New blog address

Please join me at my new blog address: http://www.meriannboxall.com.  I look forward to seeing you there!

First Guest Post

I contributed to my first blog, other than my own the other day.  The post is located at:

http://hebervalleywriters.wordpress.com/2014/01/10/more-than-a-book/

Go check out this blog and all of the great writers!

More Than A Book

                When an author says, “Hey, buy my book!” What they are really saying is, “Hey, please support me so I can keep doing what I love!”  After all, what you are buying is more than just a book.  Yes, you will take it home and read it, and it may be only that to you, but to the author you support through your purchase, it is so much more.

Authors are artists in their own way.  Just as paint is carefully placed onto a piece of stretched canvas, each word that an author places into their story, represents something to them.  Words placed in such a way, to make everything make sense, to make magic.  Countless hours are consumed in crafting of the perfect story, representing something beautiful they see in their own mind.

So when you purchase their book, their art, you are not just purchasing a group of pages to be placed on a shelf, you are purchasing their time.  You are buying their energy, their joy and all of the sacrifice that went into creating that story.  You are buying an opportunity for them to continue to do something that they love.

Next time an author says, “Hey, buy my book!”  Show them you support them, and believe in them and that most of all, you want to see their joy.

                For those of you who don’t read, buy the book anyway, it would be unfortunate if all of the trees surrendered for the writing of a novel had sacrificed their lives for nothing.  If you don’t do it for the art of it, buy books for the Trees!

A Quarter and a Penny in my Pocket

In the past three years, I don’t think I have passed a fountain without being asked if I had any money we could toss in for a wish, equally, I am pretty sure not a single gumball machine hasn’t been coveted by small eyes.  When possible, we stop for a wish and a bubble, often we are just too busy or I don’t have the required tokens.

I am trying to embrace life, knowing that time is so short, and it is still Ja”nu”ary.  I am also trying to improve my posture (or at least my overall well being) by reducing some of the stress and tension I carry in my shoulders about life.  I can’t think of a better way than throwing pennies in a fountain and blowing then popping bubble gum with my sidekicks. Going forward, I will always carry in my pocket a penny and a quarter.  The touch will remind me to embrace life and just breathe!  I will always be ready for the next stipend that a wishing well requires, full of hope, patience, and just a little more calm.

21 Steps-Chapter 1

The very first manuscript that I finished, I titled, 21 Steps.  It needs work, and I like to think that I have come a very long way.

Update: After planning to share the entire book here on the blog, I have been encouraged by a very wise woman, not to do so. She’s pretty smart, so I think I should listen-however, if you are interested in more, let me know!

Chapter 1

December 2008
Derrick Sterling sat on the edge of his bed in the middle of the night, knowing that tomorrow he would be in a jail cell and the view would be very different.  The light from the moon cast his shadow onto the floor below him.  His hands, with their long fingers and bluntly cut fingernails, were shaking as he made the loops with the dark gray shoelaces of his running shoes.  He was angry at himself and scared thinking of what had just taken place.  A single tear fell from his left eye and onto his cheek. He quickly wiped it away with his hand.  He knew what he needed to do and nothing was going to stop him this time.  He quietly exited his room and started down the stairs.  He nearly tripped and fell as he stepped over the one step that creaked and nearly missed the step below.  He caught himself against the wall where his elbow banged into the railing that sent a painful sensation up his arm.  He stood quietly hoping that it didn’t wake up his two sleeping sons or his parents who were staying in the nearby guest bedroom, from out of town.  He continued walking to the front door where he stopped and took a deep breath, then let it out, he repeated this over and over. All of the familiar scents of this place filled his nose.  He turned to take one last look at the place that he called home, thinking to himself that he may never see it again.  He took one more deep breath and turned to open the door.

