Patrice Sikora's Blog, page 2
February 12, 2017
Need to Write
Everyone can create. It is the sharing that takes time and effort.
People I've talked to say they can't write, they have no original ideas and, besides, they don't have the time. I agree it takes time and I often feel guilty that instead of writing I should be cleaning the house or prepping for work or spending more time with family and friends. But then I get involved in my characters and that guilt fades away.
Original ideas are nice, but maybe your more-common plot line has a refreshing angle. Move it around in your head while you walk the neighborhood or ride the bus or train to work or school. Don't force it in any one direction, let it take you where it wants to go.
And you can write. Rules of grammar and punctuation shouldn't scare you off. That's what editors are for and, who knows, your individual style may grow from those incorrect riffs on a thought or action.
Now, it is time for me to do as I have just advised and write. Here is what I am working on:
“Rider, is it your desire to leave the King’s service and Cross the River?”
“It is.”
“And do you have the payment needed?”
Claire handed her a heavy gold coin.
“This should do it .”
Gwen found herself smiling at the Rider’s upbeat attitude.
“Then, my friend, let us help you begin your final trip.”
She waved her arm and open the Window to the Boathouse. The pair Stepped through and Gwen paused to give them both a moment before she moved to the door.
“This way, Rider. Your boat awaits.”
She opened the door and led Claire onto the porch where the Rider paused and gasped as she saw the flowers lining the path to the dock.
“It is impressive, isn’t it,” said Gwen with a chuckle. “I don’t get tired of seeing it. And they all mean something. The white and yellow chrysanthemums mean loyalty and honesty, and sorrow and love. The marigolds are creativity and remembering the dead. The roses love, longing and because these are so deeply red, they also mean farewell. The purple sweet pea is also a departure flower but it is more like goodby and thanks for a good time. And the different zinnia colors means slightly different things but they echo the others: affection, thinking of an absent friend, remembrance.”
“It’s beautiful,” breathed Claire.
Gwen watched as her friend lifted her eyes from the brilliant flowers to the River.
“Oh ---.”
“Stop,” said the Courier sharply taking the Rider’s arm. “Don’t tell me what you see.”
Claire continued to stare toward the water as she lifted a hand and put in on top of Gwen’s.
“I won’t, but I believe there will be a wonderful welcome for you when we meet again in time.”
The phrase used by Nathao’s people to remind themselves that they would be together again, almost brought Gwen to tears again, but Nan increased the flow of the new power moving through her and she calmed her emotions to the point she could smile and acknowledge that this was the best step for her friend.
The stones on the path crunched as they walked to the pier and the simple wooden boat. Gwen grasped the dull gray gavel that hung from a fraying rope attached to an aging tree stump and banged it once on the wood. The man sitting in the boat facing the water, turned and when he saw them, slowly climbed onto the pier.
“Dob, you get your payment this time. I am sorry Barnabas bypassed you rather like Rakeem did, but I am sure you know the details. Now, this Rider has completed her time with King Nathao and he offers this to you to see her safely across.”
Dob said nothing as he accepted the heavy coin and Gwen wasn’t sure if her apology registered. He dropped the payment into a pocket and stood back to help Claire in the boat.
The Rider turned to Gwen and embraced her.
“I thank you for everything you have been to me and for me, and I will miss you,” she whispered.
Gwen hugged her back but, this time, felt no need for tears.
“Give my love to my grandfather and Rakeem and you will probably see me once in a while traveling to Luke’s. Just remember I won’t see you so don’t do anything to scare me,” she said as she pulled back and grinned. “And yes, we will meet again in time.”
Claire wiped away a tear. “In time, Courier. We will meet again in time.”
People I've talked to say they can't write, they have no original ideas and, besides, they don't have the time. I agree it takes time and I often feel guilty that instead of writing I should be cleaning the house or prepping for work or spending more time with family and friends. But then I get involved in my characters and that guilt fades away.
Original ideas are nice, but maybe your more-common plot line has a refreshing angle. Move it around in your head while you walk the neighborhood or ride the bus or train to work or school. Don't force it in any one direction, let it take you where it wants to go.
