WHERE THE MAGIC LIVES

There is a land not too far from where you sit right now.

Its velvet grasses miss the press of your feet.

The billowing clouds strain to see your body walk slowly up the rising hill.

The fragrant winds blow through the lonely tree branches, whispering your name as they seek some trace of you.

It is where the magic lives.

That realm is lonely, wondering where you have been.

And where have you and I been?

We have been caught up in the drudgery that writing has become. Burdened by life's duties and our own doubts, we have lost our way.

We have lost the magic.

Did we lose it straining for that first perfect sentence in our new novel?

Looking at the blank, impatient computer monitor did we forget the simple wonder of just writing the first simple sentence that occurred to us?

That creative power which bubbles so tingly at the beginning of our book quiets down after a time. The journey becomes slower and slower, the inertia of doubt steadily dragging our steps.

Do we continue doggedly on or do we stop to refresh ourselves?

The answer to that question determines whether we find our way back to the magic or not.

How do we refresh ourselves?

How do we refresh ourselves on a long wilderness walk? We stop by a stream and drink.

Drink of those poets and writers who sparked that love of the written word spoken in the lonely heart of the reader.

As a hiker takes shade under the canopy of a huge oak, listen to the music of those artists who stirred you to imagine images that you just had to write and make live in your own way.

Then, you shall write as a child writes ... not thinking of a result but thinking in terms of discovery as if you were hiking once again where the magic lives.

It is the Zen of writing:
the creation takes place between your fingers and the keyboard, not before in a thought or afterwards in a recasting.

The magic is there waiting for you. It will come if you but get out of its way and let it in.

***
Give yourself a treat. Watch and listen:

BELIEVE IN THE MAGIC OF CHRISTMAS

 

 

The magic memories of Christmas that most of us treasure are unique to each of us.

 

Yet, sometimes clarity comes only upon reflection. 

 

We were so caught up with the tugs and pulls of the season that we missed the truly priceless people and moments. 

 

We were blind to the love healing us and holding us tight in the arms, words, and actions of those we too often took for granted.

 

Still, we were innocent enough to see fairies dancing upon frosted lake surfaces, to taste the falling snow, and to laughingly make snow-angels.

 

As adults the world is too much with us. 

 

Yet, The Great Mystery has given us one month out of 12 to see the world as the child we once were, the child we can once again be if only we put down the hates and anguish that only harm us anyway.

 

If the white, green, red, and blue lights don’t twinkle with their normal festive happiness and instead glower like warning beacons, it is the mind that views them that has changed.

 

The magic is still there, waiting for the child you once were to believe in it again.

 

By years of hurt and anger, you have closed the door to it. 

 

But each time you smile to a hurried face that seems lost in life, each time you back up to allow a weary older person in line ahead of you,

 

each time you pause to look at the snow-layered buildings as the child you once were would see them --

 

you open the door to that Christmas Magic a little wider.

 

Every day you live can be magical if you work at it.  The path of least resistence is to live in world leeched of its color and vitality by anger and hate. 

 

Choose to find the laughter and beauty as you live each hour.  Each laugh, each act of compassion is a brushstroke that adds the color of magic back to your life.

 

The magic of Christmas has nothing to do with decorations, lights, presents, Christmas trees or anything so material.

It has everything to do with a little girl’s smile and a mom who buys real candy canes for their tree so she can hear her little girl giggle as they decorate it together.

Give a smile or a laugh to someone.  The present you will receive will be ... magical.

The gifts we give that matter most are the ones that cannot be bought or sold.

The love we share and the memories we leave behind, are the greatest gifts we can give. They are the only gifts that last a lifetime.

THE LIE OF CHRISTMAS MAGIC

 

Christmas has never been magical, even from the beginning.

We tend to overlook that the holy birth occurred in Bethlehem because of an act of oppression, and the threat of violence,

 when a man and woman were forced to travel from Nazareth to their ancestral home by the decree of an occupying army in the final days of the young woman’s pregnancy.

