Ahoy, I am Jara Marku Palango, I am one of the guys who worked on India’s first vernacular board game. 

I belong to an ancient sect called Gariyen of  Duhin an ancient religion from ancient land of Diain. We worship the great god Hama Nuvish and Milaksh. Though  Rajakumar the main guy behind India’s first vernacular game, and I are inversely inclined, nevertheless considered as an alter ego to one another and it became clear as I was also doing  research in the ancient language of mine Milta, and of course English. In the ancient land of Diain, the region where Milta is spoken the place was known either as  Nnaiche or as Rasmad and a lovely river called Vamko of wonderful fragrance of Sero, Delsan, Leemal and many was known to be flowing along the waters which also served as the drinking water, as milk and as food for the people.  This beautiful river flowed to every home and people drank directly from the river. It is also written that the beautiful Vamko will come  to the people, that is, no matter where they decide to have a home and the Angel Vamko will go there to the homes of people and was also known as river with life. It is also recorded that the waters or the milk of Vamko is the only food people took.

It must have been some kind of super elixir and more and more I heard about it, these people were not like me and you but appeared very exotic, heavenly and angelic. How can I or my people ever claim to belong to such a religion or a group without having or anybody ever in my traceable ancestry ever having  displayed even an iota of any powers, what so ever, Gariyen sect of the great religion Duhin, had.  I wondered aloud as I was listening to an old man of knowledge, who is 92 years old and named GURUJI Jannumara. He smiled and nodded.

Jannumara, whose knowledge and wisdom of Dasva and Shadnipau the timeless antiquity of ultimate wisdom, has been handed down to him, only from word of mouth said, “son, it is all in the mind and mind is in the time and time is ageless and if you have the mind you have the power. You are relating to time thinking from present, all creatures do, then you see only present and its limitations. It is the free will with which the recipient of knowledge magnifies it to extraordinary proportions or diminishes it to insignificant levels and then power comes magnified or diminished, all according to free will. Son you are a writer of fiction and poems, how many stories are with you now?”

I said four. Guruji Jannumara smiled again and asked, “what are the topics about?”                                 

I said the first is Virus R.I.C.H©.  It is an epic to change the humanity forever. It is about a new kind of deadly virus the humanity has to face, with every technology that is available, with every cure that is developable, with every huge huge funding that is expendable. But the cure? What will cure before humanity is completely wiped out. With the only available wildest of wildest cures coming from a philosophy student, and a nihilist group trying to prevent even trying out this remedy, which costs nothing, can humanity survive?   

The second one is Genetic city©, which is nothing but a city like ours, a few years from now. Most likely our children or our children’s children will be the citizens of the Genetic City, living quite differently than us and quite happier than us till one day some one discovered the power of true love.

The third is  Soul searching ©it is about the most amazing  discovery of oneself , that which questions everything we know, without any scope of answers but creating more and more questions till  one gives up. In the most absolute vain, the more you try to know who you are, the farther away you are from it.

 And the fourth is Terrorist code 238©. This code is guarded like a god. When the world has evolved absolutely powerful techniques conquering terror almost completely, a terrorist code 238 is quietly codified and doing wild rounds in the top echelons of security corridors. Uranium, plutonium, and other fissionable atomic bomb ingredients movements across the globe is monitored in unprecedented ways.  But yet ………

This is all I told Guruji,  

I just gave only a sketchy and tantalizing blurb of the four titles I am working on, the blurbs I wrote for our website, so as not to waste his time, but Guruji told me whatever I have written so far and whatever I am planning to write ahead and said that all the stories I have will change the world according to the free will of the people who are reading the books, so with my poetry composing and English grammar games.

Jannumara’s aged watery eyes was somehow as deep as an ocean, his smile was so beatific that people around him will always be submerged in total peace and be absolutely  transcended of petty, worldly, influences.

My eyes, filled tears on hearing Guruji Jannumara tell me the stories I have not told him and I instinctively prostrated before him and touched is frail feet. His frail hands touched my head in blessing as I got up, and here my wonderment of Gariyen people’s vanished angelic powers got answered.     

Guruji Jannumara said,” go head son make your presence felt, somebody from English speaking land will publish your stories, it will do good, it will magnify your powers and then come”.   

Another answer from the Guruji Jannumara without ever asking my question. I wanted to learn the great knowledge and wisdom of Dasva and Shadnipau the timeless and ultimate wisdom. I know I have to mature some more.

