I have began to believe the hype in recent months that I was told, “You are a talentless, nobody.”
The subject came up in the rejection I got from a very bad contest I entered. The review nearly destroyed any hope I had for writing career.
Okay so maybe I am not a multi published author, and maybe I never will be. But I am not a talentless nobody. I have worked hard at my craft, learning, studying and be told that my ideas have no merit.
Well excuse me, but that’s saying the sun has no heat, the rain isn’t wet.
I have feelings, I know that my ideas have merit even if the judge doesn’t.
I believe in myself. I don’t need a judge to tell me that. That judge is the no talent nobody, who can’t write and is a jealous harlot who wouldn’t know talent if it bit her. You see I know who the judge was and before the year is over they will be on the receiving end of my wrath.
From the future story by Gwyn Weyant
Sometime ago I wrote a story that wasn’t worth a fig. The only thing I kept out of it was a female character. Who was so insane that I wrote five thousand words on her just to get her out of my mind.
There is only one problem. She is still lurking in the forbidden recesses of my mind.
Because she hides in those dark areas, she has managed to kill her ex boyfriend, and her best friend, her adoptive mother, her real mother and her biological sperm donor father, her sister and a slum lord. Oh yes there was a pimp, a truck driver, and a hateful old lady that she swears she didn’t kill. But she is in love with the woman’s nephew.
Now the nephew (a cop) has her locked away so she can’t kill again.
She is locked away behind four locked doors.( and that’s just to get to the main floor of the house.) All the doors lock by remote and when the final lock is in place. It completes a circuit of electricity that electrifies all the windows of the house.
Now to finish this book. I had to decide whether I wanted it nice and neat or gory. (hence the last post on chosen murder methods)
Well the verdict is still out on that but one thing is for sure.
This woman’s brain is fried by the end of the book. Will she continue to live with the millionaire or will he succeed in keeping her from the world.
Red Haze is still under construction but one thing is for sure she has become more interesting since the last revision.
As a writer we all plot our stories. Whether it be on paper, computer, or the back of a napkin at a diner while having coffee.
My husband helped go over a semi wreck in the dust on a 53′ box van that he was using for work.
What would you use to do a murder. Would it be a nice clean murder, freeze the body and cut it up before it thawed no muss, no fuss.
Or would you be the more bloody type cave the jokers head in with a ten pounds sledge hammer or splitting mull.
Neat as in arsenic or mercury poisoning.
Or thoroughly demented with the piano wire wrapped around the neck, and if the didn’t quite do the job, a machete through the chest.
Knitting needles through the eyes or double 00 buckshot at close range.
The real question is do you want a gory bloody mess or never be found out, knowing you have committed the perfect murder.
Me I don’t know I see advantages to neat and clean but to write a character that is so completely insane that she stands there dripping in her victims blood, or screaming as they lock her away in the cell in the state Hospital for the criminally insane. Hmm fodder for a new story. As she laughs maniacally.
So you have the every day job, that drives you nuts. The coworker that seems to be the boss’s favorite. You got passed up for the job because of a glitch in the system. No small relief when that employee didn’t get it either.
The kids come in with a ton of homework and complaining about teachers.
The house is covered in mud and dust the youngest is a class act mud pie maker. The dust is because you haven’t been in the house for the biggest part of two weeks except for meals.
Laundry is stacked to the ceiling because the repairman didn’t show for the washer.
You are ready to scream when you burn the best taco casserole ever.
Hubby comes in with news of a new job cause his company is shutting down. But he will go in at a higher wage and a company car.
You fight getting the kids through homework, baths and for your teenage daughter the drama of her first boyfriend.
By the end of the week. Things are beginning to fall in place. Laundry is done hubby went and bought you a new machine. The job came through for him.
The kids are scrubbed and daughter has moved on to something reasonable horses again.
You sit down to a shoulder rub and a glass of wine. And a phone call that tells you the coworker that gave you fits walked out with the copy machine repair man.
Hubby puts his arm around you gives you a kiss as the kids yell yes that you are the greatest parents ever because vacation is Disneyland.
Such is the daily mundane tasks.
I sit and wonder through the hills and valley’s of my mind and rarely make any progress as to what I am thinking about.
In the last couple of days I am continually thinking about sunsets. Why, if anyone can tell me why I’ll be glad to listen. Then I decided it maybe due to the fractured mess of the past ten days.
Sunsets can be absolutely beautiful they can be bright and sunny leaving you thinking of bright romantic evenings.
Then there are bright orange and reds that can feel happy like clowns have decorated the sky.
The deep grays that drift into the blues of midnights with the sudden burst of
light that streaks down to the ground with a force that lights up the entire sky.
The clouds that are white and fluffy from one side and dark and foreboding as the wind gathers strength. The first huge drop of rain that gathers several of its kind together and falls to the fields below giving a nourishing drink to the earth below. Only to blow itself out and letting the sky lighten so evening can fall with a coolness that we all enjoy with a sweetness from flowers, hay and grass that’s been mown.
Sunsets are amazing works of arts. That is why they are painted so often they let your mind wonder into a world that might make you go a wandering.
(Okay so it was a bad pun. Got one better please share.)
I sat talking To a young friend. Who has known both my husband and myself for over twenty years.. He told me that he had decided not to get married ever.
I asked home why he had come to that decision. He said, “his parents did nothing but fight before their divorce and it seemed like all you and Uncle; do is fight.”
“Sam, you can not base your decision on my marriage.”
“Because my first marriage ended because of violence, and control issues that left me unable to completely give my heart to my husband. It makes me question everything he tries to tell me. And my husband had lots of issues with trust. His ex-wife played mind games and lied when the truth would have done more good.”
“Granted we fight but we still love each other. We have both grown changed and learned from each other. I love him more today than I did 27 years ago. I have learned that now is now and past is past.”
“You can argue to clear the air between you but if you keep it in mind that you are a team that works toward a goal and not play a game of tug of war with each others emotions. You can have a good marriage.”
I don’t know if I made any great strides in making a young man change his mind on marriage but I gave him something to think about.
They talk about Memorial Day. But very few know what that means. Memorial day is known as race day in Indianapolis, for the Car race.
Memorial day was to give respect and honor for those who gave their lives in battle. Federally Recognized in 1911. But it honors all wars going back to the Civil war, World War one and two, Korea, Vietnam, Desert Storm, and our current military wars in Afgahastan and middle East.
In my book it doesn’t matter whether you believed in why we were involved but it does matter that we give our Military men and women the acknowledgement they deserve for being and protecting us. So without further ado. I am listing the few personal people that I know that is past and present.
Norman F. Qualkinbush, John Hicks, Jack Qualkinbush, Ross Qualkinbush all the men from the Hicks that have served . this includes Cheryl’s son, Janice and Ron Payne’s, and any of the others I know that have served.
All my uncles Clair smith, Carl Owen, Robert Durham, Donald McBride, Frank McBride, to the cousins that have served.
Bob Davis, Kitti Sweeney, Don and Bob Record, Charlie Bain, Holt Burton,and Holt Buford Weyant, all of the Weyant nieces, nephews, Danny Weyant, to the in going family members. Billy Brandon’s daughter Tiffany, Robert Luther Fodge, Robert Lynn Fodge.
Joe Schmaltz, Doug Wagner.
I know there is at least two dozen more that I can’t think of. Patty Fodge’s brother for one. Plus all the classmates that have served our country. So any one I may have missed Thank You, I hope that this feeble attempt pays tribute to the people that have given so much to keep this country free.