As he opened the door a wave of cool winter air filled the room.  Derrick stepped out into the cold, descended his front steps and then began his journey down the cracked sidewalk, singing in his head “step on a crack and you’ll break your mothers’ back” out of habit, and he placed his left foot right on the center of a large vertical crack in the cement.  He could feel the frozen humidity as it bounced off his nose and teeth.  He was clothed in a worn out black t-shirt, jeans with a hole in the left knee, and pair of running shoes, but even with the frigid temperature he didn’t feel cold.  His eyes were open but his vision was blurred by the tears. He walked along the sidewalk moving away from his home toward the center of town. He couldn’t focus, he felt like he never would be able to again.  He passed a small Gas ‘n’ Go station on the corner of the street and could hear a couple arguing in their car parked by the pump.  The street light was bright as he passed underneath it and he focused on his shadow.  He noticed how dark it was, and how lifeless it seemed.  He thought to himself maybe that was what his soul looked like too, dark and lifeless.  He pushed the thumb nail on his left hand into his index finger just to see if he could feel it.  Maybe if he could just make it hurt enough it would take away the pain he felt inside.  But he pushed enough to break the skin, and he didn’t feel a thing.

He continued to walk, placing one unfocused and clumsy foot in front of the other, looking up at the moon that was a small sliver of light in the constant dark sky.  He couldn’t see very many stars out tonight, so he again focused on the darkness, thinking that maybe it might represent something.  He tripped on a crack in the sidewalk, he tried to steady himself, but fell to his hands and knees.  He tore the knee of his jeans further open, and made a small cut that ran a drip of dark red blood down his leg, but he couldn’t feel it, so he pushed himself up and just kept walking.  He just needed something, wanted something that could make him feel normal again.  Something that could help him sleep at night, help him to trust other people and to trust in himself. He wanted to feel like a normal person, he wanted to be anybody but Derrick Sterling.

He thought back to the last time that he had truly felt happy.  It was in the summer time and he and his family had left town to go camping and fishing.  He and his wife had loaded their two sons into the back seat of their brown station wagon that his mother had given to them after they got married. With his hands on the wheel they had driven over two hours, up the mountain.  His wife sat in the passenger seat her long brown hair covering her shoulders.  She looked so small with her big dark eyes set deeply into her face.  If you didn’t know her, you would think her eyes always looked a little sad, but that’s just how they were and Derrick knew that, and loved that about her.

Their two boys were in the buckled tightly in the back seat of the car.  The baby was sleeping.  His head was rolled to the side and a small drip of drool was running down his check.  His other son was four years old at the time playing with a small blue truck in his lap, using his legs as roads and opening the doors and closing them again.  He was wearing a blue hat with a green truck on the front and his brown curly hair poked out in all directions under the bottom.  He had big dark eyes like his mothers, and they often looked at Derrick like he was the coolest person in the world.  They played games in the car, sang, and his wife read to them. They camped by a small river that cut through the mountains like a snake and when the sun reflected off the surface of the water it caused a sparkle like the surface was covered in diamonds. He remembered his son casting his red snoopy fishing pole into the water and waiting.  He was so impatient at first and wanted to catch one so badly.  He kept asking Derrick if he was doing it right and what he could do to catch one.  After a few times though, and encouraged patience by his father, he brought out his first fish.  Derrick’s wife cheered from the side of the river.  She was holding their other son tightly in her arms and feeding him a bottle.   At that moment he was truly happy, he felt normal, and felt that he had everything.

He snapped back to reality leaving the happy dream behind, and realized that he was not happy, he was not normal and that he needed help.  Picking up his feet again from where they had stopped he continued to walk through the town.  He had to shield his eyes with his hand as a car came down the road pointing their headlights right at him.  It passed by him but Derrick had to wait for his eyes to readjust to the darkness.  He continued on passing by the local grocery store, the clothing store, the pawn shop, and the bakery outlet.  He could see his destination up ahead and he continued to move forward putting one running shoe in front of the other.

The building stood like a castle against the dark sky.  It was white and tall with a domed ceiling and a large staircase escalating up to the front doors.  He took a forced deep breath again and then another one. Derrick began to climb the steps, he could feel his heart racing in his chest and he thought to himself that this was the first time he had been able to feel in so long.  He reached the top of the steps and stopped to stare at the large wood doors before him.  The glass window in the door read “Hanover City Police.” He reached out his hand to the large brass handle.  The handle was cold against his hand and he almost pulled away, but he didn’t.  He knew what he had to do.  He repositioned his hand and pulled open the door.