I have taken my GURUJI’s words and I am making my presence felt. Please get back to me at:

 jaramarku@thiruthamizh.com

Also please visit www.thiruthamizh.com

French writer Jean-Marie Gustave Le Clezio won the 2008 Nobel Prize in Literature, the Swedish Academy announced Thursday.

French writer Jean-Marie Gustave Le Clezio (File Photo)

The Academy cited Jean-Marie Gustave Le Clezio as “author of new departures, poetic adventure and sensual ecstasy, explorer of a humanity beyond and below the reigning civilization.”

Le Clezio, 48, received much attention with his first novel The Interrogation in 1963 and made the breakthrough as a novelist with Desert in 1980, for which he was rewarded a prize from the French Academy.

This novel Desert contains magnificent images of a lost culture in the North African desert, contrast with a depiction of Europe seen through the eyes of unwanted immigrants, the Swedish Academy said in the statement.

The emphasis in Le Clezio’s work has increasingly moved in the direction of an exploration of the world of childhood and of his own family history, the academy added.

Le Clezio was born 1940 in Nice of France, but both parents had strong family connections with the former French colony Mauritius.At the age of eight, he moved to Nigeria with his family. During the month-long voyage to Nigeria, he began his literary career with two book Un long voyage and Oradi noir.

He has taught at universities in Bangkok, Mexico City, Boston, Austin and Albuquerque among other places. Since the 1990s, Le Clezio and his wife share their time between Albuquerque in New Mexico, the island of Mauritius and Nice.

This was the fourth of the prestigious Nobel Prizes handed out this year, with awards in chemistry, physics and medicine made in the past three days.

The Nobel Prizes have been awarded annually since 1901 to those who “conferred the greatest benefit on mankind during the preceding year.”

The annual Nobel Prizes are usually announced in October and are handed out on Dec. 10, the anniversary of the 1896 death of Alfred Nobel, a Swedish industrialist and the inventor of dynamite.

Each prize consists of a medal, a personal diploma and a cash award of 10 million Swedish kronor (1.4 million U.S. dollars).

VietNamNet/Xinhuanet

http://lookatvietnam.tinmoi.vn/2008/10/french-writer-wins-2008-nobel-prize-in-literature.html

Keep away from people who try to belittle your ambitions. Small people always do that, but the really great make you feel that you, too, can become great.

--Mark Twain

This was the quote of the day in my freelancedaily.org newsletter today. (If you don't subscribe, you should. It's well worth the $30/year!) I think it's a great quote that follows my belief that there's plenty of work for everyone. This is a tough time to be looking for ANY work, but I'm not afraid to share writing leads with fellow writers because I know what goes around comes around. Maybe they'll send me a gig sometime, or buy my book, or take my class, or generally just be a great friend for life. Call it faith, karma or the cycle of life, but I really believe that writers need to stick together. This doesn't mean I'm going to read everyone's manuscript for free. (I get 100+ requests a year from people asking me to read their stuff.) But it does mean that if I see a gig that seems right for you, I'll send it your way. Of if you have a writing question that I can answer, I will. Or I'll tell you who can. ; )

Così lo Street Museum sarà un luogo virtuale, un grande museo on line a cielo aperto: per realizzarlo, gli organizzatori di TIM Tribù invitano già da ora il pubblico della Rete a segnalare le opere preferite inviandone una foto via MMS o caricandola sul sito dell’iniziativa www.timtribu.it.
Ai curatori 2.0 di questo che si propone come il primo museo user generated sarà affidato il privilegio di tenere aggiornato lo stato dell’arte, fornendo informazioni sulle opere e gli artisti.
I lavori in gara saranno commentati, votati e supportati dagli utenti che determineranno la rosa dei primi 100, di diritto nello Street Museum. Le opere più meritevoli di entrare nel pantheon della Street Art verranno scelte e votate soltanto dagli utenti.
L’idea è sicuramente geniale d’accordo, ma non ho potuto fare a meno di riprendere in mano il catalogo della mostra Street Art Sweet Art tenutasi nella primavera del 2007 al PAC di Milano, dove Jacopo Perfetti scrive: “ […]  un’arte nata sui muri, fruita quando ancora la vernice è fresca e cola tra le insenature di una superficie ruvida che gli dona vita. Questa è la vera potenza della street art, la sua genuinità. Perché chi dipinge su un muro lo fa solo per il bisogno di fare arte, per il bisogno di conquistare spazi che gli vengono negati, per dare il suo contributo al prossimo. Per stupirlo, per irretirlo, per donargli una parte di sé. Un ‘opera di street art non può essere venduta. Non segue direttive esterne da chi la produce. È estranea a qualsiasi dinamica corrosiva e claustrofobica. Annulla qualsiasi intermediario e riporta l’arte a parlare con il proprio pubblico.”
Potrebbe avere un senso costruire un museo e soprattutto una mappatura di qualcosa che ogni giorno corre il rischio di essere cancellato ma che allo stesso tempo trae la sua forza e il suo fascino proprio da questo quotidiano rischio? Cosa ne pensano gli artisti? Intendo quei writer che troveranno catalogate involontariamente le proprie opere?

