Here's a Thought: Be Considerate.

 Do what you say you will do. If I had to choose a mantra it would be one that I borrow from Jesus, it would be, "Let your yes be yes, and your no be no."  It's really simple people; if you can't keep your promise to call someone back, or respond to an email, just text them really quick and say so. Just be the person for them that you would appreciate if the tables were turned. I'm only saying this because I am forever and a day being the one who has to either "take the high road" or "be patient" with others who just can't get it through their heads that being on time, doing what you're supposed to do, saying what is appropriate to say, and you know, DOING YOUR JOB the way it was intended...is the right thing to do. EVERY TIME, not just whenever it suits you. 

    For so many generations below that of the one I was born in, being on time seems to be a guideline rather than a requirement. The clocks don't stop just because a person isn't utilizing their time in the best way possible. I have a friend, no wait, I have three friends who just can't seem to be where they are supposed to be at the time agreed because they get distracted or allow themselves to be distracted by the simplest of things. I say it all the time, if I'm late, call the police. I am most likely dead. I think I could count on one hand how many times in my adult life that I have been late for whatever it was that I'm supposed to be doing. One hand in over 40 years. We are all given the very same 24 hours in a day. CHANGE your habits if it is in fact your habits that are causing you to be chronically late. Don't say 8:00 a.m. if you mean 8:20 a.m. It's both rude and inconsiderate. There, I said it....again.

    I accepted a position once where the boss would say "I'll call you right after this meeting" or "I'll call you right after lunch".  Several hours would pass before he got around to making the call. I would usually say something to the effect of "You know, I want your job Boss. You take five-hour lunches! Sign me up for that."  You know he wasn't trying to be negligent, but time just got away from him. HOLD ON TO TIME folks. Make it your bitch, you remain in control if you have half a hope of being the one who can be relied upon. He knew if I said I'll call you in 10 minutes that I'm calling in 9 minutes. Don't go to the bathroom at the last minute if you expect me to call because I will call you if I said I would. If I am going to be one freaking minute late I'll text to let you know it. 

    I have three children. One is like me.  Thank you, Reuben. He gets it. Laura will be late to her own whatever, she's never on time. When I watch or observe her and I point out where it was that she went sideways her answer is usually "Yeah, I didn't mean to do that." You may not MEAN to, but you do it over and over. It's a habit. It's just exactly what it is, and you do have control over it; one way or the other. You make choices to be who and what you will be. Caity, on the other hand, is predictable. She will be there at exactly the moment she said, not a minute early, but if you're a minute late she'll let you know. Laura is flexible on your time as well as her time, and Reuben and I have usually walked away after being stood up, but we remember it, and we remind you the next time that you left us hanging. 

    It's not only about time either. If you say you're going to pray for someone, pray for them. If you say you're going to take someone somewhere, do it. If you say you're going to support someone through this or that program, do that. If you can't make it, do it, or follow through, there may very well be a reason, but be considerate folks, and let the other person(s) know before it becomes a problem -- when you can. A great deal of people will literally pay $$$$ to life coaches who say the same things I'm saying right now. You have a choice and how you approach that choice-making is again another choice. YOU can be the person you need to be if YOU make a decision to be the person YOU are supposed to be. I can't do that for you. I won't charge you anything for this lesson; it's a gimme.

    One more thing before I go. If you have kids start them out young, very very young in fact, teaching them that gratitude is of utmost importance as well as being considerate. Tolerance is good, but so is standing your ground. It's OK to make a point and allow others to make theirs. We don't have to agree with each other, but respecting each other is paramount. OK....I'm done. If you feel the need to share this post or the context of it, please do. More people need to be made aware that being considerate is a good thing. It's a REALLY good thing.

Photo Credit: www.1-800-4clocks.com  

Chapters 19 & 20 Are Completed (Round 1)

 So, by now, if you're reading the blogs you can see that I'm cranking out about a chapter (and sometimes two) a day. I've decided to do that for the next 12 months actually, as I have a few books I need to crank out -- as it were. I have two blog books to put together, they've been "written" but I need to canonize them, format them, and just get them in the queue so they can be published. I have the Murder Book, 1211, the second Murder Book, the second Highland Romance, then there's a book I've been wanting to write for more than 30 years actually, that will be put together in the middle somewhere. It's a book about families and generations of families and their changes, challenges, differences, and traditions. It's a Hallmark movie if ever there was one.