And, although we tend to be only vaguely aware of it, the massacre of innocents is woven inextricably into the story.

Only three days after Christmas Day, on Dec. 28, the Church’s calendar remembers the other children of Bethlehem,

the ones left behind when Joseph fled with Mary and Jesus to Egypt for safety following an angelic warning, the ones slaughtered by King Herod in a fearful rage.

Magic in Christmas? 

No matter how much we might like to make it so, magic has never been prominent in these events.

Though we may rarely come to terms with it, the Christmas story begins and ends in violence.

We should not be surprised.

We should not be surprised that the incarnation of good, of which the innocence of all children reminds us, is not received either warmly or passively by the presence of evil.

Sometimes that evil finds its expression in armies of violence, sometimes in greed and fear and power,

and sometimes in clouds of darkness that overtake and consume those among us most vulnerable

to delusion left to their own devices by a society deaf to the needs of those without power: the old, the mentally ill, the poor.

The thought that there is no magic in Christmas is good:

Magic too easily lets us off the hook for the role we are called to play in the story,

the story of goodness being birthed in the world, the story of light that the darkness would overcome, the story of innocence confronted by evil, the story of Christ.

No, there is no magic.

What there is is an age-old struggle with evil that comes in many forms.

Christmas comes into play, not because it represents even a temporary respite from reality, but because the birth of incarnate love lays bare the reality that it is the evil that does not belong here.

The birth of incarnate love lays bare that the slaughter of innocents in whatever form, child or adult, finds no place, no home, no tolerance, no business as usual in the world of which God dreams.

And once we are robbed of the magic of Christmas, we begin, maybe, to grasp its reality.

The reality is that the birth of the Christ child does not cast a magical spell rendering the presence of evil ineffectual.

It does not relieve humankind of the hell-before hell we have made of this world. Rather, it invites us to participate in its redemption.

The birth of the Christ child is not a tool for us to use, like sorcerer’s apprentices, magically relieving us from doing the hard work that needs to be done. It is a call to action.

God has entered the world in a profoundly real, not magical, way. And that in this particular child, light has come into the world, and the darkness did not, and will not, overcome it.

{Tomorrow: BELIEVE IN THE MAGIC OF CHRISTMAS}

Cheersfest: MARK TWAIN ON LEE BIRD

 

 

 

The ghost of Mark Twain stepped out on Meilori’s stage.

“I come not to praise Caesar, ah, Lee Bird but to bash him.  Bash him about like a juggler in his fancy brown jacket tossing up crystal birds.

 

‘Course if they were live birds, he might have started out with a fine white jacket like mine!”

Mark lit a cigar.  “Look at this here picture of Lee as a juggler.

Underneath it you could put the caption: “You know maybe I should have trained for this before I walked out here.”

“Some folks praise Lee for starting the A to Z Challenge.  Why the man only did it ‘cause he flat ran out of ideas for his own posts

and thought he could swipe some of yours, don’t you know?  Now, folks ask me if a post by Lee Bird is worth two in the bush.”

Mark blew out a smoke ring.  “Well, if you’re talking the Australian Bush, it sure is!  Those dang kangaroos are a tough audience!”

“Now, if any of you out there dream you are a juggler like Lee Bird, and you happen to wear false teeth,

you might not like what you see when you open your eyes.  But I must be off.  I’m auditioning to play Lee in the documentary of his life! Who better?

{220 words}

(Combining the 80 words for the 4 questions, the 100 words for the flash fiction, and the 40 words allowed for the caption.)

Hosted again by Mark Koopmans, Morgan Shamy, David Powers King, Stephen Tremp and The Ninja Captain himself, CheersFest 2.0 will go LIVE! Dec. 9, 2013.