Hannah Höch

Para os testes foi utilizado um computador com a seguinte configuração:

Core 2 Duo E2200 2.2GHz

Ram DDR2 Kingston 2Gb

15Gb livre de HD na partição a ser utilizada

SO Windows XP SP3 Pro

Primeiramente foram definidas linhas mestras, o primeiro editor testado foi o Microsoft Word, após os testes o mesmo foi desinstalado, a máquina reiniciada e foi instalado o OpenOffice Writer. A análise focou: custo, manutenção, instalação, interface, estabilidade, portabilidade, usabilidade e considerações finais. Outros quesitos podem ser encontrados em http://www.linux.com/feature/118986

Custo

O Word Pro faz parte do pacote Office e não pode ser adquirido separadamente. O pacote possui um custo aproximado de R$ 650,00, é distribuído em diversos idiomas, possui suporte e dá direito a atualizações gratuitas no site update da Microsoft.

O OpenOffice é gratuito, distribuido em vários idiomas. É distribuído na forma de pacote, com todos os demais aplicativos, e possui suporte e atualizações também gratuitos.

Neste quesito, ponto ao OpenOffice.

Manutenção

O Word possui recursos de depuração de erros, além do auto-salvamento, o que impede a perda completa de um trabalho não salvo. O tempo de auto salvamento é customizável, permitindo ao usuátrio combinar desempenho e segurança. Em caso de erro, há a opção de reparar e reinstalar. Caso tenha apagado os arquivos temporários será necessário o CD de instalação para recuperar.

O Writer também possui um recurso de depuração de erros, e idem o recurso de auto-salvamento customizável. Caso seja necessário corrigir uma aplicação corrompida é necessário reinstalar o programa.

Neste quesito, empate técnico.

Instalação

A instalação do pacote Office demorou 12 minutos e consumiu 83Mb de Ram durante o processo, utilizou bem a tecnologia de duplo núcleo d processamento, utilizou pouco o arquivo de paginação. Após instalado, o pacote ocupou 795Mb do HD.

A instalação do pacote OpenOffice demorou 5 minutos e consumiu 64Mb de Ram durante o processo, utilizou bem a tecnologia de duplo núcleo d processamento, utilizou pouco o arquivo de paginação. Após instalado, o pacote ocupou 342Mb do HD.

Considerando que as aplicações similares foram todas instaladas, ou seja, o que foi instalado é equivalente, ponto para o OpenOffice.

Interface

A interface do Word é totalmente inovadora relativamente às versões anteriores. A princípio ficamos um pouco perdidos, principalmente pelo costume com versões antigas. Porém, ficou muito mais intuitivo o trabalho, a organização das ferramentas.

A interface do Writer é tradicional, com pequenas mudanças, como ícones diferentes. Mantém o pretinho básico.

Neste quesito, ponto ao Word.

Estabilidade

Nos testes de estabilidade, não percebemos sensíveis diferenças. Ambos softwares são bastante estáveis e confiáveis. Conseguimos obter um travamento no Office, enquanto no OpenOffice não conseguimos nenhum. No entanto, o Word após seu carregamento consome 30Mb de Ram, enquanto o Writer consome 56Mb.

Pesando as diferenças, consideramos empate técnico.

Portabilidade

O OpenOffice é disparado melhor neste quesito. Suporta formatos próprios e do concorrente sem grandes perdas de formatação, além da opção nativa de exportar como PDF. O Word possui poucos formatos, e é necessário instalar plugins para exportar como PDF diretamente.

Ponto ao OpenOffice.

Usabilidade

As funções básicas são equivalentes, embora a disposição das funções nos softwares é distinta. Agora quando vai utilizar funções mais avançadas começam as diferenças.

Primeiramente o recurso de visualizar caracteres não imprimíveis, o Word apresenta muito mais caracteres e consequentemente configurações. O Writer não exibe, por exempo, quebras. No Word, há diferenças entre quebras de página e quebras de seção, enquanto no Writer são duas coisas distintas, ou seja, há quebras e seções, exigindo dois trabalhos ao usuário.