    This book, the first Highland Romance book, which I'm calling a Highland Historical Romance due to the fact that I have facts in the book and not just undressed handsome men holding their kilts at arm's length, I have now finished writing chapters 19 and 20.  There is actually substance in this book!  It's not just a bunch of bodies rolling around in the heather while making eye contact and funny noises. Nope, there's actually quite a little tidy little plot to follow. You may even like it. I'm hoping you like it. I love it. I've been having a blast writing it. Today, Aria (my heroine) finds herself blaming herself for having said words that later became prophetic, and she's thinking her husband's demise may have been her fault because of it. She's not claiming the "Secret" or anything, but she's saying she put it out there. 

    Tomorrow, I'll have the families leave Edinburgh and trek back to Glasgow and/or the moors surrounding it, but we'll also say goodbye to Michael Givens and his wife Jedelle who are planning a magnificent theatrical experience for the folks of Edinburgh in the very near future. It's absolutely sure to be a show-stopper and possibly considered illegal as well. What will the neighbors say?  I need to find a way to add colors, flavors, tastes, and other sensory events such as hearing bells, dogs barking, and owls hooting...I do that sort of thing during the next step. What are the next steps? Well, first I have to finish the book which is going to happen in about a week. There will be 28 chapters I think.

    After I finish the book I save each chapter right after the other into one file and "canonize" the book by doing so. Right now there are individual chapters in a file all by themselves. I need to put them into one file and format the canonized book into a larger font with much more space between the lines so I can take notes. I use a real pen to do that. Then I have to separate the dialogue so that the quoted statements take their correct positions, that's fun to do, I have to go back over what the characters said to each other, verify it, change the spellings if I want them to have specific accents when they speak, and say things like "she answered" rather than "she said" because I don't want to repeat myself too often. That's boring. I use a thesaurus anyway, but during the correction stage, I really use it. I question myself over and over again if I should use another set of words; I usually do.

    After I do all of that, I go back over it, fluff it full of more facts, remove things, push things around, change entire paragraphs, and I may even delete events that I think sound redundant or silly. I'm not above a rewrite. I can rewrite it. I do that. My people could start out with one name on the working pages and suddenly before it's published I've found and replaced every instance from that name with a new name. I tweak and then I tweak again. This should take another week to complete. By the end of the process, I am ready to pay an editor to look it over and not listen to a DAMN thing they suggest. I'm hard on myself like that, thinking I should have been able to figure it out so I do. 

    Fun times again tomorrow.  Fun times for the next two weeks. I think the book should be ready to send to the printers by March 1. That's the goal. We'll see. Oh, and I think I am going to keep the title "Of Kilted Pleasure".  I like it.

Photo Credit: Pinterest.com

Just Because I'm a Southern Woman Don't Underestimate Me.

 There's a t-shirt or sweatshirt out there that reads rather sassy-ly "Go ahead, underestimate me, that'll be fun"  and really yeah, that about covers it. I could end the blog right now if I needed to.

    I had the pleasure of explaining Southern women to a man today who I met at the bank. He was, I assume, rather taken back that a woman (especially one from the South) could walk into a banking institution and walk directly to the loan officers to discuss the various means of purchasing, not financing, but purchasing a property that may be owned by a bank in this country.  The property I was (yes, I was that woman he so mistakenly decided to underestimate) referring to is actually situated in Scotland. I was made aware that the property is owned by a member of the bank where I do business.  My thought was that perhaps I could talk to the owner of the house and land to sell it to the bank and then I could buy it from the bank making it an American transaction rather than an international one. See how things can be better thought out when you actually think outside those boxes everyone is so hastened to stick us into these days?

    The man asked me to my face after he saw me walk into the bank and go directly to a loan officer that I knew if I had always been so bold. The answer was obvious, but I decided to give him a nod and answer in the affirmative. The woman I spoke with knew me well enough to know I didn't walk into the bank this morning to schedule an appointment with her for a delayed conversation. I explained that based on the first meeting I would then schedule a time to meet that would be satisfactory to us both. As it turns out the gentleman who had apparently walked into the bank and made his request known to the tellers that he would like a conference with a loan officer at the earliest convenience, before taking his seat to wait, was in fact from the United Kingdom himself.  When I walked in and simply walked into the threshold of the woman he was probably waiting to see, he gave me the attention he did through his cordial and thoughtful mannerism, but you know the man was probably thinking I was not only cheeky but perhaps unorthodox or rude as well.  Well, he has a lot to learn about Southern women!