And you can write. Rules of grammar and punctuation shouldn't scare you off. That's what editors are for and, who knows, your individual style may grow from those incorrect riffs on a thought or action.
Now, it is time for me to do as I have just advised and write. Here is what I am working on:
“Rider, is it your desire to leave the King’s service and Cross the River?”
“It is.”
“And do you have the payment needed?”
Claire handed her a heavy gold coin.
“This should do it .”
Gwen found herself smiling at the Rider’s upbeat attitude.
“Then, my friend, let us help you begin your final trip.”
She waved her arm and open the Window to the Boathouse. The pair Stepped through and Gwen paused to give them both a moment before she moved to the door.
“This way, Rider. Your boat awaits.”
She opened the door and led Claire onto the porch where the Rider paused and gasped as she saw the flowers lining the path to the dock.
“It is impressive, isn’t it,” said Gwen with a chuckle. “I don’t get tired of seeing it. And they all mean something. The white and yellow chrysanthemums mean loyalty and honesty, and sorrow and love. The marigolds are creativity and remembering the dead. The roses love, longing and because these are so deeply red, they also mean farewell. The purple sweet pea is also a departure flower but it is more like goodby and thanks for a good time. And the different zinnia colors means slightly different things but they echo the others: affection, thinking of an absent friend, remembrance.”
“It’s beautiful,” breathed Claire.
Gwen watched as her friend lifted her eyes from the brilliant flowers to the River.
“Oh ---.”
“Stop,” said the Courier sharply taking the Rider’s arm. “Don’t tell me what you see.”
Claire continued to stare toward the water as she lifted a hand and put in on top of Gwen’s.
“I won’t, but I believe there will be a wonderful welcome for you when we meet again in time.”
The phrase used by Nathao’s people to remind themselves that they would be together again, almost brought Gwen to tears again, but Nan increased the flow of the new power moving through her and she calmed her emotions to the point she could smile and acknowledge that this was the best step for her friend.
The stones on the path crunched as they walked to the pier and the simple wooden boat. Gwen grasped the dull gray gavel that hung from a fraying rope attached to an aging tree stump and banged it once on the wood. The man sitting in the boat facing the water, turned and when he saw them, slowly climbed onto the pier.
“Dob, you get your payment this time. I am sorry Barnabas bypassed you rather like Rakeem did, but I am sure you know the details. Now, this Rider has completed her time with King Nathao and he offers this to you to see her safely across.”
Dob said nothing as he accepted the heavy coin and Gwen wasn’t sure if her apology registered. He dropped the payment into a pocket and stood back to help Claire in the boat.
The Rider turned to Gwen and embraced her.
“I thank you for everything you have been to me and for me, and I will miss you,” she whispered.
Gwen hugged her back but, this time, felt no need for tears.
“Give my love to my grandfather and Rakeem and you will probably see me once in a while traveling to Luke’s. Just remember I won’t see you so don’t do anything to scare me,” she said as she pulled back and grinned. “And yes, we will meet again in time.”
Claire wiped away a tear. “In time, Courier. We will meet again in time.”
January 16, 2017
Special Relationships
People with disabilities often have a different connection with animals.
I have a friend with Down Syndrome plus physical disabilities. She works in the real world in what can be a stressful job in a hospital cafeteria. She is also plagued by a nosy neighbor. She will often call to vent her frustration and bring me up to date on the latest events in her life and she always, without fail, asks how the cats and dogs are doing.
When she visits, the first thing she does is get down on the floor with the animals to re-introduce herself and they let her know she hasn't been forgotten. Before she gets completely in the living room they are running toward her because they remember her gentleness and kindness...and the fact that she gives them treats, lots of treats. As soon as she can break away, she grabs whatever treats are around and hands them out like it's Christmas.
When anyone needs to go outside she follows them around the yard, even in the rain or snow. One of the dogs does not appreciate the encouragement she will yell while he is pooping and he tries to hide behind a tree, but inevitably she finds him and announces to the world what a good poop he just had! He often slinks back into the house as she follows still praising him.
After an afternoon and dinner of spoiling everyone, saying good bye can take half an hour as she makes sure to talk to each one and sneak them one more treat.
