About Me

Monday, February 19, 2018

Just Remembering

Image result for image of Oahu’s Punchbowl

Not really certain why these memories are haunting me today. Perhaps it's being Presidents' Day or because of the emotional turmoil this latest shooting has created among our country's citizenry.

It was my first Christmas with my Coast Guard husband after his transfer to Honolulu before our son was born. We chose that day to visit Punchbowl, the National Military Cemetery of The Pacific. Established in  a crater that was formed some 75,000 to 100,000 years ago, the governor of Hawaii offered the Punchbowl for a national cemetery in 1943.  In February 1948, Congress approved funding and construction began. It was officially dedicated on September 2, 1949, the 4th anniversary of V-J Day. 

 As we stood on the viewing platform, looking down at the rows of crosses, I could hardly believe this sunny day with a warm breeze disturbing my hair was December 25th. I found the experience to be a very moving as I realized how many gave their lives so I could stand in that spot.
Image result for Normandy military cemetery

An equally moving experience happened twenty-odd years later when my family spent a day at the Normandy coastline at Omaha Beach American Cemetery & Memorial in Colleville-sur-Mer. The first American cemetery on European soil,  France granted the United States a special, perpetual concession to the land occupied by the cemetery, free of any charge or any tax. Overlooking Omaha Beach, the memorial consists of a semicircular colonnade with a loggia at each end containing maps and narratives of the military operations.

I cannot describe my stirred emotions as I walked the sands that had absorbed the blood of so many of America's finest.

Perhaps I'm just sensing that we, the people, need to look back to see how we've drifted from that era of sacrifice for others and unity of country.

Wednesday, February 7, 2018

A Rainy Day...

Image result for a rainy day
Why does a rainy day bring on the urge to write? Sitting at my computer, the falling rain is a curtain  shutting away the outside world. Cozy in my cocoon, the cacophony of life beyond my ken can not assaulted me. Instead, I'm free to browse the expansive world of thought and imagination.

Non-writers may not be aware that we scribblers don't confine our working time to those periods we plant ourselves before a computer or at a desk, pen and paper at hand. Just as much time is spend in exploring the world our characters live in and mentally observing their behavior and interactions with others. These fictional characters acquire substance and reality as they reveal their quirks to us, the better to relate the story they insist must be written.

The imagination is a marvelous gift. My first attempts at writing for public view were restricted to informational articles. I was convinced I didn't have the imagination to create fictional stories. With a dozen or more purely fictional novels to my credit, that fallacy has been proven wrong.

It took a creative writing course with an inspired teacher at Kilgore College to remove the wall I had erected to writing fiction. Since then, I've consumed many books written by others generous in their desire to share their knowledge in my quest to grow in my craft. Close to thirty years later, I am still learning. 

Friday, February 2, 2018

A Habit's Been Formed

Only two days and I miss that daily act of writing a blog. Strange how easily some habits form...or perhaps not really strange.

I hadn't really planned to write again so soon but can't fight the urge. So, perhaps this is a good time to tell everyone about my latest publication. Actually, it's a re-release of a book that came out ten years ago...Living With A Depressed Spouse. (https://www.amazon.com/Living-Depressed-Spouse-Gay-Ingram-ebook/dp/B07939QHKC/ref=asap_bc?ie=UTF8)

At the moment, it's only available in E-book form. We're working on the print copy that should come out shortly, depending on how long it takes Amazon to complete the process.

As you may guess from the title, this was a difficult book to write and not one I would have chosen to write. Without going into long details. I'll just say God used a stranger to let me know the book had to be written. I have to add, if it were not for my journaling during that period all this happened, there is no way I could have remembered the details.

For those readers who live in the vicinity, I'll be at Uncle Mike's, an Italian restaurant, in Big Sandy this morning with my books. Come by, say hi, and enjoy some tasty food. It's not hard to find. Big Sandy has one red light at the intersection of SH 80 and SH 155. Mike's is there, at the intersection.

Hope to see some friendly faces.