wonderful thing is that the undertaking only succeeds with the help of others, and it is often not so horrible or undesirable in hindsight of the accomplished goal. Who could publish a book without others willing to give input and make edits? Who would want their book to suddenly appear in front of them complete without the effort and suffering used to create it?
When you think about it, being a writer is not so lonely a career path as it would seem, because there are many out there who are unilaterally undertaking their own phenomena. And guess what? They are looking for you to join the ride. In fact, you are definitely a requirement.
So let’s get going. No fear, no loneliness, no self-doubt:

Taxi!

This is a story that will be in my upcoming book of flash fiction and poetry. As with all my writing, I am open to any criticisms and encouragement. I hadn't gotten much input on this one yet, so be real and don't worry, I've got thick skin!



Taxi!


Marcus dreaded the hope he held onto for so long. Marietta was four when she was taken. Now, he doubted that he would recognize his own daughter. An old friend of Charlise finally admitted that Charlise sent her a postcard a year ago. Marcus immediately went looking, driving nonstop to find Marietta from the information he gathered from the postcard. He barely considered that he had stolen his employer’s car to do so. To Marcus, it was much worse that his wife stole his daughter after losing custody of her, as if it wasn’t her idea to live with a convicted child molester.Marcus arrived in this Godforsaken town three hours ago. He could not get himself to end his futile search and find a place to park the stolen taxi cab for the night. His itchy, red and heavy eyes threatened to stay shut every time he blinked. Finally he noticed an open Mexican restaurant. He would park and pray that Charlise worked there. Whenever she did work, it was always as a waitress. Marcus sent his petition to God to find them.Before turning into the parking lot, he heard a meek yet shrill voice cry out, “Taxi!”Marcus whipped his head around and saw a girl of about thirteen in front of a closed library, hailing him.His heart skipped a beat, but Marietta was only eleven, and this girl had short natural hair. Charlise would die before letting Marietta go with natural hair. Marcus had to see what this young girl needed, and hurriedly made a U-turn. She opened the rear door, jumped in, and said, “See that Mexican restaurant across the street? In about five minutes, a man is going to come out. I want you to follow him.”Turning around to look at the girl, Marcus saw the layers of make-up and knew why he thought she looked older. His shock prevented tears from falling or his mouth from working. His vision blurred, but finally he was able to shout, “Marietta!” She looked the same after all, only her eleven year old body was camouflaged with makeup and clothing too old for her.Marietta stared at him, fear spreading across her face. Then recognition formed along with tears in her eyes. “Daddy?” She said it so softly, then louder, “Daddy!”They hugged and kissed each other, crying and talking at the same time.“They told me you didn’t want me anymore.”“I’ve been looking for you forever.”“I knew they were lying.”“Are you okay?”“They told me that you died so I wouldn’t ask to go home anymore.”“I was never going to stop looking for you.”After a few moments of silence, Marietta said, “Daddy, that guy who’s coming out the restaurant said he’s taking me to a secret place tomorrow where he would get paid taking pictures of me. I wanted to follow him and see where that secret place is so I could stay away.”Horrified, Marcus shouted, “Buckle up!”They drove away, and on the way home, shared every difficulty they had since the last time they saw each other. Two days later, after arriving home, Marcus went to the District Attorney’s Office to file a report against his Charlise.  

Please visit these other A to Z Challenge blogs:
The Non-Review
Emily Unraveled
The Random Thoughts of Chippy
Delusionary Cinderella