When I return from taking her home, I swear the cats and dogs look a bit relieved that they can have some time to themselves, but they also look behind me, then at the kitchen where the treats sit on the counter and then at me. I just shake my head and tell them they have had plenty. And I remind them if they want to go outside, they can have some privacy.
I have a friend with Down Syndrome plus physical disabilities. She works in the real world in what can be a stressful job in a hospital cafeteria. She is also plagued by a nosy neighbor. She will often call to vent her frustration and bring me up to date on the latest events in her life and she always, without fail, asks how the cats and dogs are doing.
When she visits, the first thing she does is get down on the floor with the animals to re-introduce herself and they let her know she hasn't been forgotten. Before she gets completely in the living room they are running toward her because they remember her gentleness and kindness...and the fact that she gives them treats, lots of treats. As soon as she can break away, she grabs whatever treats are around and hands them out like it's Christmas.
When anyone needs to go outside she follows them around the yard, even in the rain or snow. One of the dogs does not appreciate the encouragement she will yell while he is pooping and he tries to hide behind a tree, but inevitably she finds him and announces to the world what a good poop he just had! He often slinks back into the house as she follows still praising him.
After an afternoon and dinner of spoiling everyone, saying good bye can take half an hour as she makes sure to talk to each one and sneak them one more treat.
When I return from taking her home, I swear the cats and dogs look a bit relieved that they can have some time to themselves, but they also look behind me, then at the kitchen where the treats sit on the counter and then at me. I just shake my head and tell them they have had plenty. And I remind them if they want to go outside, they can have some privacy.
January 9, 2017
A hint of what is to come....
The sun was low in the sky as the three people in black jackets stepped out of a back door of the chapel in Haliburum. They paused as a young man in a beige robe approached, his hands clasped in front of him.
The woman with the snow white hair spoke first.
“Well, young priest, what can we do for you? You’re a little far away from your Lady’s temple.”
“Mom, I forgot my keys again.”
“Sam,” sighed his mother in exasperation, “That’s the third time in two weeks.”
“I know, I know. Do you have the spares because I’m gonna be late for services if I don’t hurry.”
“You could have come in,” said one of the other figures.
“I feel kind of awkward, Uncle Eli. I know it sounds silly, but I do.”
“I have the keys inside. How about you hustle back and I bring them over. I can leave them with whomever is on duty at the front door, does that work? Demma won’t like it if you’re late again.”
“Do you want company?” asked the third figure.
“Thanks, but I’ll be alright, Uncle Jensen. And thanks, mom. I think it’s Jeanine on duty. Thanks again,” said Sam giving his mother a quick hug and sprinting off.
“He’s not gonna make it,” said his mother checking the sky. Nan, her jacket companion agreed with a ripple across her back. Gwen caressed her right sleeve in acknowledgement.
“Does Demma send home report cards, Courier?” smiled Eli.
“Actually, Rider, she will have her people contact parents or guardians if someone who has taken First Vows starts to mess up,” answered Gwen starting back up the stairs to the chapel offices, “And I have a feeling I may get a message on this one. Look, guys, I’ll run the keys over and then head to the restaurant. You go ahead.”
Eli and Jensen paused and then both said, “No.”
“Worrywarts,” scoffed the Courier.
“Rules, Gwen, King’s rules,” Eli reminded her, “You don’t go anywhere alone anymore. I believe his exact words were ‘The Courier has a tendency to attract trouble’.”
“P-shaw, those were the days when there was trouble to attract. Things are different now.”
“That’s alright,” said Jensen, “It’s a beautiful night for a stroll. I haven’t been over by Demma’s in quite a while.”
“Fine, let me get the keys. Be right back.”
While the Riders waited, big red-headed Jensen asked his colleague, “Why do you think the King has been so concerned about her? She’s right about things being different. Not only does she have Nat’s protection and that of basically every other Top Ten god with that hair of hers reminding them what she did, but she’s friends with Demma and Gethen. What or who could possibly threaten her?”
Eli shrugged, “Your guess is as good as mine. But at least she doesn’t make it difficult.”
As he finished Gwen re-appeared and skipped down the steps.
