Jessica Greyson's Blog, page 9

The Author’s Alphabet B

Books have changed your life, now you have written or are writing your own, so what are some important things as a writer for you to have?

B Beta-Readers
Beta-Readers are one of the best things that ever happened to me. I struggled to complete novels and eventually they would just die because my personal inspiration would begin to doubt itself and my determination would peter out into drivel and despair, and I'd give up, only to begin again with a new idea that would also die a slow and incomplete death.
Beta-readers changed that for me. With the encouragement and insight from my first beta-reader, I finished my first novel and many more since, because of my beta-readers...who have told me when I am doing a good job, I am out of line, or something just doesn't jam. They make me not only a better writer but a better person.

Get yourself some good beta-readers, and be a better writer.

His is RISEN!

A joyful Easter to all!

Music Muse

Music is one of the beautiful things in life. So often it can help fuel, inspire, or even create a story.

One of my favorite pastimes is just listening to music, searching for storyful lyrics and beautiful voices. So I am going to try and do weekly posts, sharing some of my old, new, random, favorite music pieces that inspire me as a writer. I hope you'll find some entertainment for your own muse.

Note, not all of these songs will be perfect, and though I love classical, when I am searching for story music....I go into all kinds of music because there are all kinds of characters and stories....so sit back and enjoy some ear-spiration.

Grace is a common theme for my life...and the lives of my characters. As I am working on the second and third book of my Grace Trilogy, I keep being drawn back to this song.

The Author's Alphabet

 A
AuthorYou are an author. Whether it is just a short story, a book report, a research paper, the first draft of your first novel, or if you are a published author making15.00 or 15,000 a month. You are an author. That title is yours! Don't be afraid to own it and wear it proudly.

Like hundreds of other authors, you aren't on amazon's or the New York Best Sellers list, but you are making a difference, and no one else can tell your stories the way you tell them. So go write! Share your stories with the world. Be the Author you were born to be!

Working Out

I have hated working out...since....my first workout. The peppy perfect workout girls who never got tired and said annoying things made me never want to work out. Also, I never felt very different after workouts, just tired...so I gave up.

[image error] I decided to live my life the way I wanted...which resulted in a "happy" me. I had never been comfortable with my image, and I became even more so, but I didn't know how to stop it, the things I had tried before still didn't appeal to me, and it seemed like I was lost in a vicious cycle that was rapidly getting out of control.

Hitting a breaking point, I realized that things needed to stop. I didn't want jiggling hips, fat legs, sausage fingers with pattie hands, a jelly bean shaped belly that jiggled like jello, and I wanted to stop wearing the size 3x's and hiding in hoodies just to feel comfortable with who I was.

I hadn't seen myself in a full-length mirror except in stores that were just something I tried to ignore, however moving into my room in Hualien I was happy to see a full-length mirror in my room...until I saw myself in it...this wasn't a store mirror that I could walk away from this was one that I saw every day and I realized I didn't want to remain the woman I was...so how to change?

[image error] I puzzled over it, I knew working out would be an essential change, but how much and what workouts should I do?

Browsing the internet, watched youtube videos, chatted with friends and formulated a plan.
Starting out with a simple workout on a sheet of paper that my friend sent me. 15 moves for 1 minute each. A 15-minute workout sounded perfect...and then I found it was grueling, but worth it, I struggled to complete it, and yet every day I noticed that I improved a little bit, I could hold it a bit longer, I could fit more into that tiny little minute. Things felt positive, and I saw my body making little changes.

From there I realized I needed even more of a challenge....so I started doing youtube workouts...I tried several different ones until I found an instructor that I love and adore and I feel is giving me the results I want without being an unrealistic Barbie doll.


[image error] I am still far from what I could be, but for the first time in my life I am seeing results and keeping them. I am still allowing myself junk food, chocolate binges, and chips....but I also realize at what cost and am willing to work them off. It has taken a while to learn what losing weight and being happy means to me....

I haven't stepped on a scale in a long time, I know it would be good, however, it's a number I am still not ready to face and I've gotten so discouraged from it before, steering completely clear of the three little numbers on a digital screen that I have allowed to define and label me. But I am keeping myself accountable with my mirror and friends who are encouraging even on the days I want to give up or not workout. They push me, and I am learning to push myself, now some days don't feel complete unless I work out...and I am working out more than I ever have before. It's not a chore, but I do it on my own terms and have my own reward system that pushes me forward.
If I want to watch a movie or drama I have to work out first....it's pretty compelling.