Saving Face or Saving Grace

When I was little, in elementary school, my best friend and I opened a bag of candy in a grocery store and began eating right in the middle of the aisle. Soon, a worker came to us and asked where the parent was. A metallic taste of embarrassment coated my tongue and prevented me from speaking. We went to the store with my friend’s father, who was around somewhere.
Somehow, we were led to her father, and he was told how we were caught shoplifting. I remember wondering what kind of trouble she had gotten me in. Unfortunately, given circumstances of my youth and being the youngest of six kids, I never felt I had the ability to disagree with someone else’s ideas, and eating the candy had been my friend’s idea.
An intuitive child, I got the feeling that her father understood the roles between us and had even gotten a reserved chuckle out of the whole situation. The store worker explained to my friend and me about the viewer windows and cameras used to look out for shoplifters. He said that he would let us go this time, and we left to go back to my friend’s home, she with an indignant anger that lasted through the night, and me with a timid and ashamed air of, Let’s see what’ll happen.
What did happen was a shift in our relationship. I felt a saving grace of protection from getting into trouble because I was the guest who had never considered stealing before. My friend’s father was gracious to the both of us, however, and I don’t remember that she was punished at all after receiving another lecture when we returned to their house. Nonetheless, she held on to her angry façade in a character-changing decision to save face by not admitting any wrongdoing. 
We slowly began to drift apart after that incident. She had a different group of friends that I didn’t feel secure enough to join, and I noticed more and more how different we were becoming from each other. Although friends and in the same class since preschool, by the fourth grade, we rarely spoke to one another.
Someday I would like to try and find her. I’d heard that she entered a tough spot after high school, while my rebellious years began at the beginning of high school. By the eleventh grade, I was back on track. It would be good to know how she got back on track, whether saving face is still important to her, or whether she has learned about the wonderful gift of saving grace, something that we all need from time to time.  

Please check out these other A to Z Challenge blogs:Dear Krissy
Live the Moment
Loca for Language
T and A Travel Almanac

The Heirloom Raploch

Here’s another two-fer: The A to Z Challenge plus the Save-a-Word Saturday blog hops. Click on the links to learn more about them.
S-A-W word for today: Raploch – (noun) coarse, woolen cloth, made from the worst kind of wool, homespun and not dyed.
S-A-W theme: Weddings
AtoZ letter: R
The Heirloom Raploch
Stranger things have happened, so Starla didn’t say anything when Chandler gave her the raploch. It was old, more matted grey than luscious black, smelled of mothballs and was tattered in many places. She held it in one hand and stared at it, dreading the thought of putting such an old scarf against her skin.
“You can have it,” Chandler said, looking at Starla with his dark brown eyes that never quite landed on hers. “It was my grandmother’s.”
Tears moistened his eyes. Seeing this, Starla’s heart began to swell and sway inside of her in tune with the melody that resounded in its chambers. Forgetting about the moldy smell, the ratty look and the rough feel of its coarse material, she took it in both hands and held it just under her chin. “Chandler, I’ll keep this raploch forever.”
His deep brown face shaded darker with embarrassment, a protective reflex so as not to cry. Starla looked away out of respect. He gingerly lifted the raploch from Starla’s hands and wrapped it around her shoulders. “It was her mother’s, and I think her mother’s before that. I have no sisters… so it’s been mine since I was ten.”
Starla never met Chandler’s grandmother, since she died one week ago, the week Chandler came to stay with an elderly cousin, the week when Starla learned how his grandmother had been the most important person in his life.
And now Chandler gave Starla the raploch, his heirloom. There was no doubt that she would sleep with it every night until Chandler was officially hers. Imagining their wedding was easier now that she had a part of him with her.