“Let’s go and give the folks at Demma’s a thrill, huh? But it bothers me that Sam felt so uncomfortable about coming in here. I’ll have to ask him about that.”
“I don’t think that’s really unusual,” said Eli as they set out at a quick pace, “He’s caught between two worlds and doesn’t have enough confidence to feel comfortable in either one. That will change as he becomes established at Demma’s. Before long he’ll be knocking on the office door here asking for the spare keys.”
Gwen and Jensen laughed and the banter continued as the trio of King Nathao’s employees briskly walked the several very large blocks in the city of Haliburum to the goddess Demma’s temple.
Once there, they followed the well-groomed sandy path that wound its way through a garden of grains, ornamental grasses and flowers to the main entrance. Several of the doors were already closed for the evening, but one double door was open and just inside, sitting at a desk, was a young acolyte.
Her eyes went wide as the three people dressed in black jackets walked in. Instinctively the Riders fell back to stand behind Gwen, unintentionally presenting a rather threatening picture.
Gwen smiled as she approached the desk and raised a hand in greeting.
“Jeanine? I’m Sam’s mother. He forgot his keys and I told him I’d drop them off here. Would you see that he gets them?”
“Yes, ma’am, Courier,” said the young woman recovering from her initial scare and taking a close look at Gwen’s hair and then her ice-blue eyes, “You’re Sam’s mother? He never said anything about that.”
“Well, I suppose it isn’t something that he would want to flaunt publicly, but if he keeps forgetting his keys, then word gets out.”
Gwen smiled as she handed them over to Jeanine.
“I remember seeing you here with Sam and his sister when you were guests,” said the acolyte, “I should have put two and two together and never did.”
“There’s no reason you should have,” said Gwen, “But now you know. Can you make sure Sam gets his keys?”
“Of course, Courier. Did you want to leave any message?”
The white haired woman thought for a moment and then said, “Yes, but not for Sam. Could you get word to Demma that I’d appreciate a few minutes of her time if she could spare them? I have an appointment at Ryanskill the day after tomorrow and will stop in. She knows the time.”
Nan offered a mental question and Gwen promised to share when they were alone.
“Of course,” said the young woman dealing with familiar ground. “I can pass that along.”
“Thank you and have a pleasant evening.”
“You, too, Courier and Riders,” she added looking at them and smiling shyly when Eli and Jensen both smiled at her.
The woman with the snow white hair spoke first.
“Well, young priest, what can we do for you? You’re a little far away from your Lady’s temple.”
“Mom, I forgot my keys again.”
“Sam,” sighed his mother in exasperation, “That’s the third time in two weeks.”
“I know, I know. Do you have the spares because I’m gonna be late for services if I don’t hurry.”
“You could have come in,” said one of the other figures.
“I feel kind of awkward, Uncle Eli. I know it sounds silly, but I do.”
“I have the keys inside. How about you hustle back and I bring them over. I can leave them with whomever is on duty at the front door, does that work? Demma won’t like it if you’re late again.”
“Do you want company?” asked the third figure.
“Thanks, but I’ll be alright, Uncle Jensen. And thanks, mom. I think it’s Jeanine on duty. Thanks again,” said Sam giving his mother a quick hug and sprinting off.
“He’s not gonna make it,” said his mother checking the sky. Nan, her jacket companion agreed with a ripple across her back. Gwen caressed her right sleeve in acknowledgement.
“Does Demma send home report cards, Courier?” smiled Eli.
“Actually, Rider, she will have her people contact parents or guardians if someone who has taken First Vows starts to mess up,” answered Gwen starting back up the stairs to the chapel offices, “And I have a feeling I may get a message on this one. Look, guys, I’ll run the keys over and then head to the restaurant. You go ahead.”
Eli and Jensen paused and then both said, “No.”
“Worrywarts,” scoffed the Courier.
“Rules, Gwen, King’s rules,” Eli reminded her, “You don’t go anywhere alone anymore. I believe his exact words were ‘The Courier has a tendency to attract trouble’.”
“P-shaw, those were the days when there was trouble to attract. Things are different now.”