In order to proper cheer (or roast) Lee:

Here are four questions for you to answer on CheersFest Day, but please keep the retorts short – (no longer than 20 words each):

· Why did Lee come up with the A-Z Challenge?

· If someone dreams about being a juggler, what does it mean?

· Is a post by Mr. Bird worth two in the bush?

· Who could play Lee in a documentary? (Living or dead.)

In +/- 100 words, (excluding the title) write flash fiction using all these prompts:

· Bird

· Juggler

· Challenge

· Brown Jacket

· Tossing

For Bonus Points:

· In +/- 40 words, can you come up with a caption for Lee’s Facebook picture?

As usual, the Very Demanding Rules of CheersFest include:

· Join the Linky List *below*

· Have fun

· Post your 200 (total) word contribution ON Monday, Dec. 9, 2013.

· No, seriously. Have Fun!

Two winners – chosen by Lee – will each win a prize:

· An autographed color photo of Arlee Bird appearing as the Court Wizard in the World of Fantasy Players. Also included in the first prize pack are an assortment of promotional materials from Lee’s show biz days with a personal letter and a brief history of his entertainment career.

· A personalized graphics design from Jeremy at Being Retro for the winner’s blog. (Jeremy will design a header, badge, button, banner, or whatever might appeal to the winner.)

·

Excited to roast and toast our blogger buddy, Lee?

If so, the Linky is now open. Sign up and we’ll see you on Dec. 9^th

---

1. Mark “Madman” Koopmans	2. Alex “Clone me a” Cavanaugh
3. Morg “the Borg” Shamy	4. Stephen “Wormhole” Tremp
5. David “Don’t Mess with the” King	6. Queendsheena
7. C. M. Brown	8. melanie schulz
9. Jay Noel	10. Philipscom/Ariel's Jottings
11. Bish Denham	12. Tina @ Life is Good
13. The Beveled Edge	14. M. J. Joachim's Writing Tips
15. Livia Peterson - Leave it to Livia	16. Ella's Edge
17. Empty Nest Insider	18. Michelle @ Writer~In~Transit
19. Nicki Elson	20. Medeia Sharif
21. Life by Chocolate	22. DG Hudson - Rainforest Writing
23. Sue's Trifles	24. Wendy Tyler Ryan
25. Defending The Pen	26. Focus
27. Sydney Aaliyah Michelle	28. Ferret-Faced Fascist Friends
29. Your Daily Dose	30. Meetings with My Muse
31. A Beer for the Shower	32. Carrie-Anne's Magick Theatre
33. Far Away Eyes

You are next... Click here to enter
This list will close in 1 day, 0 hrs, 49 min (12/9/2013 11:59 PM North America - Eastern Standard Time)

Linky Tools | Linky Blog 2013

IS RAP POETRY'S ILLEGITIMATE CHILD?

 

I was staying out of the ice storm at Meilori's playing poker with my friends.



The ghost of Mark Twain, ever ready to spice things up, asked Samuel McCord,

"You have every jazz great living and undead playing here.  But you won't allow Rap.  Why is that?"

He smiled under the black brim of his Stetson. 

"I don't like it.  The rhythm is like a old model T trying to come to life.  Rhythm is a natural thing.

It's in everything you say and write, even if you don't intend for it to be.  The rhythm of Rap is forced and jarring.  Not pretty to my ears."

Sam shrugged.  "Every art form has its venue. Meilori's is not the one for Rap."



Louis Armstrong drew another card.  "And if a Rapper insists?"

Alice Wentworth showed every one of her very sharp teeth.  "I explain matters to them."



Duke Ellington snorted, "Singing Rap is like playing Scrabble with all the vowels missing."



Oscar Wilde slapped Mark's hand as he tried dealing off the bottom of the deck.  "I find no beauty in this Rap only ugliness.  And there is entirely too much of that in the world as it is."

Duke nodded.  "What would you be without music? Music is everything. Nature is music (cicadas in the tropical night). The sea is music, the wind is music."