    "Well Sir," I started, "It's like this.  I have an issue to discuss so rather than come into the bank and tell the tellers that I have an issue to discuss with Karrie, the loan officer I've known for 11 years, I just walked up to let her know what I wanted and when she checked her schedule we made the arrangement for me to come back tomorrow to go over the details." That's when I asked him if this was his first trip to the States and if so if it was his first trip to Oklahoma or any other Southern state. He answered also, in the affirmative to both questions. He was traveling through the normal routes from Florida to California and made a pit stop in our fair state to make a currency exchange.  Currency exchange, really? I asked him if he had checked the Forex market today to be sure he was receiving the most for his pound notes to which he stared blankly at me and said no, he had no idea he could do that. Yes, you can.

    For the next few minutes as Karrie was going over a few more things before coming out to greet Mr. L____ from just south of the Scottish/English border town of Berwick on Tweed, I explained that women in the South are quite friendly, very direct, they say what they mean, they mean what they say, and we hope that our requests can be met with attention to detail as we don't have time to go back over the matter several times. We strongly encourage people to listen to us the first time we say something. If in fact a man, usually a man, ever hears a Southern woman say the words "Bless your heart" when he's asked her the repeat something, he may want to at least take a couple of steps back from her to put more distance between the two of them. If she's a mother, she's likely to throw a shoe at him in the next few seconds. Truth. (Oh, and we say "hon", "sugar" and "baby" a lot too)

    This revelation was met with a plethora of questions from the man. First, he wanted to thank me for taking the time to explain in simple terms the various truths and/or myth busters regarding the stereotypical image of what the men (and maybe the women too) in the UK think of American women from the Southern states. He was one, in fact, to not include Oklahoma as being one of these states to which he met my blank silent stare. He understood. He asked me if I owned a horse. I said yes. He laughed. He asked me if I owned a gun. I answered that I did and that I was better at shooting the rifle, but it won't fit too snuggly in the drawer of the nightstand.  He asked me if I was educated past that the typical secondary level and my answer was "Sir, you're speaking to Dr. Jude Stringfellow if that helps you out a little". He again thought this to be an anomaly, to which I assured him it was not.  He finally, after a few more normal questions about what Southerners eat, and what type of music we listen to, wanted to know if I attended church on a regular basis. I informed the man that I was born on Wednesday and in church on Sunday, and that my upbringing was that of a very strict Southern Baptist attendee, however, over the years I have been attending the Superior Word online. (Then I explained that Charlie Garrett is one of the best Bible-teaching pastors out there.) 

    Suffice it to say that the man was impressed with the fact that he had met not only one but several Southern women this morning. He was in the bank surrounded by four workers who were all women of this great state, and myself. He told me that when he calls his wife in a few hours to send her and the kids off to sleep, he'll tell her all about our meeting. He then stepped foot into Karrie's office and they closed the door to talk money. I hope Karrie won't be too upset with me for giving him the heads up on checking the Forex before accepting an exchange. Banks like to make their money on the backs of those who don't know you can do that. It's a game, but it's one you can be a part of.  

    Not all Southern women hoot and holler in public; some do. Not all of us can cook like our great grammies did, but some do. We're a mix of brilliant, bright, baffled, and beloved gals who mostly find solace in family and friends. I'd say for the most part also we're pretty keen on being pretty keen. We can dress up or down rather quickly, and we can hold our own toe-to-toe.  Most of us still wear our pointed boots, so that could mean something right there. If you're lucky enough to be with a genteel honest gal from one of the Southern states, you might need to keep your manners up front and your mischief to the rear of the bus inside your head. Know that we love Jesus and we're not afraid to act just like Him. In other words, we've been known to throw a table or two and pull out the whips when we feel the need. We could also end up dying for you if we love you enough. 

God bless the Southern women of the United States of America. Here's to you!