“That’s alright,” said Jensen, “It’s a beautiful night for a stroll. I haven’t been over by Demma’s in quite a while.”
“Fine, let me get the keys. Be right back.”
While the Riders waited, big red-headed Jensen asked his colleague, “Why do you think the King has been so concerned about her? She’s right about things being different. Not only does she have Nat’s protection and that of basically every other Top Ten god with that hair of hers reminding them what she did, but she’s friends with Demma and Gethen. What or who could possibly threaten her?”
Eli shrugged, “Your guess is as good as mine. But at least she doesn’t make it difficult.”
As he finished Gwen re-appeared and skipped down the steps.
“Let’s go and give the folks at Demma’s a thrill, huh? But it bothers me that Sam felt so uncomfortable about coming in here. I’ll have to ask him about that.”
“I don’t think that’s really unusual,” said Eli as they set out at a quick pace, “He’s caught between two worlds and doesn’t have enough confidence to feel comfortable in either one. That will change as he becomes established at Demma’s. Before long he’ll be knocking on the office door here asking for the spare keys.”
Gwen and Jensen laughed and the banter continued as the trio of King Nathao’s employees briskly walked the several very large blocks in the city of Haliburum to the goddess Demma’s temple.
Once there, they followed the well-groomed sandy path that wound its way through a garden of grains, ornamental grasses and flowers to the main entrance. Several of the doors were already closed for the evening, but one double door was open and just inside, sitting at a desk, was a young acolyte.
Her eyes went wide as the three people dressed in black jackets walked in. Instinctively the Riders fell back to stand behind Gwen, unintentionally presenting a rather threatening picture.
Gwen smiled as she approached the desk and raised a hand in greeting.
“Jeanine? I’m Sam’s mother. He forgot his keys and I told him I’d drop them off here. Would you see that he gets them?”
“Yes, ma’am, Courier,” said the young woman recovering from her initial scare and taking a close look at Gwen’s hair and then her ice-blue eyes, “You’re Sam’s mother? He never said anything about that.”
“Well, I suppose it isn’t something that he would want to flaunt publicly, but if he keeps forgetting his keys, then word gets out.”
Gwen smiled as she handed them over to Jeanine.
“I remember seeing you here with Sam and his sister when you were guests,” said the acolyte, “I should have put two and two together and never did.”
“There’s no reason you should have,” said Gwen, “But now you know. Can you make sure Sam gets his keys?”
“Of course, Courier. Did you want to leave any message?”
The white haired woman thought for a moment and then said, “Yes, but not for Sam. Could you get word to Demma that I’d appreciate a few minutes of her time if she could spare them? I have an appointment at Ryanskill the day after tomorrow and will stop in. She knows the time.”
Nan offered a mental question and Gwen promised to share when they were alone.
“Of course,” said the young woman dealing with familiar ground. “I can pass that along.”
“Thank you and have a pleasant evening.”
“You, too, Courier and Riders,” she added looking at them and smiling shyly when Eli and Jensen both smiled at her.
January 4, 2017
Review, Receive
It was great to see how many people responded to the free Kindle offer of the first book in the DKC series..."Payback."
Now, to up the ante and build some community, I am asking those who got a copy to review it and post on Amazon and/or Goodreads. For a limited number of you who do, I will send you a signed hard copy of "Payback" AND number two "Pawn."
I will be looking, but let me know with a note here so I can send your copies.
The holidays have been a blur and now the work/write/feed-the-animals routine begins again. I am filling in gaps and extending plot lines for the third installment where there will be a turn-over in characters and, I suppose, much gnashing of teeth as we try to develop a name. This is exciting, though, because change will open the way for new ideas and twists that I can't wait to share.
Now, to up the ante and build some community, I am asking those who got a copy to review it and post on Amazon and/or Goodreads. For a limited number of you who do, I will send you a signed hard copy of "Payback" AND number two "Pawn."
I will be looking, but let me know with a note here so I can send your copies.
The holidays have been a blur and now the work/write/feed-the-animals routine begins again. I am filling in gaps and extending plot lines for the third installment where there will be a turn-over in characters and, I suppose, much gnashing of teeth as we try to develop a name. This is exciting, though, because change will open the way for new ideas and twists that I can't wait to share.