He smiled dreamily,  "The rain drumming on the roof and the storm raging in the sky are music.

Music is the oldest entity. The scope of music is immense and infinite. It is the ‘esperanto’ of the world."



Miles Davis tapped his cards on his chin.  "Rappers seem all attitude.  If they act too hip, you know they can’t play shit."



John Coltrane nodded in agreement. 

"Mandela taught us there is a better way than flinging hate back at hate.  My music is the spiritual expression of what I am – my faith, my knowledge, my being …

When you begin to see the possibilities of music, you desire to do something really good for people, to help humanity free itself from its hangups …

I want to speak to their souls not to their anger."

Sam sighed, "Most Rap seems mediocre and the problem there is that mediocre rap tends to repeat the same phrase over and over and restrict their themes to 'booty'."



Dizzy Gillespie frowned.  "Men have died for this Rap. You can’t get more serious than that."

Samuel shook his head.  "They died, not for their music, but because they could not control their inner demons."

He looked at his right gloved hand.  "There is a lot of that going around."

Mark Twain scowled, "But is Rap poetry?"

Louis Armstrong said, "Maybe it is like it was with me -- I don’t need words – it’s all in the phrasing."



Robert Frost sighed as he folded his hand. 

"There are no tears in Rap only anger and lust.  Poetry speaks to the soul.  This Rap seems to speak to the glands. 

There is an inner, silent current of music to poetry.  While this Rap is relentless statccato, like anger pounding on the door."

Frost stroked his chin.  "The Rapper wishes to voice the strong rhythm of rage

but the words and meanings are lost one to another in their very repetition like angry faces in a mob."

Oscar Wilde raised an eyebrow.  "I wish those words had been mine."

Mark Twain snorted, "Don't worry, Ostrich, tomorrow they will be."

HOW TO GET YOUR eBOOK NOTICED_ 'Tis More Blessed

http://www.milojamesfowler.com/2013/12/tis-more-blessed-week-1.html

Some weeks before I was stabbed by a robber, I agreed to be part of Milo's great idea. 

Funny how becoming a human sheath for a knife can take your mind off your promises!

Anyway, I keep my word ... when I can remember it! 

So for this weekend, in honor of Milo's 'TIS MORE BLESSED weekly event,

I am giving away THE THREE SPIRIT KNIGHT!

http://www.amazon.com/THREE-SPIRIT-KNIGHT-Roland-Yeomans-ebook/dp/B00AD94EQE/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1386385732&sr=8-1&keywords=the+three+spirit+knight

#3 in Kindle Store > Kindle eBooks > Romance > Time Travel

HOW TO GET YOUR eBOOK NOTICED!

You can write the most selling novel ever crafted ...

     but it will die if you cannot draw internet attention to it.

Most self-published books sell fewer than 100 or 150 copies.

GETTING YOUR eBOOK NOTICED IS THE HARDEST THING ABOUT SELLING YOUR BOOK.

I. HOW DO YOU GET THAT ATTENTION?

1.) Book cover

You can choose a proper image for the book cover that will draw attention to your eBook.
     a.) You need to choose the proper thumbnail with a theme that reflects the contents of your
           eBook.

     b.) Many readers will be drawn to the book cover long before
          reading the description and the reviews.

     c.) It helps if you have a book cover that instantly draws attention.

     d.) Look at the image for THE THREE SPIRIT KNIGHT.

2.) Pricing

      a.)  It should neither be too cheap or too expensive
      b.) People value what costs them and hold to be inferior what they got cheaply.

3.) TITLE

      a.) Pick your title BEFORE you begin (you'll be with your novel for weeks so have a
           title that inspires you!

      b.) It's a marriage - LOVE YOUR TITLE

      C.) What a great title does:
            1.) Captures your audience’s attention
            2.) It communicates what your e-book is about
            3,) If it’s your style, it should include a little bit of a “What the Heck?” factor:
                      
Titles tell your audience a little something about you.
Look at these three sets of words:

• Epic; Awesome.
• Remarkable; Brilliant.
• Elegant; Erudite

Each pair of words has a unique flavor. You can almost begin to see the people that would use them in a title or a headline.