A wave of warm air passed over him as he stepped into the room.  It was a small entry room that led into a long hall.  There was a small plant in the corner that was turning brown on the end of the leaves and curling over.  Step 1: He moved forward walking on the concrete floor toward the end of the hall.  He could hear his footsteps bouncing off of the walls as he stepped 2, 3, 4, 5, 6…  He could hear his breath slow and deep and could feel the pounding of his heart. For a brief moment,  step 15,  he stopped terrified at the decision he was making.  He wasn’t sure if this was what he should do.  He wasn’t sure if it would really change anything.  He looked back at the door and thought of the reason that he had come.  He thought of his two boys asleep, safe in their beds at home, and the life that they deserved.  He turned back around and continued to step.  He thought about placing one foot in front of the other, and nothing more.

At step 21, the end of the hall was a long desk with a bullet proof window separating the desk from the hallway.  Derrick looked at the desk to see a woman with gray hair pulled up in a bun.  She looked kind, like his grandma, with pudgy cheeks and soft hands.  She looked up at him and Derrick noticed that she had really deep blue eyes and nice teeth.

“Can I help you?” she said.

Derrick took a deep slow breath and looked her right in the eye, “I did it, I killed my wife” he said.

That Which Shall… “selfie”… Not Be Said

In 2013, Selfie topped the list of Oxford’s word of the year. It also topped many a list of words “please oh please” don’t ever say in 2014.  With that in mind, and the focus on my writing works, I decided it was the perfect time to take an affirmation “selfie”.  So to share with you my new author “that which shall not be said” photo op!  Professionalism at it’s finest!  Now I just need a cover to place it in….Here’s to 2014!

Finding Courage in the New Year

My family and I recently went to the movie Frozen.  As we left the movie theater my daughter ran in circles flinging her hands into the air as if she was Elsa and had the power to freeze things.  She was unaware of the gawking eyes that followed her every move.  I watched this angel in awe.

As you know, I want to publish a book.  I am already an author as I write and have completed manuscripts, but I want to actually have my book published.  I am afraid though.  Afraid of what people might think of me, and what they might feel.  What do they say about my writing in their own homes, I wonder.  This blog is the first step in the direction of losing my fear.  I sat with my mouse hovering over the post button the first time I shared something that I wrote and questioned my own abilities.  I thought of my mini Elsa and clicked the button.

Now, I hate to admit, it is still not easy. I am still fearful of what others think. I wish it were not this way and I wonder how this is happens.  My young daughter loves to sing.  She loves to share her art and creativity with the world.  She is so confident in her abilities that she once asked me, “Mom, do you think Jewel is mad at me?”  I asked her what she meant by that, to which she responded, “Well, I can sing better than her, but she is pretty good too.”  Will she loose this too?  Did I once love sharing my words?

So in my New Year I will make a resolution to find my courage.  The courage to believe in myself.  To find joy in my own art and to share it with the world, no matter what they might think.  I may never reach the place where I wonder if Lisa Gardner is mad at me, but I sure hope I can overcome the point where I wonder if others will like me.

The Plague Legacy-Acquisitions

My very first public book review!

The Plague Legacy-Acquisitions by Christine Haggerty

I am not sure that if my family had been killed by the plague and I was about to board a ship to the land of gladiators, that I would want to survive.  Cam, however, is not given a choice and with his kind heart and determined spirit I find myself cheering for him and thinking about him even when I am not actively reading this book.  This is a gripping story about a boy’s hunt for his place in a very scary world, where the future of the entire population rides on his shoulders.  There is a slice of love, mixed with danger and fear and an overwhelming desire for survival. It is a must read and I highly recommend it!

