Mira Prabhu's Blog, page 52
May 15, 2016
Monday Funnies…
Aunty Acid – allow her to brighten your mood this Monday with her wacky wit! Thanks Chris Graham!
Chris The Story Reading Ape's Blog
Source: Aunty Acid on Facebook
Stephen King on the hardest things to put into words: Quotes for Writers (and people who like quotes)
“The most important things lie too close to wherever your secret heart is buried, like landmarks to a treasure your enemies would love to steal away.” ~ Stephen King. Read on for the whole quote – and thank you Bridget Whelan…
The most important things are the hardest to say. They are the things you get ashamed of, because words diminish them — words shrink things that seemed limitless when they were in your head to no more than living size when they’re brought out. But it’s more than that, isn’t it? The most important things lie too close to wherever your secret heart is buried, like landmarks to a treasure your enemies would love to steal away. And you may make revelations that cost you dearly only to have people look at you in a funny way, not understanding what you’ve said at all, or why you thought it was so important that you almost cried while you were saying it. That’s the worst, I think. When the secret stays locked within not for want of a teller but for want of an understanding ear.
Stephen King
May 13, 2016
A Tail (ahem!) Tale of 5 Self-Published Books …
Read this if you’re a serious writer and want your work to spread through the globe…great post, Island Editions, expresses clearly how writers today have to wear a multitude of hats or else – its a tough market indeed, and we really have to be as good as we can be! Thanks Chris Graham for leading me to this….
Books: Publishing, Reading, Writing
Recently I read 5 self-published eBooks—all good books in their own way—but 4 of these suffered from “problems” that in my estimation could have been easily rectified. As it was, these problems were enough to diminish my satisfaction in reading what should have been very good books. Without mentioning the authors’ names or their book titles (except for the perfect book!), let me explain what I mean. (I did finish reading every book I list here, but with varying degrees of satisfaction.)
The first book is one I had known about for some time and had even beta-read material in advance to help the author organize and substantively edit in preparation for publication. I read a free Kindle edition. While I thoroughly enjoyed what was written—both the subject matter and the stories told (this was non-fiction about a particular time and place in the author’s life)—I realized that the author…
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May 11, 2016
Cyber Bullies vs. Cyber Lynch Mobs—Does Anyone Win?
Cyber Bullies vs Cyber Lynch Mobs – Kristen Lamb’s terrific post…I enjoy Kristen’s outpourings because I feel the real person behind the words…check this out for yourself, as usual the visuals are a treat…
Humanity has been gifted with this lovely new invention…the internet. For the first time in human history, we can connect and even befriend people all over the world. We can easily research, whether that is for a novel we’re planning or to figure out why we broke out in weird spots after eating pistachios. There is also a never-ending supply of entertainment and we never have to ever be bored again…
Yeah.
Okay, that alone could be a whole book (my POV is that us being bored more often might be good for us) but that isn’t what I’d like to talk about today.
Today? *takes deep breath and dives in*
On Monday, a cover model who’s posed for numerous covers had well, he…ok he lost his ever-loving MIND. As I was watching the scenario unfold, I kept wanting to type a message to him.
For the love of chocolate…SHUT…
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Just an Odd Job Girl Serialisation – Chapter Eighteen – Pesky May Flies!
Hilarious read!! Why is it that some humans choose to be so damned nasty? Thanks for this, Sally Cronin, and Chris Graham too, for introducing me to Sally who, like you, is a beacon of light to so many of us indie writers….
Smorgasbord - Variety is the spice of life
Last time we left Imogen coping with a drama at the hotel on the first weekend. Not an auspicious start but there were more incidents to come during the season.
Chapter Eighteen – Pesky May Flies
A number of guests stand out in my memories of the two seasons that I stayed at Killbilly. We had many Americans staying with us, generally for one or two nights, during their tours of the West Country. They loved the faded charm of the hotel and took copious pictures of the high ceilinged rooms and the delightful grounds. For the most part, they were charming themselves. Polite, and grateful for the old style service that we offered, even if it was delivered with an Australian accent. A very small minority of our American guests however were used to a slightly different level of accommodation. Air conditioning, ice in the rooms and twenty-four-hour food…
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May 9, 2016
Shakespeare died a nobody, then got famous by accident
Ephemeral amusements indeed!!!
On the day he (William Shakespeare) died, no one — not even Shakespeare himself — believed that his works would last, that he was a genius or that future generations would hail his writings.
He hadn’t even published his plays — during his lifetime they were considered ephemeral amusements, not serious literature. Half of them had never been published in any form and the rest had appeared only in unauthorized, pirated versions that corrupted his original language.
Go ahead and read Nicholas Rossis’s wonderful post…and thank you, Chris Graham, for leading me to it.
Christie’s Director of Books & Manuscripts Thomas Venning holding Shakespeare’s first folio
Image: http://www.telegraph.co.uk
With April 23 marking the 400th anniversary of the death of William Shakespeare, few will remember that his lasting fame almost did not happen. A brilliant post by the New York Times explains how that came about.
Shakespeare was born in 1564 and died in 1616 on his 52nd birthday. A celebrated writer and actor who had performed for Queen Elizabeth and King James, he wrote approximately 39 plays and composed five long poems and 154 sonnets. However, by the time of his death, he had retired and was considered past his prime.
By the 1620s, his plays were no longer being performed in theaters. On the day he died, no one — not even Shakespeare himself — believed that his works would last, that he was a genius or that future generations…
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May 8, 2016
Monday Funnies…
May 6, 2016
Read This Passage Before You Cheat On Your Spouse
Via 101 Posts – Graham Greene – a brilliant writer. This passage comes just after a scene where one of the main characters, Scobie, has committed his first act of infidelity…read especially the last line of this short passage…loaded with meaning. Small acts can have major consequences…
Graham Greene, y’all. The man is such a brilliant writer.