The rewards of being able to go shopping in Taiwanese stores and pull items off the shelf....of course, they are all large and oversized, etc. because an L here is like an M in the states...but I am doing stuff that I wasn't able to do a few months ago, people treat me differently, I knew being fat was hard...but I didn't know how hard it was until I started to lose the weight and the world really does treat you differently.

Did you know?

A few months ago I published a set of short stories.

These are older works of mine, so they aren't the best, but I certainly enjoyed writing them, and I hope you'll enjoy reading them! You can buy the ebook here! I am hoping to have the paperback published in the next week or so at a very reasonable rate.

Dear Walls,

Rough, not smooth, not even the ages have worn you down.
I walk passed you.
I wonder about your stories.
I wonder what you have seen, heard.
The ravages of war.
The secrets of soldiers.
Fears?
Hopes?
Dreams?
Plans?
Betrayal?
Love?
Secrets?
I can feel the history etched into your depths.
I wish I could speak to you.
I wish I knew the language of stone.
So you could tell me what you have seen and heard
The guardian wall that has stood around this city.
You have harbored kings and queens, soldiers and scholars, people...friends and foes.
You stood when so many other buildings fell beneath the enemies cruel hands.
History is your walls, it is in the core of your stone.
I walk by...
My fingers linger on the feeling of the wall,
The precise squares, the grout, the past.
I feel ignorant and small, like a colorful butterfly pausing on a flower in a spring breeze...
Passing, passing...only lingering for this moment.
Only touching a tiny part of something so much larger...only tasting a drop of what you have to offer.
History, beauty, riches, locked away in stony silence.
I see the brilliance of your designer.
I feel the safety he created within your walls.
You are making me hungry, hungry for knowledge for words I do not know...for the stories you will not tell.
Oh, if I could only speak to stone.
If walls could talk...
I lean against you, wishing I could hear your stony core beat with life.
You are silent.
Silent.
Holding all the secrets of the past.
Holding tightly what it has left you.
History and stories, and people long gone.
You are the keeper of secrets.
You are silent stone.

Hwaseong Fortress Korea
(found on google, not my image, I own nothing)

Sweetly Single?

Single.One.Only.Alone...Lonely?Lucky?
found on google not my  image I own nothing
There are many ways to view being single.
For years I'll admit I've been blissfully happy.
I've smile and accepted the words.
"You are so lucky!"
"Oh! What I wouldn't be to be in your shoes."
"I had it so easy when I was single."
"Man, what I wouldn't give to be sinlge again."
"You've never been in a relationship, oh you are so lucky!"
found on google, not my image, I own nothing

However...as the years have progressed and romance has eluded my life...
I find it...
Life is still satisfying, life is still good. I am still grateful to be single...but there are days where there is a gap, a hole, it feels as if part of my life is missing something...or rather someone.

The words: "You are so lucky to be single!" etc. Seem to have a bit of a bite to them.
found on google, not my image, I own nothingI still smile, and I look into the eyes of sleepless mothers with bags under their eyes, worried and wondering how they are doing as a mother...and I realize this is a gift that I have been given and I need to be grateful, even as I am slightly jealous of their little ones calling them "Mama," knowing that the demands of being a mother is a never ending job...but still my heart aches just a little.

They say, "Being a teacher, it must make you not want kids..."
And the truth is it only makes me want them more.
I get only a breif moment with these children, to love, to cherish...to impact...to smile, to laugh, to care, to cry...and then it's goodbye.
It makes me realize no matter how exaused and how little sleep I get I still want the oppertunity to put food on the table, to tousle little heads, to sing to sleep children of every age and size, to talk with them...even if it is the never ending chatter....it is a privledge that I have not been granted.

There are days when I wake up, and I realize that I am painfully single...singleness that I am not sure if it will ever end,...or how many more days I must learn to cherish this gift and the oppertunities that it gives me.

Thank you Singleness.

Under the Black Umbrella

I am rather fond of umbrellas.

Especially yellow umbrellas, for they make me smile.

They are a spot of sunshine in a world of grey.

I own a smallish soft yellow umbrella, I chose it for that EXACT reason.

To remind me when it is grey...there will always be sunshine again.

However, today...walking home from the city.