Photo Credit: Pinterest.com

Robbie Burns Day 2023

 When I posted "Happy Burns Day" on my Facebook today I had a friend from the USA comment in a private message asking me if I was a secret arsonist; and if I was, why would I be advertising it so blazenly (see what I did there, blazenly) across the wall of social media. Ha! It made me laugh.  No, I'm not a pyro. I'm celebrating the life and writings of one of the most gifted writers from my beloved Scotland. Robbie Burns was born poor enough, and without what some would say a chance in hell to become as well known and loved as he has; perhaps posthumously.  His poetry cuts to the core of his own love for Scotland, the land, the people, and the traditions. He knew love, and he lost it. He knew what it meant to work hard, to dream big, and to keep the dream in your mind at all times.

    Today, on this January 25, 2023, I am relaxing at home while listening to fantastic music from two of my very favorite artists, both performing Celtic music, but neither of which is actually from Scotland. I am listening to the South Carolina-based band SYR and to Los Angeles' son composer Alan Williams. If you haven't heard of these groups/people you have some listening to do. I will leave links to both of their respective sites at the end of the blog.

    Traditionally on Robbie Burns's day, I suppose those who are living in Scotland will read some of his poetry, they will shop, have the day to relax with family and friends, and they will typically eat a meal of haggis and tatties. Perhaps haggis and tatties were a favorite of Burns, I don't know. It's easily researched I'm sure. I'll add a link about Mr. Burns at the end of the blog as well so you can read his work. Now, I will say this, that most of if not all of Robbie Burns's work was written in the traditional Scots language, which is NOT typical English. It is not that easy to translate if you're unfamiliar with the language. Even giving you a site to translate words would be daunting as most of the words written are in his native tongue. I've been studying Scots for about three years and it's still quite difficult for me to get through an entire poem without using my Chambers Concise Scots Dictionary! I love it though. I really do. I live to study.

    I'll give you an example: 

‘The Banks o’ Doon’.

"Ye banks and braes o’ bonie Doon,
How can ye bloom sae fresh and fair?
How can ye chant, ye little birds,
And I sae weary fu’ o’ care!
Thou’ll break my heart, thou warbling bird,
That wantons thro’ the flowering thorn:
Thou minds me o’ departed joys,
Departed never to return …" (Robbie Burns)

    (the word "brae" is the word for "wide." The word "sae" is the word "so" and the word "fu'" is the word "full")

This one is an easy one. It's short and precise indeed.  He loves the rivers and the birds that he sees along the Doon and he is sad that they come and go, reminding him of times that come and go never to return. Burns had a beautiful affection for a woman who passed far too young, probably of fever or consumption. He only lived to be 37 years old himself.  Tragic really. He was so talented and the world could use a few more like him.

    Well, that's me, that's what I'm doing today at this moment, and in an hour or so I will continue my own writing; and yes, I'll add Burns and one of his poems to my book so that he will be and can be celebrated at every chance given.  Have a blessed day and mind the wild haggis as they seem to know it's a hunting day. You canna catch one any sooner than the day you kill, clean, and dress one for dinner. They can be nasty little boogers.

Robbie Burns: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Robert_Burns

Poems by Burns: https://interestingliterature.com/2015/12/10-robert-burns-poems-everyone-should-read/

Alan Williams: https://alanwilliams.com/

Syr Music: https://syrmusic.com/

Photo Credit: Penbaypilot.com (Robert "Robbie" Burns 1759-1796)

Chapters 17 and 18 are WRITTEN!!

 Woot!!  This is too cool.  I have written more than half of the book at this point. I am well into the second act (if this was a play).  I had so much fun writing these two chapters because they had very little to do with the main story of the book, and they were strictly written for intel and filler but at the same time I was allowed to create really intricate characters who may never be seen again and who may never be discussed again, but they are people too. They had real things happen to them, they experienced life and the bad as well as the good. They held their own, and they are more than just a name with a couple of dates scratched into a tombstone. Actually, these people haven't actually died, but sometimes a gravestone is the only narration that a life has. We have a name. We know they lived because they were born in one year and they died in another year. If they are babies and they die within the same year, they may not even have a name. I wanted a few people in the book to be seen as more than just blips of ink describing them as they walked on either side of High Street.

