Skip to main content

Ho! Ho! Ho! Merry Christmas!

Here's another small token I'm imparting with. How I've handled unexpected dynamics discovered around publishing my work. But before that, let me plug a note about the book I just finished reading: The Perfect Christmas by Debbie Macomber.

Did I ever say what bothered me about 'traditional' romance fiction? If not, the Perfect Christmas would be my answer. Now, just hold your horses here. I didn't say anything about not liking the book. I, in fact, LOVED the book. It's the sweetest, and funniest, short romance read I have come across in quite some time.

All the elements are there; the intriguing one sentence 'solid' premise. This would be your page-turning element. The pacing is great, dialogue even better, the story is very realistic, and the humor just rolls off the page. Any reader who enjoys escaping from the monotonies of life will absolutely love this book, just where my troubles reside. This story has to be the perfect example of how falling in love 'should' be.

On to what I took for granted.

Embarrassment. Embarrassment is a necessary ingredient I correlate to a speaker event I attended where the speaker was telling an audience about how when he hears people asking, 'why me?,' he thinks, 'why not you? Who else would you rather it be?'

At the time I couldn't place where this phrase fit in my need to know, much less could I recall where it went in the monologue, but was one of these phrases that tailed behind me just about everywhere I went; a flashback that not long ago hit me when I got to thinking about how I dealt with embarrassment.

I grew up spurning ridicule, where rather than be ashamed I would get angry, continuously doing whatever was supposed to cause embarrassment. None-the-less I'd still ask why? Why do I enjoy ripping and running wild, and smacking gum, and sitting un-lady-like? Why can't I just do what all the other nice girls are doing so I wouldn't stand out to be ridiculed?

...lending a heavy hand to this next one.

...Fear. I'm not saying aspiring this or the others should rush out to endure embarrassment to overcome the fear factor, but I am saying fear is a chasm waiting to greet, with great zest and zeal, anyone aspiring to share his or her work 'at large', zipping right back around to the words the speaker impressed me with. 'Why me?' I now know why me. Persistent ridicule numbed me to embarrassment, thus how I've managed fear.

...conjoined with another chasm I'd taken for granted.

The Orb. In short, again digressing back on the speaker, I understand that things not easily interpreted at the time I experience them, happen for a reason. And no, I don't go all out looking for meaning in every thing that happens, but do appreciate, as in this case, being able to recognize these associations.

While I always whine to myself (and okay, maybe to others as well) about how I (so badly) want to dole out Perfect Christmas type stories, I'm forever reminded of this power holding me to stay true to myself; sincere and serious about my work; and respectful of the gift.

Hope you've enjoyed this jingle. Please don't take it for granted.

Listen Out for the Drum Roll of what Tops My Lists this YEAR!

Comments

  1. I finished the book last night and I am going to read the second story tonight. It is a cute story! I like cute and I love how things didn't take 6 years later to figure out.

    I am going to try the cranberry walnut cobbler recipe too! Very cute story.

    ReplyDelete

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

A Rumor About One Race

It’s a funny thing, how some things you hear stay with you in that sixth sense sort of way, as if the information will serve some future purpose.

True Story. I was in elementary school when a teacher got to talking about three true races—Caucasian, Mongoloid, and Negroid, and how one day there would be One Race. For a placeholder I attended Philadelphia (PA) Public Schools, K-straight thru-12 (99.98% black student population) where there was always ‘that’ teacher who would put aside a textbook to impart ‘move to the edge of your seat’ information... something I later figured out would take “dynamic positioning” to find its originating source. I even think the teacher may have said we wouldn’t find this information written anywhere.

At any rate, I’m all kinds of fuzzy about how the original three races came to be, but recall 3rd grade hands going up in the air asking why this and how that and what about this, and then somebody saying, “unt un... my mother said...”

Naturally I was intr…

When Opinions Cross the Line

Two literary topographies brought this historical commentary together; a social media Headline asserting some books are irrelevant, and Stacey Dash’s memoir, ‘There Goes My Social Life’. (My other thoughts here).

I didn't pause long enough to so much as note the social media headline, but did pause after catching wind of Stacey Dash's outspoken stance on supporting American businessman and Republican politician, Mitt Romney. Stacey is an American Actress notable for her role in the film CluelessSIGH—I’ve never seen Clueless, but have seen this actress in other films... which was what inspired me to want to read her memoir. Being a Big Picture thinker, I couldn't make heads or tails out of the hoopla behind her outspoken political views.

My great-great grandfather, born in America in the mid 1800’s, was a Republican. Per my father, historically the American working class primarily voted Republican, though he, and then me, marveled about my great-great grandfather's r…

What Makes a Book Feel Good? ...A Top 10 List

When you ...as it’s said... live and learn, you learn LOVE comes in stages. So far, I’ve come across three stages of love. Puppy Love. Hormonal Love. And the ultimate love. Unconditional Love.

Lo and behold albeit, after finally getting around to reading Roy Blount’s memoir, “Be Sweet” (a memoirist who has at least twenty some years on me), I got to reading him summarizing unconditional love as ‘just an expression’ ..."like any other two words." Now, because his memoir is largely satirical, and given the title, on top of knowing better to think I know more than my elders (haha), it was hard to tell whether to take the definition seriously or facetiously. Whichever the case, as of today I define unconditional love without conditions. Unlike puppy love, built largely on a giddy childish infatuation superficially marveling over things or people, or that hormonal love responding to the cyclones and ebbs moving our hormones in this invisible like cylinder, there are no ifs, ands…