Can be purchased here: http://www.amazon.com/The-Plague-Legacy-Christine-Haggerty-ebook/dp/B00H15COZQ/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1388361858&sr=8-1&keywords=The+Plague+Legacy

Merry Christmas

As we spend time with family this holiday season, from my family to yours, we wish you a very Merry Christmas!

The True Meaning of Christmas

Christmas is just around the corner and my family and I are busy in preparation.   I love this time of year.  The smells, the lights, the smiling faces and the music! I believe in God and our savior Jesus Christ.  I believe in the true meaning of Christmas and in keeping Christ present.

 

I also believe in the Spirit of Santa Claus.  I do not feel that he has taken away from the true meaning of Christmas, but just the opposite in fact.  It is through the spirit of Santa Claus that I have witnessed more people being Christ-like this season than any other time of year.  It is the act of giving, donating, and bringing awareness to others and their needs that show the true essence of Christ.

Instead of doubting humanity and the spirit that is Christmas, let us in our own homes ensure that our children understand the great sacrifice that was made for us, while still allowing them the joy and to see the good and kindness in others through the spirit of Santa Claus-as for some, that may be the only way.  Instead of hoping others realize the true meaning of Christmas, I say let’s make a change, and challenge ourselves to live without judgement and keep the Christmas Spirit all year long.  Not making others see as we do, but instead, see what we do.  For that is the true meaning of Christmas.

In Pursuit of Motherhood Perfection

As mothers, we will never be good enough.  Historically, and I know this from my mother and grandmother, they too felt inadequate.  In their time, the expectation was that they have a clean house, good food on the table and well behaved children.  The way they achieved this was through time spent cleaning, cooking, sending the kids outside, yelling and discipline, and a spank now and then.  They now wish that things would have been left and they would have spent more time with their children.

If I am to believe what all of the blog posts are saying, the expectation today is that it’s all about the kids even to the extent that we should have dirty houses, quick meals, constant playing, and absolutely no yelling.  Cherish every moment, and allow them to express their individuality.  Not all, but the pattern of children now is a large group of entitled and disrespectful children that our elderly population just doesn’t get.

What are we to do?  Well as for me, I am just going to do the very best that I can.  I am a firm believer in all things in ration.  Every day there are things I wish I did differently or better.  Every night I accept my imperfections and forgive myself, starting tomorrow anew.  What I know about myself and my raising of my children is this: If my child doesn’t listen, I might yell.  If they misbehave, are disrespectful or rude, there will be consequences.  They will know right from wrong, and know that God exists, watching our every action-but that there is great forgiveness.  They will learn to play on their own, outside and in-this may include tv or a video game now and then-all things in ration.  They will learn please and thank you and to send a card in the mail when words just aren’t enough.  They will have a clean house and a good meal and it may take me all day sometimes.  I will work and will sometimes text and be on the computer-there are others things important too, even if not as much.  Through this, when they are older, they will realize how important it is to work hard, and also that they need to call each other and their friends once in a while to say hello. In high school, they won’t have large holes in their ears or tattoos on their arms, and their pants will cover their underwear-they can show their independence elsewhere.  They will know they are loved, they are important, and that they are amazing souls that I am so blessed to be a part of their lives.  They will know what it feels like to dance in the kitchen, and run around on hands and knees playing horses with me.  They will know that my Barbie likes to flip her hair, and that my truck runs into a lot of things.  They will know they can tell me anything and that I will help them, without judgment-but hopefully with advice.  I will hug them every night and every day. I will drop everything to come to their rescue when they are hurt or need me.  I will kiss them when they will let me and through my relationship with their dad, I will show them what love and friendship looks like.  They will laugh and will know the meaning of family and that it is the most important thing above all else.

I will know, in the future, when I am doubting my decisions and full of “I wishes” that in the moment, I just did the very best that I could, and hopefully, when I pick up the phone to call them, on the other end will be a well-rounded, confident independent child that loves me  (even a fraction) as much as they know I love them.

Originally Posted at: http://becauseiamamom.wordpress.com/2013/12/16/in-pursuit-of-motherhood-perfection/