    So, the best part about writing is that I get the opportunity to go inside my own head and create names, lives, events, situations, circumstances, and so forth. If I want to the character can be arrested for something he or she never did. I can have a complete injustice occur. I can hang a man (or woman) on the testimony or a single statement made in the heat of the moment. I can undo every good deed ever attributed to a person with just one single lie told about them. I can also right a wrong. I can bring the entire weight of the law upon the guilty, and if things get really crazy, I can bring the French to assist the Jacobites on that fateful spring afternoon in the Highlands.  After reading what I've read and knowing what I know, I am so torn as to which side of that battle I would have been on if I'm honest.  I am 100% for Scottish independence today, but I really think it's about 200 years late for the most part. In my opinion, and I admit I don't know enough to be accepted as an expert by any means, I think Scotland could have sustained itself in the 18th century to become its own kingdom separate from that of England or Ireland.

    The book is not about Scottish independence, however. It is about the lives of the folks that were in and around the western Highland and the lowlands around Edinburgh. I don't know if I'll trek through the Borders or not, but they are mentioned a couple of times, as the Stringfellow family (my own family) was closely related to and aligned (unfortunately) with that of the Armstrongs, who were border reveries and in more blunt terms, murderers and thieves. I can't take responsibility for any of the things they may have done in the past, but I can give at least one familial relation a good reputation in the book. I'll talk about Penny Stringfellow, a little 11-year-old girl who is a direct relative of Sir Robert Stringfellow who left the area about 70 years beforehand to forge for himself and his family a new life in Virginia.  Penny will be in the next chapter, chapter 19. She'll meet with Aria and sing a little hymn for her while discussing the benefits of repentance. Penny explains that she's not ashamed to be a Stringfellow even though they are kin with and friends of the Armstrong marauders. She knows her own family is precious unto God and that new life starts fresh if you give it that chance to do so.

    Writing can be therapeutic if you let it be. Who says you can't cast out your very soul onto the pages to be produced under the guise of being entertainment? It can happen. In 1657, three years before leaving the lowlands of Scotland and boarding a vessel for the new world, the son of Sir Robert Stringfellow, my 11th great grandfather James Stringfellow, married a Miss Margaret Campbell of Dumbarton; they had a baby girl in Edinburgh the following year, and she and her parents, grandparents, uncles, aunts and most of her cousins set sail when Charles II was crowned in 1660 so as not to have to make concessions for their past. One or two of the cousins remained, and mostly they left Scotland for Yorkshire England and they became farmers and administrators of various councils. One man, John Stringfellow, in 1848, discovered heavier-than-air flight long before the Wright Brothers did. Go look it up. Oh, OK, I'll leave a link here. https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/John_Stringfellow

    Fantasy is fun, and so is reality. History can be both eye-opening and devastating. It can be challenging or rewarding. It can send us to any number of places and through many emotions as we put the puzzle pieces together trying to figure out where we came from, so we can figure out where we're going.  I am happy to be who and where I am, but I think I'd be just as happy if I were born of the few Stringfellows who had remained in their native land of Scotland. I wouldn't have wanted to be associated with the Armstrongs, not if I know what I know now, but I would have wanted to be a part of building churches and congregations, bringing people to the saving Grace of Christ. Maybe that's why I write, so I can have a foothold on creating an interest that some may have to find their way eternally safe.

John Stringfellow, a distant uncle or cousin, not directly in line with my father, but if you saw my Daddy's face, you could see the family resemblance. 

Photo Credit: Wikipedia.com

Chapter 15 is Fixed

 That is so not the truth. Why did I lie like that? The 15th Chapter of my book is merely written, it is not FIXED.  It won't be complete until I can canonize the book and go through it page by page. I will FIX it at that time. It is now written. I even used the thesaurus to find a word for "done" and yeah, I got "fixed". I can't say it's incomplete because then my readers and followers are thinking it's not finished so why would I go on to write further chapters if I'm just leaving 15 out to dry? I'm not. It's done, but it's not fully done. None of them are. I find myself realizing (in the middle of the night) that I have said something I didn't need to say, or I should have said, or what needs to be added to in order to make more sense. It's so hard to just step away from the keyboard. I write each chapter from start to end and when it seems like a good place to stop it I stop.  

    The way I write I want each chapter to be able to stand on its own and leave a little to the imagination but also conduct itself in such a manner that if a reader picks up the book and can only spare enough time to read a few chapters, they won't be disappointed with the amount read. I want them of course, to want to continue the storyline, but if bedtime calls or a kid needs attention, the reader can put the book down (or Kindle) and pick it up without feeling they missed out on too much. I like that style rather than cliffhanging all the time. 