December 23, 2016
Time Is Up
The frenetic hours of shopping are almost over as we get closer to the lighting of candles for Hanukkah and for Christmas.
There is a deadline for everything: even the Empire State Building in its Christmas and candy cane motif turns off at 2am. So does the big tree in Rockefeller Center. Darkness. Time to re-group and re-invigorate....or just totter home to sleep off the time at the bar.
Is it worth it? You tell me. I remember the rewarding smiles and screams that meant the gift "nailed it." I also remember the polite Thank You and later call asking if it would be all right to return it. That certainly pushes one to give gift cards or cash, doesn't it?
I offered the first book in The Dream King's Courier series free in the past weeks hoping to gain traction going into the holidays, but also hoping to give you some escape from the stress of the holidays. If you took advantage you are brilliant and I ask you to write a review. If you didn't, keep watching. There will be one more shortly.
Watch holiday lights and enjoy the promise they offer. Revel in family and friends and remember you are the glue that keeps them coming back to you.
There is a deadline for everything: even the Empire State Building in its Christmas and candy cane motif turns off at 2am. So does the big tree in Rockefeller Center. Darkness. Time to re-group and re-invigorate....or just totter home to sleep off the time at the bar.
Is it worth it? You tell me. I remember the rewarding smiles and screams that meant the gift "nailed it." I also remember the polite Thank You and later call asking if it would be all right to return it. That certainly pushes one to give gift cards or cash, doesn't it?
I offered the first book in The Dream King's Courier series free in the past weeks hoping to gain traction going into the holidays, but also hoping to give you some escape from the stress of the holidays. If you took advantage you are brilliant and I ask you to write a review. If you didn't, keep watching. There will be one more shortly.
Watch holiday lights and enjoy the promise they offer. Revel in family and friends and remember you are the glue that keeps them coming back to you.
December 11, 2016
Technology
My profile picture disappears, through my own fault, and to replace it becomes a journey through a land of a foreign language. Sigh. This too shall pass with an afternoon of frustration or the discovery of a magic IT elf living under the porch.
While I look for the perfect picture and the tools to load it, please enjoy the book(s) and write reviews.
Now what would a self-respecting IT elf be named? I have to check under the porch.
While I look for the perfect picture and the tools to load it, please enjoy the book(s) and write reviews.
Now what would a self-respecting IT elf be named? I have to check under the porch.
December 1, 2016
Free- Did you miss it? Keep looking.
The Kindle version of the first book in the series was free this past Sunday and Monday. If you missed it, don't worry....we'll do it again in the next few weeks.
I hope to make it easier for readers who aren't sure they want to commit. I hope, if you missed it this time, you will watch for the next offer and gift yourself for the holidays.
In the meantime, a Saturday Thanksgiving proved to be a great idea. Family came together and while the old folks talked inside, the boys played Frisbee and the girls went for a walk with the babies...and I enjoyed time in the kitchen with no big fuss.
That disappeared when everyone came back in and it was crunch time for dinner. But I could stand back (with a big glass of wine) and wonder if Nathao's Riders and Courier ever did a dinner together like this. Everyone could bring a dish or wine and strengthen the bonds that work to feed the caring feeling for each other that gives them the strength to go the extra yard, even if means Crossing to Luke's.
I think a dinner of Thanksgiving and Bonding should be in Book 3. Thoughts? Should it be turkey?
I hope to make it easier for readers who aren't sure they want to commit. I hope, if you missed it this time, you will watch for the next offer and gift yourself for the holidays.
In the meantime, a Saturday Thanksgiving proved to be a great idea. Family came together and while the old folks talked inside, the boys played Frisbee and the girls went for a walk with the babies...and I enjoyed time in the kitchen with no big fuss.
That disappeared when everyone came back in and it was crunch time for dinner. But I could stand back (with a big glass of wine) and wonder if Nathao's Riders and Courier ever did a dinner together like this. Everyone could bring a dish or wine and strengthen the bonds that work to feed the caring feeling for each other that gives them the strength to go the extra yard, even if means Crossing to Luke's.