Ambos implementaram a base de dados bibliográficos, porém no Word há uma janela com campos específicos e no Writer uma tabela a ser completada. O gerenciamento de alinhamento vertical do OpenOffice é horrível, sendo necessário muita POG (Programação Orientada a Gambiarra) para conseguir alinhar corretamente, fora que um deslize do usuário pode desconfigurar todo o texto.

Portanto, ponto pro Word.

Considerações Finais

O Word é um aplicativo robusto, com muito tempo de mercado e portanto mais maduro. Seu lançamento data de 1983, enquanto o OpenOffice foi lançado em 2000, ainda é uma criança. Na batalha, ficou 3 a 2 para o OpenOffice, porém a análise possui pesos. Uma coisa que pesa bastante é o custo de aquisição, e uma coisa que tem pouca influência é a instalação, por exemplo.

Ao usuário comum, que representa mais de 90% dos usuários, o OpenOffice supre satisfatoriamente todas as necessidades, a custo zero, e portanto é a solução indicada.

Uma análise pessoal, dos quesitos analisados os mais importantes são usabilidade, estabilidade e custo. Profissionalmente necessito utilizar cotidianamente recursos avançados, portanto é impensável trocar o Office pelo OpenOffice, por enquanto. Espero que nas próximas versões sejam melhoradas estes quesitos apontados para que eu possa migrar em breve.

The agenda for today is to put in three hours at computer school, the school shuts down at noon every Friday, fill out a paper application and the form for a crimminal background check for United Healthcare and give the two to my job developer, see if I can borrow from school one of the big books that deal with the entire MS Office Suite so I can review Word and Excel for my job interview Wednesday with the local college I applied to for a job and then do my food shopping for the coming week.

I hope to post another short story today, too.

GHH

Passing the baton of the premiership to Abdullah was one of his grave mistakes.

When Tun handed over the premiership to Abdullah in 2003, the rest of the Cabinet nodded in approval, without an iota of doubt vis-à-vis Tun's decision-making ability. It did not occur to them, back then, Abdullah would send BN deeper into misery with his indecisiveness and unfulfilled reforms.

Abdullah, at the shift of the premiership, shined like a beacon of hope towards a more democratically progressive Malaysia, post Tun's era. Five years later, his poignant picture in the media, stating "work with me, not for me" reduced to nothing but a false sense of hope to the nation.

Abdullah is single-handedly responsible to the lack of economic progress in the country as opposed to Tun's era. His pledge to nib corruption in the bud remains undone as he packs his bag to leave office in March 2009. The same fate falls on Abdullah's lackluster economic corridors.

The mighty Barisan Nasional spearheaded by Abdullah - and first time after the Independence in 1957 - was badly trounced upon in 2008 general election losing five states and its parliament's two-third majority. Facing the furor invoked by Pakatan Rakyat, led by Anwar Ibrahim, BN's performance after the election has been less than desirable.

Recently, BN's ship sank deeper when Abdullah decided to invoked the draconian Internal Security Act against Raja Petra Kamaruddin, Teresa Kok and a Sin Chew journalist, ironically, just a day after the government decided to release the suspension on ‘Malaysia Today' - Raja Petra's controversial web portal, read by millions of Malaysians.

Many akin the recent ISA spat to Operasi Lalang in 1987 when opposition leaders and non-governmental body's representatives were arrested, major dailies were suspended in a concentrated effort to nub protest against Tun after he renounced the legality of UMNO and subsequently formed UMNO baru, which he helmed without further resistance until his self-imposed retirement.

But what we must not forget: no journalist was arrested or "questioned" during Operasi Lalang.

Raja Petra and Teresa Kok were held for supposedly being a ‘national threat' to the country, toeing among others, on that sacred racial line which divides the multiracial Malaysia. While Teresa was being released after a short detention, Raja Petra was sent off to Kamunting to serve a two year detention sentence without being accorded a fair trial or the right to defend himself.

For decades, we have been forewarned to steer clear from the sensitive racial issues for fear of resurrecting the ghost of May 13, 1969. The subliminal message to stay united beyond the color of our skin have been drummed into our ears via poorly-composed ‘muhibbah' songs and the very ideology of ‘perpaduan' blasted on the government-owned media throughout the eighties and early nineties.

We were almost certain that if we dare question the difference we have and the government we elected, May 13 would revisit the nation.

However, Malaysia has proved herself to be an adult nation, capabale of making her independent choice, when days and weeks ahead of the most memorable general election saw nothing but normalcy returned in our lives. The voice of people never got any louder.