    As usual, the disposal of the body is far more important to me than the actual killing of it. In this case, the body would be found eventually, and it would be honored as being made to lay beneath the stacking of stones into a cairn.  Cairns is what I call the ancient equivalent to the game Jenga, but using actual rocks and stones vs. the wooden small rectangles with the word "JENGA" stamped on each. There were no advertisements on these cairns they were in fact their own form of advertising, as they were often used to mark boundaries between places.  Think about the signs you see when you enter a different city or state. "You are leaving Bethany" is what one would say on the one side of the sign while the other sign might read "You are entering Warr Acres".  Cairns stand in places that have for hundreds or even thousands of years have passed with locals knowing what they stood for; what they represented. This one, the one piled high over the body of James MacFarlane is a boundary marker of sorts, telling those who would come from far or near that they chance meeting with dangerous faun and fae should they proceed! Warning! Go Away!! Nothing to see here.

    Aria and Ewan will meet up again in this chapter and take their fruits and wares through the cities between the Clyde and the Castle, and they'll sell things, buy things, talk things out, and no one is the wiser who may see them. No one knows the truth except those few in their party and believe me, those lips are sealed. Even the lips of the three mongrel dogs who accompany them. Merlin and Neville belong to the Broonfords, while Ginger belongs to Ewan. No cats will make the trip to the bigger cities. You can't really trust a cat to keep your secrets anyway. The horses yes, they never tell a word, but the cats can be bribed. So fickle.

    With Chapter 15 written, and the day being early, I'll crank out Chapter 16 for sure, and maybe have time in the day left to write Chapter 17 too. I won't start a chapter without finishing it. I don't write half of a chapter and come back to it. I'll stay up all night if I have to, but yeah, it will be finished if I start it. That's just who I am. Then again, it won't finished finished until I go through it and do more to it. So yeah, there's that too. Fun times!

Photo Credit: Purrfectcatbreeds.com

Chapter 14: In the Bag.

 I wasn't really sure what I was going to do for this chapter, I knew it followed the last chapter, but in some chapters, there will be a bit of jumping around or even flashbacks used, so there was this question in my head as to whether I would leave the drama on the hill where it was and just sort of skip over the Glasgow artesian scene, or would it be prudent to continue the cover-up of the manslaughter (we can't say murder) of James MacFarlane. I decided to continue the links between the events on the hill and the coverup or the distraction we'll say....that's a good way to put it, the illusion! So, Chapter 14 is full of illusions. 

    I did manage to get my own dog into the book at this point. I remember years ago that Faith was called a Golden Retriever and I had to laugh. I mean sure, if you need to tell yourself that, but she was half Chow-Chow and part Labrador, Beagle, and apparently "other traces of dog" as was shown on her DNA test given to her at the Universal Studios in 2007 I think. It's been a minute. I don't remember all the details. Those tests are really not that accurate now, I can only imagine how vague they would have been in 2007. "Other traces of dog" has always been one of my favorite things to say about Faithy.  Of course, there were other traces of dog in her bloodline. Did anyone expect there to be other traces of another species? I don't think so.

    In Chapter 14 I have given Ginger a life within the book. She is now Ewan's dog and she will live with him for the next 12 years at least. He'll marry twice, and she will be at his side both times. She'll be an old gal when the book ends and if I know me I'll have her sitting by the fire warming herself while the masters of the house trip over themselves to bring her whatever she needs.  She is in the book, and I do call her Ginger, but she can't be the breed combination that actually is as there were very few Chinese or Mexican breeds in Scotland in the 1700s; that's where I laugh about Faith and the Golden Retriever mishap. Ginger is probably (no DNA testing) Chihuahua, Dachshund, and Pug...and of course, other traces of dog. She is a mongrel, a mutt, a mixed breed, my Pooh-Pooh as I often call her. She is a small brown terrier in the book, with snappy black eyes and a willingness to please. She's sharp-eyed and sharp-eared, sharp everything and she's genuinely the happiest dog on the planet.  There's no way I would write the book without her. I may put her in the Murder Book too. She could be a common thread. You just never know.