Quarter To + Celebrating Time

Quarter To
It was a quarter to and I wasn’t going to make it. I could only hope the consequences of my inaction would not be as devastating as Martin had said they would be. He was talking about something totally different. He had to, because he could not have known what this day would bring being that he died two years ago. But I couldn’t deny how eerily fitting his warning was for this day:
Perry, the next time this happens, pay attention. I was here to get you today, but I’m telling you, the next time it’ll be all on you. You have to pay attention to the time. If you’re late when this happens again, all the work we’ve done will have been for nothing.
Of course I thought Martin was being dramatic, like he could be when he had to wait on people. Only, again I had forgotten to set the alarm when I knew I should have, given what time I'd gotten in. Martin had told me to be careful. He had been so clear. I was so stupid to not listen to him. Luckily, he would never know the turmoil I’ll cause.
Oh, I had to stop talking like that, like it was already too late. It didn’t have to be. It was a quarter to and I still had time.
I jumped out of bed and rushed to use the restroom, cursing myself for needing to waste that amount of time. The attire from last night was in the bathroom, although I didn’t remember taking it off. I quickly threw it on after rinsing my hands with the No Touch, and ran to the front room for my shoes. My equipment was by the door where it should have been. At least I had everything ready.
Only seven minutes had past since waking up by the time I left my room into the storming darkness. It wasn’t nighttime. Despite the darkness, it was nearly four in the afternoon, and I had less than nine minutes to get ready before I ruined everything.
I silently entered through the rear and knew it wasn’t too late. Feeling my way in the darkness, the winds just began to die down by the time I reached the other end. I walked through the opening and my heart pounded against my chest, feeling near to explode. The lights came on and shined directly on me, reflecting the illuminants of my wardrobe. 
I called out in a commanding voice, “Come all ye shepherds, ye children of earth, Come ye, bring greetings to yon heavenly birth.” The applause was deafening as I continued with my lines.
~          ~          ~


It’s time for VikLit’s Celebrate the Small Things, an every Friday blog hop. This week I’m celebrating:Yay! My author interview aired on the local cable TV show on Tuesday and last Saturday. It wasn’t the best, and the editing was pretty bad, but it aired and it was great.My book signing is tomorrow! Am I prepared? Am I nervous? No and Yes. JThis has been a good week in regard to the A to Z Challenge. Not as stressful as last week. I guess getting sick over the weekend forced me to have some down time and revitalized me.The flash fiction piece above. What do you think about it? Was it a surprise to you?It’s Friday!!!!!!!!!!:)!!!!!!!!!
Check out this other A to Z Challenge blog:
Daily Journey

Person, Place or Prescription?

Like many people, everyday I wake up and before getting out of bed, I consider what I need to do versus what I’d like to do.
When I’m feeling worthy about all the blessings God has given me, I look forward to doing my day’s work. I think of what I can do for a particular PERSON, so that God would be honored by how I conduct myself in the responsibilities he’s given me. Not so easy a mentality to hold, but it’s there.
When I’m thinking of all my goals and dreams, I consider the PLACE I want to go rather than where I need to go. No longer having the financial need to work would open up the fields so that I could arrive at the place where all my hopes for writing fulltime, marketing freely, and blogging more is.
When I’m feeling overly tired and stressed, I think of how caffeine could get me out of bed to get to work, or how something stronger, something prescribed (maybe), could make me feel like I’m as free as can be to do all I want and all I need. That PRESCRIPTION would keep the wantfor what I don’t have out in the open waters, unable to dock at the banks of my consciousness.
Then reality kicks in, and I know that despite all my faults and lacking, and because of all my dreams and goals, and since I don’t rely on prescription-based freedoms (or bondage), Life Is Good….
And I get out of bed, ready to take on my day with all the people I’ll have to work with, all the places I’m obliged to go to, and knowing this is what paves the way to fulfilling my dreams and goals.
All this without the need for prescriptions, since God has set my footsteps and I do all I can to walk in his wake and go to the people and places he has for me to meet and go. 


      [My day of fishing in Cabo]
Please visit this other A to Z Challenge blog:
Annals from a Citrus Grove in the Suburbs

Open to Debate

*Things that are always open to debate:
                Politics                                                                                               Religion         










Age to potty train a child                                                          Watching too much TV









            Abortion laws                                                                     Same sex marriages









*It’s always alright to have different views and to discuss them in debate.


**Things that are never open to debate:
My politics                                                                                            My Religion









When I can go to the bathroom                                                    How much TV I watch









Whether I can have an abortion                                                     Who I will marry













**It's never alright to force beliefs on me, or to get irate when I have my own.


Please visit these other A to Z Challenge blogs:
Walnuts and Pears
Sopphey Says
What Shall We Blog About Today?
Living 2013
Margaret's Musings
Into The Ravenous Maw