While Abdullah is ready - or rather shoved forward to be ready - to pass the baton to Najib, many more UMNO stalwarts are now vying for the deputy-president's chair, a seat of which falls vacant as Abdullah decided not to contest in UMNO's party election in December, paving way for Najib to sit at the helm of UMNO should he wins the presidential post in the same party election. The vacancy will ensure a bitter fight within UMNO: a society notoriously known for its stiff rule of hierarchy and money-politics.

Leading a country which upheld tradition and respect for the elderly, Abdullah's most blatant faux pas was ignoring the retired lion in Malaysia's political landscape, Tun Dr. Mahathir. If Abdullah heeds Tun's concern and criticism - the way Singaporeans still listen to their senior minister, Lee Kuan Yew - Abdullah would have left UMNO on a better platform.

Leaders must remember that Malaysians have grown with time; their political opinion is no exception.

While is it unfair to gauge Abdullah's performance in such a short tenure, he undoubtedly, goes down in history as a pleasant Prime Minister but forced to leave office to shoulder responsibility for BN's dismal performance in 2008 election.

UMNO must now change or perish.

The Cabana Boy has decreed that I shall take my laptop and some things and take myself hence from these premises--for the weekend.

The laptop is because I'm heavy into editing my urban fantasy. The things are because my sister is a good conservationist and keeps her thermostat low so I need layers. Lots of layers. The going away is because my house will be in a state of demolition this weekend and the man seems to think I might micromanage the whole deal. ME. Can you believe it?!?!?!

(Apparently all my children can. They've snickered about it a good deal. "No!  Momma...how can you SAY such a thing?' delivered with sarcasm gravy...)

The house is 100 years old or more, and it's had a number of add-ons over the years, some more well done than others. A couple of the walls are actually starting to crumble inside and the Cabana Boy decided as long as he was sending me away he'd tear those down and put in insulation (a novelty in this house) and new drywall. But the real mess will be the new set of kitchen windows the contractor's putting in. The old ones actually started raining inside the frames this summer, and we finally decided it was time. I can't wait to see what he's going to find when he pops that window out....oh wait. I won't get to see it. I won't be here. :)

The children will stay, not particularly affected by either of these procedures other than their dad lets them help.  Little Miss remembered with glee when her father did the same thing on the stairwell wall this summer-- "Papa gave me a hammer and I made a hole in the wall and it fell down! Then he and Will made a new one!" So they can all process their frustration and hopefully get at least some of it cleaned up before I get back. I'll cross my fingers anyway.

So I will get a few days of adult company over in Ohio and rumour has it we might even hit the new Waffle House!  (It's the sticks here, my friends...it doesn't take much to get us excited.)

Then we'll get the painting done and finish the preparations for moving the office over.  I'm to that stage where I'm over the panic about the move happening and on to JUST WANTING IT DONE. (Especially the longer I watch the economic forecasts.) Better to spend time in my fantasy in the backwoods of Montana being chased by bloodthirsty elves. These ain't your sweet Keebler bakers, my friends.*

*note to self: Quit watching McCain talk at debates!

Plus, the hours they need to fill are 9am - 6pm Monday - Friday.  No weekends!  I'll be able to get to work by public transportation.

So, be sure to check back often for updates.

GHH

1. a preliminary discourse; a preface or introductory part of a discourse, poem, or novel.
2. an introductory speech, often in verse, calling attention to the theme of a play.
3. the actor or actress who delivers this.
4. an introductory scene, preceding the first act of a play, opera, etc.
5. any introductory proceeding, event, etc.: Appetizing delicacies were the prologue to a long dinner.
–verb (used with object) 6. to introduce with or as if with a prologue.

I like definition four a lot. An appetizer. A delicacy. When I sit down to a dinner at a nice restaraunt, sometimes the appetizer turns out to be the best part!  

Some people hate prologues and skip them. So I propose that if what you are going to write in your prologue isn't skippable, make it chapter one (or flashback to it). And I propose if what you are going to write is a high fantasy novel, you're going to want a prologue. I propose the first line of your prologue should be every bit as awe-inspiring as the first line of chapter one. And I propose it ties into the end of the story somehow. But that 'how' should probably only be clear once the end of the story is read.

Still, some people have snobby hostility towards prologues and will put your book back on the shelf as soon as they see it. Frankly, I'm not sure I want snobby people like that reading my novel anyway, so no loss ;P

The reader is always welcome to skip the prologue if they want to jump into the main part of the story, or, if they're like me, they can analyze the clues in the prologue and try to figure out what's going to happen next.
 