    As I write this now my dog is on my lap and watching me. She can't for the life of her understand why my hands are playing with the keyboard rather than scratching her, so I really think it may be time to go and take care of the Queen. Have a great evening. I don't think I'll get Chapter 15 done today, but I will get two chapters written tomorrow. I am sort of on a writing kick and ready to get this thing done so I can print it out, go over it, change it, add to it, take away from it, and think of other ways to make it pop!

Photo Credit: Me

1211 (It's coming)

 Yeah, I know what you're thinking..."Hey Jude, the year 1211 has already come and gone, and really, it wasn't all that exciting!"  That's exactly what I want you to think! Ha! You fell right into my trap, didn't you?  Here's the thing, after I finish writing the Highlander book, what some are calling the "Sex Book", I'll be writing The Murder Book, which in case you can't figure it out by the title, is actually a book about a book. There's a murder book out there and the detective hero finds it and tries to stop the next events.  After that book, which should be finished sometime in May, I'll be writing a book that I really really (no, really) should have written over 30 years ago, but with life and so many events taking place it got pushed back to the back of the bus for sure. That book, so you know, is titled "1211"; so when I talk about it I'll say "Twelve-Eleven" not One Thousand Two Hundred and Eleven. I thought I might need to clarify that part of it.

    The book will be based on truth and what I imagined to be true at the time I lived in the block apartment housing located in Oklahoma City at the address of 1211 N.W. 30th Street. The house is still standing and no, I have no intention of going into it now and disrupting the lives (possibly crack-house) and the events which are currently taking place within the confines of the structure. I will however, be discussing in vivid and lucid detail, the many antics and crazy things that happened to myself, my friend, my sister (who I will not include in the book), and to the other residents of the place. There are eight individual tiny 500 sq ft. flats inside the building, each with only one resident a piece with the exception of one. I won't go into detail about any of our lives, our occupations, or lack of occupations in some cases, nor will I discuss in blogs how often the authorities, not necessarily just the police, were called to the edifice. It was a few, and by a few I mean yeah, we weren't living all that quietly collectively. I won't discuss it in the blogs but you'll get the full monty on these and more subjects when the book is released. 

    To say the book will be a scream could very well give it away, and that's almost all I'm going to say about it. I will say that I will love every minute of every hour of every day that I'm creating that book because I will be bent over my desk laughing so hard at the antics and the goings on which actually took place (or did it?) that I won't be able to keep my coffee from spewing through my nose! It won't need to be a goal of mine to keep the audience pumped, the very start of the book will keep my readers bursting at their seems begging me to stop...they won't be able to take it. Imagine if you will, living it. I did. It will be one big fat "Welcome to my world" from me to any and all who care to strap themselves into the front seat with me as we go on the ride of a lifetime, cussing and cruising our way through some of the dumbest things young people can ever think to do just because they're out from under their parents' roofs, they have jobs, and can afford to be stupid.

    In some ways, I'm too excited about the Highland book and the Murder Book to blow through them, and then there's the knowing that as soon as the last drop of ink in my keyboard (there's really no ink here) hits the paper (screen) I'm outta here and we're going on that trip baby! We are on our way to 1981....in all its daftness and idiotic glory; Hollywood Nights and Oklahoma City mornings...will it be Marlboro Lights or beef jerky and instant coffee grounds that get us through the first road trip? You'll have to see. You'll have to wait. You and me both...damn it. 

You and me both. I hope the statutes of limitations have run out on all the crap I'm going to share; it would really suck to be arrested now for things I did when I wasn't clearly thinking.

Photo Credit: Flickr.com

Chapters 12 and 13 are WRITTEN!!!

 I think if I had to guess and put a number on it, that the average chapter is 2700-3000 words, which when you consider that a typical novel of the average size has about 280 words per page, then I have written about 13 x 2850 words, or 37050 words, or about 1/3 of the book.  If there are 280 words per page then at 37050 divided by 280 I have now, 132 pages written. WOOT!  I started writing this book last week about a week ago I think. I'll have to go back and see what day I finished Chapter 1. I was going to write one chapter a day, but for the past two days, I've written two chapters each day. This may or may not continue, but I'm really glad it has thus far because it means I can have the book finished sooner and in the hands of the publisher sooner. I've decided to go with Xlibris, a publisher I used way back in the day and have published three books in the past with. I wasn't really all that keen on them after the way they handled the last book I worked on with them, but time has changed their ways as well as mine. I believe this is a good thing. I have another five or six books that I'm planning on writing over the next 12 months. Whew!