Which means that the words in your e-book title need to reflect your style.

       D.) WHO'S AN OXYMORON?~!

           i.) EMOTIONAL INTELLIGENCE was a great title to an older book because it linked two
                opposites.

           ii.) Startle your reader and snare his attention.

4.) YOUR BOOK DESCRIPTION

     a.)  Most people skim the content.

          1.) You’re also one of them (okay, including me)
          2.) This is where you need to write creatively
          3.) Use short paragraphs
          4.) Use short sentences like this.

     b.) Divide your content into three blocks

          1.)  Introduction (first two to three lines or really important. Tell them a story,
                make them scary, make them laugh, do anything but don’t make them bored.
               They must read your first two lines.

          2.) Middle of the content (this is where your actual MEAT of the content comes in)
          3.) Ending (end with either a surprise twist or question.)

II. HERE BE MONSTERS

   A.) It is the Old West once again.

   B.) Remember the Klondike Gold Madness (well not from actual memory, of course.)

   C.) Wild-eyed dreamers would race to Alaska where they would fall victim to prospectors
          selling fake maps to sure gold mines.

   D.) There are no GUARANTEED WAYS TO SUCCEED or 7 CERTAIN STEPS TO
          RICHES WITH YOUR EBOOK.

   E.) Once again, just write what you love, what fills your imagination with magic and delight.

LOST IN A SEA OF FACES

{Face in the Crowd by Alex Prager} 

If you've ever been crushed in a sea of strange faces in a new city, you will understand why photographers are drawn to crowd shots.

The above photograph, Face in the Crowd, is by the renowned photographer, Alex Prager whose work has been featured in The New York Times Magazine, Vogue and W Magazine. 

 Los Angeles photographer Alex Prager has taken it a step further in her documentation of crowds:

staging imaginary scenes seemingly influenced by a mix of Alfred Hitchcock suspense, the Technicolor style of William Eggleston and the costume design of Cindy Sherman.

"I’m fascinated by the experience of being involved in other people’s lives accidentally,” Prager said.

“Crowds have always been an interest of mine. It may look like a sea of people, but there are so many interesting stories, all colliding silently.”
http://news.yahoo.com/alex-prager-photographs--a-face-in-the-crowd-202522976.html

{Cover by the legendary Leonora Roy}

 

Ms. Prager's words echoed my own sentiments in my novel, DEATH IN THE HOUSE OF LIFE. 

 

As Ada Byron Lovelace lay dying in 1852, Samuel McCord entered her life. 

Cut off from her "corrupting" friends by her mother and abandoned by her husband after a tearful confession,

Ada clung to the compassionate Texas Ranger who came to her bedside for help with a fateful riddle.

 

It took her to Egypt, against her mother's wishes, for one last adventure -- an adventure which transformed her death into unlife.

 

Now, in 1895, she is back with Samuel McCord in Egypt for another perilous adventure.  Why does she still cling to Samuel though he is married and she is in a loving relationship with another?

 

We wander into each others' lives by accident -- or they into ours.  Some lives cling to us or we to them by mutual interests or needs.

 

But years and events winnow those from our past down one by one.  When you have no one left from a cherished time, it is as if it never really happened.

 

Samuel is the last person left from the time Ada still drew breath. 

 

To lose him would be as if she herself were in danger of disappearing. 

Samuel was shaped by the same times as her.  He understands her jests, her way of looking at life.  He is her touchstone to sanity.

 

In DEATH IN THE HOUSE OF LIFE, lives, both alien and earth-born, collide in a tale of conflicting obsessions, needs, and dreams.  Not all survive the collision.