It started to rain.

I thought if I hurried a bit more.

I could make it home...before the downpour began.

I passed two convenience stores, I paused wondering if I should stop and purchase an umbrella...but I've already purchased two...I really didn't need to buy another, and stupidly I hadn't brought either of them.

I sped homeward, I zipped up my navy blue fleece coat.

I nodded at the guard standing at the military gate.

Taxis were nearby...

For a mere 100 NT. I could be home in four minutes or less.

I waved, they passed.

I sped on...

And then it happened.

The deluge.

Slipping under the shelter of the tree by the road, I watched as the road turned into a shallow river.

Cars passed, thankfully slowing down so they didn't drench me in wave car thrown rain.

Another taxi was coming towards me. Waving vigorously for it to stop....it passed by speeding up the road.

No one, wanted to pick up a damp foreigner...

I waited, not wanting to get drenched, but also not wanting to spend the rest of my day under a star-fruit tree waiting for the rain to stop.

Weighing my options I couldn't decide if I should go forward or backwards...

Another taxi passed, ignoring my waving arms.

I stood there watching the rain fall, sipping my coffee, trying to decide, and praying for wisdom on what to do next.

Then it happened.

A white car stopped on the other side of the road, flashers blinking, they parked next to the house practically on top of the road. I couldn't see inside the dark windows.

I wondered three things, "Do they live there? Are they going to offer me a ride? Are they lost?"

Trying not to get my hopes up, I looked away, listening for the possibility of a car window rolling down. Of words in Chinese or English being spoken... "Need a ride?" or "Xiao Jei li, li, li!"

Seconds passed into a minute...

Glancing up the hill I watched for another taxi, wondering if the next one would be in just a big a hurry as the last few.

A car door opened.

A petite woman tiptoed quickly across the road, a black, closed umbrella in her hand.

"For you," she said putting it into my hand, and then tip-toed quickly back across the road before I barely had a moment to say thank you. The car door closed, I opened up the umbrella, bowing my gratefulness.

The car pulled away and disappeared up the hill.

I watched it go, glancing up at my new big black umbrella, and felt strangely like Jo March...under The Professor's big black worn umbrella. The warmth, the kindness, the thoughtfulness, the worn and used pattern on the umbrella told of it's use in rain and sunshine, of years of care...given to a complete stranger standing under a star-fruit tree in the middle of a deluge.

Always A Silver Lining

There will always be cruelty in the world.

It will sometimes strike by hands, and in places we least expect it.

Yesterday, I found it on a Facebook post written in Chinese by a coworker.
She had written something nasty about me.
Thinking I'd never see it.
Why?
I hadn't felt up to saying yes to an invitation to eat out.
I hadn't promised that I would come, I had asked for information, so I could make the best choice and said thank you, and mentioned that I was grateful for her reaching out to me, but I wasn't feeling up to it.

I had a list of reasons that could have filled up a page, but since they were mostly personal and I didn't want to worry or bother her, I simply said I was busy.

My attempt to not offend her offended her.

As I read what she said about me...

I found myself shaking.

I felt stabbed.

Gutted.

I had been trying to win her sharp personality into friendliness...but the words shattered me.

I left the office, trying to hold back the tears, shaking.

The weeks leading up to this I've been balancing on a cultural tightrope as I prepare for my family to visit me, and the group that I am working for has very strict rules about things. So trying to please every group and focus on work and doing what I came here to do has been difficult. I've been on the edge of shattering several times as I play ambassador, advocate, and try to understand and communicate with both cultures, family, and a growing ladder of bosses to make sure things sail smoothly.

As I was trying to compose myself outside, I noticed the wife of a coworker at the gate and went to let her in.
She smiled and offered me the protection of her umbrella in the light sprinkle of rain.
I was like "I am okay...."
But she insisted so kindly, pulling me under the umbrella.
I was moved by her sweetness and kindness, in a moment of bleeding vulnerability, someone made sure they were kind, even though I would have been perfectly fine in the sprinkle.

As much as I didn't want to cry, I ended up crying in my room, and my dorm mate who I've been having on and off relationships with, came and checked on me. She offered me comfort, and the next morning bought me breakfast, knowing that I hadn't gotten out of bed until the last moment.

It is the kidness of others in a cruel world that sometimes make it change for the better and help you find the goodness in the world even when it's the bleakest.