I think a dinner of Thanksgiving and Bonding should be in Book 3. Thoughts? Should it be turkey?
November 24, 2016
Thanksgiving Day
This is my favorite holiday. But in my profession, one cannot always count on getting the day off...or more importantly, the day after. I am up at midnight to be at work in NYC...so not having the day after off means not celebrating on "the day"...no problem. I raised my kids with the idea that a holiday is the day you make it, and for us this year that means Thanksgiving is Saturday.
Actually, this has been a good day. We have had the chance to clean and bake and prepare for our holiday without the stress of past years. Who knows, this may be the new normal. Enchiladas for dinner, whoo hoo!
Eat, drink, enjoy. Happy Thanksgiving.
Actually, this has been a good day. We have had the chance to clean and bake and prepare for our holiday without the stress of past years. Who knows, this may be the new normal. Enchiladas for dinner, whoo hoo!
Eat, drink, enjoy. Happy Thanksgiving.
November 7, 2016
Take an hour, think, then vote
We are back on Standard Time having "gained" an hour this weekend. Some used it for much-welcomed sleep while others used it to party or further a project. But what if we had taken the time to think about how we will vote tomorrow.
After a tediously long campaign that increasingly took on a tone of rancor and bitterness and fostered statements that only the truly besotted believed, I am ready to cast my ballot and get on with things. But this is just the beginning. No matter who wins, the stalemate that is Washington will need a persistent, yet firm, sledge hammer to loosen it if we are to have a responsible government.
For bipartisan politics to resume in this country we need incredibly brave people to step across the aisle and work together. Yes, that means compromise and in some cases you may not totally support the outcome. But to do otherwise is to relegate the US to four years of stagnation and a sense of division that will strengthen with time and condemn the next presidential contest to mud wrestling, not just mud slinging.
Take some time to think before you cast you vote and do your best to move beyond the campaign rhetoric to sensible conversation. Work for the change you want in lawful, peaceful channels. The first step in that process is to vote.
After a tediously long campaign that increasingly took on a tone of rancor and bitterness and fostered statements that only the truly besotted believed, I am ready to cast my ballot and get on with things. But this is just the beginning. No matter who wins, the stalemate that is Washington will need a persistent, yet firm, sledge hammer to loosen it if we are to have a responsible government.
For bipartisan politics to resume in this country we need incredibly brave people to step across the aisle and work together. Yes, that means compromise and in some cases you may not totally support the outcome. But to do otherwise is to relegate the US to four years of stagnation and a sense of division that will strengthen with time and condemn the next presidential contest to mud wrestling, not just mud slinging.
Take some time to think before you cast you vote and do your best to move beyond the campaign rhetoric to sensible conversation. Work for the change you want in lawful, peaceful channels. The first step in that process is to vote.
October 24, 2016
Working on Book 3 - What do you think?
Roland was on the brink of deep sleep when he heard his name and a knocking at his door. He opened and Zinc grabbed him.
“We have a problem. She’s sick and having seizures.”
“What are you talking about?” said the ringleader wiping his eyes.
“Your Courier. I think she’s dying.”
That comment sent the adrenalin rushing and Ronald’s mind cleared.
“What do you dying? How much of the drug did you shoot her with?”
The hunter shrugged in obvious distress. “What I would use for a doe.”
“Idiot! How much does a average doe weigh?”
“You wanted a clean drop, so I went for the high range about 180 or 200 pounds.”
“She is nowhere near that weight, asshole. You overdosed her!”
In a panic, Roland grabbed Nan and turned on Zinc. “If she dies, Ao will want to know why and you’d better be ready with answers.”
“You said -----.”
“Shut up! Just shut the F-up.”The younger man glared at Zinc. “You are in such deep shit.”
The pair raced to the outer building where they had dumped Gwen and as he entered, Roland gagged at the smell of vomit, feces and sweat. He looked at the woman lying motionless in the straw, her body twisted in an unnatural position and groaned.
“This wasn’t supposed to happen,” he muttered through clenched teeth. “Not supposed to happen.”
Gwen stirred and her body began to shake again as another seizure began.