    Chapters 12 and 13 deal with the death of James Fraser MacFarlane as well as the coming of age of Ewan, as he has to face some brutal treatment shown to him by his own kin and neighbors. He will survive this and other issues throughout the book, no worries there, but the real hero, or unknown hero, of Chapter 13 is none other than our own Antoin Broonford, who, though I can't say too much in terms of what he does to bring his character to the forefront of being a bit mischievous and quite handy, he will shine through the pages with bright and glorious colors. He will be loved for generations for his thoughtfulness and for his quick actions. 

    I'll leave it at that, it will be a shorter blog than most. I just wanted to let you know that the 13th and 12th chapters are finished. I'll be going over the entire book once I have it written so that I can pluck out what I hate, add to what I think needs t be added and blend things together so that they make more sense. Today when I was writing I realized that I had need to return to the book to correct a timeline problem. This is why God made editors. I'll need one for sure. Have a blessed weekend.

More to come for sure.

Photo Credit: reddit.com

James Fraser MacFarlane (of my book) IS DEAD!!

 My deepest and most sorrowful apologies go out to any and all men whose name is James Fraser MacFarlane, as today he has been driven to Hell by the swift actions of our hero Ewan Williams Hastings of Glenmore.  Dead! The man is in fact completely dead, without a doubt, he will not be returning in the form of the living in the book. He will be spoken of, he will be cursed, but he will not walk among the moors, and more importantly, he will not continue to beat and harm innocent people as was his tendency to do when they were not acting within the bounds of his required tyranny. Gone! Thank you, Ewan. I know it was a most difficult thing to bring yourself to do considering the harmful way you were treated in the past, but let it be said that courage is found when it is needed.  I think there are a few country and western songs about this type of courage, one of them being "The Coward of the County"; for the love of Becky, his girl, Tommy made things right.  They won't be calling Ewan a coward at this point.

    A few things need to take place in the glen and in surrounding areas before we can see the two love birds take flight in union. At this point, Ewan is but a lad, a full 10 or 11 years younger than Aria. There will be much life taking place between the next few chapters as we see Keely and Antoin come together in marriage, and we see Alina striking out and making some great strides in her art.  We'll no doubt mourn a little, laugh a little, wish a little, and think about the ramifications of ending a man's life on the glen just outside your home; unless of course, the fae finds him first! Oh...could that be foreshadowing folks? Oh!!

    I'll leave you be with the wonders and the thoughts about what could happen next. I, on the other hand, will be drawing up the next couple or three chapters in my mind and on paper so that I can strike the keyboard and bring them to life. I have scores of suggestions for words to use, phrases I found in the 200+-year-old books I'm reading that have been such an inspiration not only for their meanings and for what they can offer, but just the fact that I am loving the style of these men who wrote in the 19th century about things that happened in the 16th, 17th, and 18th centuries in and about the Borders of Scotland. You may see a phrase that I found interesting, but if I use it in its entirety I will give credit. Actually, now that I think about it, I can't do that as the book I'm writing takes place before the books I'm reading were written, but I can take the words, rewrite them, add more or take away from, and give them new wind by which to carry themselves through the pages of my novel.  Whether I say "the hues of the moon ebbed in mooted tenure", or if I say "the moon gave the stars permission to gaze upon her silvery complexion", I've said the same thing.  I love writing.

    Chapters 10 and 11 are around 2500 words each. I could end up putting them together as they do sort of go together, one does follow the other in terms of chronological order; it could happen. We'll see. Tomorrow's chapters will take us from Glasgow to Edinburgh, from Edinburgh back to Glasgow, with a stop off in Bathgate to buy a few bars of soap, and yes, I'll explain the making of the bars so that you can have an idea of what it was like in the 18th century to make soap products. I make them now, and believe me, it's so much easier I'm sure.  When I think about the stamina and moxy of our ancestors, no matter where we all came from, we have a great debt of gratitude to give to each of them. They were TOUGH people in so many ways. Here we are complaining about things that would cause many of our great-greats to slap us right across the face, and they would have the right to do so. I may even thank them if I saw that.

Photo Credit: Photoeverywhere.co.uk

Hint: James Fraser MacFarlane was killed next to the ruins.