While I can certainly jump into writing chapter one, the prologue is vital in that it holds subtle foreshadowing to the ending of book three. Your average high fantasy geek loves that kinda thing! The final scene of the final book will also pinpoint the exact date the prologue occurs. I find that pretty darn cool!
 
OTOH, while I feel it is easily as riveting and attention-getting as chapter one, my prologue is non-vital in that it holds no information the reader can't do without. I believe that is the key to writing a good prologue. The reader can start with chapter one and go to the end without missing a beat, but I'm hoping the ending will be enticing enough for the reader to go back to book one and read the prologue anyway, just to see how it weaves into the grand scheme of things.
 
I can always drop the prologue if I have an agent or editor that feels it should be so, but for right now, I want a prologue there because I'm going to assume this book will be for my eyes only. Also, I'd like to think the agents I choose will enjoy high fantasy, therefore hopefully enjoy a good prologue.

Anyway, you know what feels great? Finally really actually being done with organizing my files!

Now what I'm left with is lots of text files full of freewriting and brainstormed ideas---like a "primordial soup"---all seperated neatly into scene files. From those, it's easy to write my scenes (especially with the anti-perfectionist rule in play). It's comparable to taking raw materials turning them into a product.

In light of having more "raw data" to work with, I did rewrite my first scene. I know, I know. I wasn't supposed to touchy but I did anyway ... so nyah.

The remix of Scene 01 had a new word count of 278 words. No real significant changes occurred; just better descriptions and a better flow (thanks to the additional notes I had to work with).

Then I moved onto Scene 02.

Continuing with Dahjal's point of view, he gets to have a lovely chat with Anati. Unfortunately for him, she's still not interested in him. Worse, she's mastered the art of building sexual tension and does so solely to torture him.

If done correctly, the next scene will show just how easily Dahjal can control most people in the world, which will hopefully leave the reader wondering if Dahjal's just obsessed with Anati simply because his powers don't work on her.

"I wouldn't have any use for you. What fun is a corrupted man who pretends to be innocent?"

The backdrop is the top floor of an ancient Zion tower with ocean water overtaking the stairwell, spreading across the floor. This adds to the uneasiness of the scene. Dahjal himself is much like the tower, which can only take so much pressure before crumbling.

We learn of Rahaab, yet another immortal, of Drionus, an infamous seven-rays user from the past, and of Asyria, a very special six-year old child.

Scene 02 weighed in at 805 words.

      278
+    805
=======
    1083 -> Great! Now I just need to do that 80 more times.

Prev: More file arrangement! :( | Next: ????

According to my Mother, my Father wanted to name me Angelica so that he could call me Angel.  Ahh bless ...  And Angelica is a family name on my mother's side so it would have had some meaning behind it, but my Mama didn't think that was the name for me.  Nope.  She liked the name Allyson.  Allyson - not Allison or Alison - Allyson, with a "y".  Like June Allyson. But June was not the inspiration for the name (just the spelling) my Mama gave me; that came from a movie and soap opera called "Peyton Place".

Until a couple of weeks ago, I'd actually never seen the movie or show that was the motivation behind my name.  As I watched, it got me to thinking ... does a name somewhat define a person's character or does the person define the name? 

Alison MacKenzie from Peyton Place was a small town girl who was destined for bigger things.  I grew up in a town that was considered somewhat small; you knew most of the people around, and you couldn't go to a store without running into someone you knew or that knew your mother or father or grandfather.  And Peyton Place is in New England; it just so happens that I love New England!  I often daydream about moving to a cozy, small New England town.  And I have, for most of my adult life, had this this pang that there is something bigger meant for me; that I haven't yet found my true purpose in life.  

Alison also leaves her small town and goes to New York to start a career as a writer.  She's given the opportunity to go to college and study writing, but she'd rather do it and learn hand on rather than sitting in a classroom and listen to someone to tell her how to write.  I am a writer, or at least I try to be.  And I've thought about going back to school for an MFA in Creative Writing, but it just doesn't suit me.  I didn't flee to New York, but I did quit my job and escape to Ireland for six months, and while I was there I did a lot of writing.

So ... are these similarities merely coincidences or is it all in the name?  Did my Mother's choice in name influence who I've become and the person I still have left to find within me? 

What's in a name?  A lot.  If it actually does play role in the person you become that's one thing.  But even more importantly than that, it's the name my Mama chose for me.  Whether she thought I'd become a writer or a strong woman or someday live in a small New England town or if she just simply liked the sound of the name ... whatever it was, it was chosen just for me.  And that is who I am.  I am my mother's child.  Allyson.