I want to share one more passage with you before I wrap this book up soon and move on to the next one. This passage comes just after a scene where one of the main characters, Scobie, has committed his first act of infidelity.
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May 5, 2016
Why Spiti is good for you
This is my friend Karan Bedi’s wonderful blog – explaining why Spiti is a terrific place to unwind. I traveled up to Spiti myself years ago, for the Kalachakra Initiation conducted by the Dalai Lama. The experience is indelibly imprinted on my consciousness – to the point that I made Spiti one of the major settings for my soon-to-be published novel, KRISHNA’S COUNSEL…Karan spent some time here in Tiru recently and was blown away by the fact that I had woven the magic and beauty of Spiti into my novel – why? Because he says the folks who live there are so simple they don’t have a clue how attractive they, and their region, are to the rest of the world. Bravo Karan, for daring to love what so many of our youth shy away from – the path less traveled…
Spiti reminds you to step back. Tells you to slow down. To hear your heart, feel the wind. So caught up are we with our daily routine that we are either dwelling about the past, anxious about the future or our agitated mind is trying to find excitement in new things.
In Spiti you won’t be stuck in traffic and there won’t be internet to waste time on Whats app. Like it or not you will be forced to slow down.
My travels in India and outside have convinced me that our core nature is to help others and be kind. In South America, South East Asia, East Africa and more recently in Iran, generosity was shown to me by complete strangers with nothing expected in return. In Spiti you’ll experience the same. Give yourself time, talk to strangers and you will see how people who have much less than…
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ANGEL IN MANHATTAN
It was a gorgeous fall morning and I woke up deliriously happy in my new apartment. The past couple of months had been crazy with all sorts of pressures, but finally the move from Carroll Gardens to Brooklyn Heights came; since this was post-divorce and I was on my own, the task of moving, then settling in, took up every bit of my remaining energy.
Now Saturday had dawned and all the grueling work was done, so I was free to enjoy my beautiful apartment in the St. George Tower, with its view of the Promenade, and beyond it, the regal Statue of Liberty, telling me I had made it against all odds in the land of the brave and the free.
In Manhattan, folks make plans way ahead of the weekend. I, however, had been too busy to do that; besides, my friends were in the city, and not in this beautiful suburb within walking distance of lower Manhattan. The sudden thought of my alone-ness struck me with the force of a blow to my gut!
I walked to the frig, pulled out a pack of organic tortillas and another of Sunshine burgers stuffed with cheese and veggies, and cooked up a delicious breakfast. I ate it as I sat staring out of my window. Fear struck again and, like a robot, I made myself a second breakfast to tamp down the fear. Unbelievably, I went through all those tortillas and burgers until I could barely walk! The demon of food had me firmly in her clutches—only stuffing myself, I was convinced, could stop this devilish fear from devastating me.
I stumbled back to my sunny bedroom and dived into bed. Drawing the comforter over my head, I lay still, hating myself for being such a coward. (You see, I had grown up in a traditional Indian family where women are not encouraged—sometimes even punished and ostracized—for being independent and different from the herd. I had come a long way, but I still hated the idea of wandering out into a strange neighborhood.)
I felt like a bleached whale with all that food in my belly. Against all odds, I had purchased my first apartment—but suddenly this felt like a Phyrric victory. Life stretched drearily ahead of me—and yet Spirit told me this was a time for solitude: so I could investigate who I truly was beneath the façade I projected—that of a confident woman who had made in the world’s most frenzied city.
I was weeping softly when I felt a strong presence in the room; warily, I pulled down the comforter and opened my eyes: a figure of light sat on my bed, resting against the wall, his legs passing right through mine! The face was blinding light, and yet I sensed that the energy of this being was masculine. The deva transmitted this wordless message: “Wake up, lazybones! You’ve plenty to do!!!” I got out of bed in a daze of joy, showered and walked out into a beautiful morning—for now I knew for sure that I was never alone.
My risk-taking nature continued to land me in desperate straits; perhaps the worst of these times was being confined to a guest house in Rishikesh, after being bitten by a Himalayan spider; my insides were writhing in pain due to a blood infection and I knew I was dying. I could not leave town due to one of the biggest festivals in the area—the narrow winding streets were clogged with devotees who had come down from the surrounding hills and villages, and the two bridges into town were impassable. I cried out to that angelic being to appear and give me hope that I would survive this terrible time, but I never saw him again. (Please check out: https://miraprabhu.wordpress.com/2013/08/13/the-spider-and-the-blue-throated-god-part-12/)
Today, here in south India, I know for sure that I am surrounded by beings of light. It is said that Shiva, who took the form of Arunachala to help millions destroy their egos, appears in three forms in Tiruvannamalai: 1) the sacred hill itself; 2) the self-luminous lingam at the main temple, and 3) as a yogi, named Arunagiri, who lives in invisible form on the hill.
Ramana Maharshi, the great sage of south India, once spoke of travelling upward on the hill and finding a giant banyan leaf. He tried to find the tree from which it had fallen, but stumbled into a hornet’s nest and was badly stung. He left that place in great pain, convinced he had entered the realm of Arunagiri Yogi, who had not wished to be intruded upon.
Bhagavan Ramana said the holy hill Arunachala is not what it appears to be; instead, it is a marvelous region where many siddhas (perfected beings) reside. One night, as I sat on my roof with a friend, we both saw a light hovering over the hill—it was too high to be held by a human hand, and it was no UFO; it remained glowing in the night for hours, and we both felt the spirit of Arunachala had appeared to spur us forward on this narrow path to liberation.
Greetings from Arunachala on this sunny morning! May you too experience the healing comfort of light beings, and then spread this wondrous light to everyone you meet!
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