“Get Abeha in here,” he ordered.
“The doc doesn’t know about this,” stuttered Zinc.
“She will now. GET HER IN HERE!”
The hunter jumped and ran as Roland clutched Nan and watched his prisoner writhe in the straw.
“Jacket,” he suddenly muttered, “Jacket can help.”
Gagging again, he approached the Courier and tossed Nan down so she landed open and across her partner’s body.
“Do something. Stop this,” he said as he jumped back. “Stop this.”
Nan was appalled by her first contact. Gwen body was shutting down as toxins flooded organs and cells and the coat desperately looked for a place to start any healing. She found it in the kidneys which had emptied and were grasping for a clean source of strength and the liver which was struggling to hold its own in cleansing its system. Nan provided them both with a boost of energy and then a lifeline to the outside from which she continued to draw air and life.
The lungs and heart were shutting down until she grabbed them and pulled them open to feed from the stream of energy she was channeling to the other organs. Nan could feel some slight improvement and then sensed the next seizure building. She spiraled her essence through Gwen nervous system and found the growing nucleus of disruption with the full intent of smashing it, but in her contact with cells she noticed a difference in texture and color that made her pause. The damage being done by the remnants of the elixir that had save Gwen’s life once, was morphing into healthy, whole cells that were quickly becoming strong and vibrant. Yes, she acknowledged, even powerful. Instead of blocking the seizure completely, Nan worked to manage its force and bled some of it out of the Courier’s body, through herself, to ease the impact.
“We have a problem. She’s sick and having seizures.”
“What are you talking about?” said the ringleader wiping his eyes.
“Your Courier. I think she’s dying.”
That comment sent the adrenalin rushing and Ronald’s mind cleared.
“What do you dying? How much of the drug did you shoot her with?”
The hunter shrugged in obvious distress. “What I would use for a doe.”
“Idiot! How much does a average doe weigh?”
“You wanted a clean drop, so I went for the high range about 180 or 200 pounds.”
“She is nowhere near that weight, asshole. You overdosed her!”
In a panic, Roland grabbed Nan and turned on Zinc. “If she dies, Ao will want to know why and you’d better be ready with answers.”
“You said -----.”
“Shut up! Just shut the F-up.”The younger man glared at Zinc. “You are in such deep shit.”
The pair raced to the outer building where they had dumped Gwen and as he entered, Roland gagged at the smell of vomit, feces and sweat. He looked at the woman lying motionless in the straw, her body twisted in an unnatural position and groaned.
“This wasn’t supposed to happen,” he muttered through clenched teeth. “Not supposed to happen.”
Gwen stirred and her body began to shake again as another seizure began.
“Get Abeha in here,” he ordered.
“The doc doesn’t know about this,” stuttered Zinc.
“She will now. GET HER IN HERE!”
The hunter jumped and ran as Roland clutched Nan and watched his prisoner writhe in the straw.
“Jacket,” he suddenly muttered, “Jacket can help.”
Gagging again, he approached the Courier and tossed Nan down so she landed open and across her partner’s body.
“Do something. Stop this,” he said as he jumped back. “Stop this.”
Nan was appalled by her first contact. Gwen body was shutting down as toxins flooded organs and cells and the coat desperately looked for a place to start any healing. She found it in the kidneys which had emptied and were grasping for a clean source of strength and the liver which was struggling to hold its own in cleansing its system. Nan provided them both with a boost of energy and then a lifeline to the outside from which she continued to draw air and life.
The lungs and heart were shutting down until she grabbed them and pulled them open to feed from the stream of energy she was channeling to the other organs. Nan could feel some slight improvement and then sensed the next seizure building. She spiraled her essence through Gwen nervous system and found the growing nucleus of disruption with the full intent of smashing it, but in her contact with cells she noticed a difference in texture and color that made her pause. The damage being done by the remnants of the elixir that had save Gwen’s life once, was morphing into healthy, whole cells that were quickly becoming strong and vibrant. Yes, she acknowledged, even powerful. Instead of blocking the seizure completely, Nan worked to manage its force and bled some of it out of the Courier’s body, through herself, to ease the impact.