WIthin this group of associations there is a thread of continuity; thievery, radicalism, hatred.  BO wants me to believe that his associations with these people have not influenced him in any way. Just where is BO going with all this? Perhaps he wants to be the thieving radical hate monger of the century.

There a few more asscociations that occurred earlier in his life. Like the one with his mother, a known radical thinker, his grandparents, also known to be radical thinkers. Then there is Barack Hussein Obama Senior. BO would like us to think his father abandoned him, but BO-Sr. kept in touch with his son, and BO- Sr. believed in taxing the rich to benefit the poor, or "redistribution of wealth."

I don't believe for a moment that the association with his parents didn't have any influence on his life or his values.

What is scary about his associations, is that the people who are backing him must  be thinking the same way. Why else would they worship him?

It has been kind of a hassle, but it is working out okay--afraid to say fine because my flights might be dropped--you never know.

Will post more tomorrow.

Thanks for reading.

I recently had to face the consequences of my decision to work only low-paying jobs for ten years so that I would have the time and energy to work on my fiction. Because of my salary history, I don't have a lot of savings I can contribute to buying my own apartment, and the amount of money I can safely borrow is limited.

My mom pointed this out to me the other day, and even though she delivered the news gently and I already knew it anyway, I still felt like I'd been sucker punched.

But the next evening, my mom called me to thank me for all the advice I've given her about writing. She has been hired by a writer to help excavate memories from the writer for an autobiography, and to take notes, to keep records, to be organized but not in a way that hampers the creative process, and to be a soundboard in general. A few weeks ago, she asked for my advice about this process, and it turns out that not just my mom is grateful for what I contributed, the writer is, too.

In my value system, helping another writer to write is far, far more valuable than having some extra cash lying around. I am doing what I was put on this planet to do, and if I had to make some sacrifices to do that, so be it. The ten years were absolutely worth it.

If you're feeling conflicted about the trajectory of your life, take a minute and go back to the start. What were you put on this planet to do?

Write it down and tape it up somewhere you will see it every day. It is proof that you are not wandering around blindly. You have a destination, and you're on your way.

Ashlyn Chase

What do my husband, family and friends think of my writing?

This is a question I get frequently in interviews, probably because I write erotic romance. Since I believe in being completely honest (or joking around if I can’t be) I’ll give you the surprising truth.

My husband tells me I’m the coolest wife ever.  Okay, that’s not so surprising. At first he wasn’t very supportive, thinking this was just another “pipe dream.”  But soon he came to realize that this writing thing made me happy and I was working my fingers to the bone to succeed.  Now he’s a big fan and wants to read all my work as soon as it’s finished.  I’m glad I didn’t let his earlier feelings discourage me!  He says he even tells the guys at work about it now.  They all think I’m the coolest wife ever too.  One guy said, “Let’s compare wives. Accountant?  Erotica writer?  You win.”

My daughter vacillates between being proud of me and refusing to acknowledge I’m her mother.  “Just don’t tell my friends…” she says.  Okay, I can understand that.  But once in a while one of her friends or coworkers wants to know where they can buy my books.  Ah ha!  She does talk about what I do and I’ll bet she even says it proudly.  But does she read my books?  No.  Never.  And that’s fine with me too!

Let’s see… How about the in-laws?  Well, my father-in-law and his third wife think it’s great that I have a career and make enough money to contribute to the household.  Do they read it?  They bought my paperback, but I doubt they read it.  They’re “nice” people who go to Mass every Sunday and volunteer in soup kitchens.  Of course, I could be completely wrong.  One never knows what goes on behind closed doors.  (Unless you write erotic romance and have a good imagination…)

My mother-in-law.  This was the biggest surprise.  Recently, she broke her hip and stayed with us for a month while I took care of her.  She saw how hard I work and then, without my knowledge, she picked up an anthology off the shelves with one of my short stories in it!  Oh my goodness.  I almost freaked out when I heard that she read it.  But, she liked it, and said so!  She even told me about the parts she especially liked so there’s no doubt in my mind that she did, indeed, read the whole story.  Okay, score a whole bunch of cool points for my mother-in-law.

Now friends and neighbors.  What an odd mix of reactions I get from them!  Friends support my career.  As far as I know there’s only one who wants to read my books and is waiting impatiently for the ebooks to come out in paperback.   The neighbors, however, freaked out and don’t invite me to any more Tupperware parties.  Aww… I’m crying into my checkbook, which used to bleed green because of all their product parties!

The upshot of this article is: if they love you, they only want your happiness and will continue to associate with you.  If they don’t, perhaps you were never truly friends in the first place. 

Visit Ashlyn's site at : http://www.ashlynchase.com/

This is the best news I've had in some time.

GHH

My mission has not been defined this year, so I don't feel like there is a need for me to waste my time nor yours. The money was nice, as was your company, but all good things come to an end. So be it.

Thanks for helping me get through some very rough times, you are real friends. I love all of you. Call me sometime, we'll do the lunch thing and catch up. Or, if you chose, you can always reach me via e-mail or on this BLOG.

JSR

The risk, however, includes the very real chance of being blown out of the water. I remember once letting my mother read a thirty page story I was working on; handwritten, front and back, and all she could say was that she felt the story was rather 'dry'. Nothing else; just dry. I ripped up the entire thing. She never explained to me as to why she thought it was dry reading, how I could improve, or if the story had merit at all. I also never let her read anything else I did...ever.

My husband, who is not much of a reader, also doesn't critique my work. Asking him to do so puts him in the precarious position of being put on the couch if he gets too mean about it, and he doesn't have the familiarity with the genre to provide feedback.

The lesson here is to be very picky on who reads your work. Choose someone honest, and someone who enjoys the genre you write in. There's no point in letting someone who loves murder mysteries to read fantasy, or someone who prefers memoirs to read horror. They won't be able to give you pointers on a genre they are not familiar with.

Also, recognize a good reader as someone who can offer both compliments as well as criticisms. They should be focused on the writing, not the writer. The feedback should also provide improvement on what is already there, not to shred your dreams, or even deter you from your passion. Most writers say they would write regardless if they ever get published.

Take the critique as advice. Some feedback I've received I didn't agree with. I didn't say so, of course, but accepted their words graciously and considered what I wanted from my story. When I offer feedback, I try to balance the bad with the good. One writer I noticed loved using the same words over and over, such as the word 'said'. "You lose an opportunity to use metaphor or unique words here." I pointed out. I also pointed out the story flowed well, with the characters being realistic.

Remember your copyright! When allowing others to read online, always remember where your copyrights are. Some sites that offer feedback have in their terms of service that they own anything you post! Read carefully! Also when posting parts of your story in a blog or web site, some publishing companies see this as being 'published'. Avoid this if you can. (For instance, everything in my blog is considered published and I cannot sell to content sites if I wanted to).

My writer's group provides me with feedback to my own writing, as well as allowing me to peek into the worlds of other writers. I focus on remaining honest in my opinion, but also add to some members that the style they write is not one I'm as familiar with. For example, its difficult for me to critique a memoir, but I can still say if I liked what I read.

The smell of dust and leather permeated the room. The sunlight shining through the dirty windows chased the dust moats across the silent room. An expectant hush filled the air. Books, shelf after shelf of beautiful books lined the yellowed walls.

“Ma’am, Can you show where to find The Hiding Place by Corrie Ten Boom?”

The woman behind the oak desk smiled at me, her eyes lighting up behind her cat shaped eyeglasses. Coming out from behind the desk, she led me to the card file. After showing me how to find the card I was looking for, she sent me in the direction of the book I was looking for and left me free to wonder around the most beautiful place I had ever been, the library.

This weekend I'll post some more articles on writing flash fiction along with a new flash fiction story, too.

I'm still concerned about being able to get to Braddock Hills on public transportation if United Healthcare is interested in me.  I'll ask them about what hours I might have to work.

GHH

that day, in seconds on
the second floor 
of that grimy, scummy club
flesh splattered against
the imaginary walls
so that I could maintain my
anonymity, I saw how
eager the populous was
offering up the fragile
edges of their pages to be
cut or
torn

except him

with his blazed ebony skin
gleaming against the night
he performed the incision
upon himself
to be free
from the torturous braise
of this uneven gray life

he descended upon me
machete eyes mowing a path,
pulpwood lifeless leaflets
like rotten rose petals blanketing
the step in time with a
heartbeat that was no longer mine

he ripped me from the
pages of my loose life
graveled voice announcing
my new name to the world
sandpaper skin belied
satin lips like waves washing
over me, spooning lust
into my belly

splayed across the threshold
of this taboo was truth that had
been hidden from me

there was no difference in
closed eyes and open heart
my affections charged this
breath and we crackled in our
passion slaying preconceptions,
prejudice, my father's hope that
I was like him in any way and
a line
between what is okay
and what is real