Wednesday, April 11, 2012

Interview for Indie Author Network

Today I was asked to do an interview with host, Alan Ghostman Place, of Indie Author Network.  Thank you most sincerely, Alan!  It was a pleasure.

Interview with Alan Ghostman Place:


Alan Ghostman Place
In the chair today is my friend from The Villages FL, author, children's author, blogger and published poet CJ Heck. 

Hello CJ. 

Hi Alan! It's always a pleasure to talk with you. Thank you for inviting me.

You and I have been chatting a while. For those new to your work, would you please be kind enough to give us a short resume' of any new books please?

Since my first book, "Barking Spiders (and Other Such Stuff)", was traditionally published in 2000, I've spent a lot of time promoting it through my website, author school visits, and by teaching poetry workshops in schools.

During that time, I also worked on a sequel book, "Barking Spiders 2", which I illustrated and self-published in September of 2011. I'm proud to say, it was nominated for the 2011 Cybils Children's Book Award in the poetry category. It didn't win, but it was wonderful just to have the nomination and the recognition.

I also self-published a book of poetry for preschool children, "Me Too!", in October of last year. Young children love rhyme and rhythm! I'm a firm believer that little ones who are introduced to poetry at a very young age develop a lifelong love for poetry. Like the "Barking Spiders Poetry" books, this, too is written from a child's point of view and helps them find answers to the puzzling world around them.

The third book I self-published last year, "Bits and Pieces", is a collection of both flash fiction and short stories, twenty in all. It's my first venture into any books for grownups, but it won't be my last. I really enjoyed the challenge.

I also published an ebook of poetry for grownups, "A Reflection of Feelings". It's only available through Kindle and Bookrix at the moment, but I plan to also self-publish it in print within the next few weeks.

Your biography said you are from The Villages, are you a Florida-born lady?

Heaven's no. I've moved around a lot since I left my home state of Ohio, where I was born and raised.

As you are a noted children's author, do you find children hard to write for?

No, quite the contrary, Alan. I love writing for children and I find that it comes easily -- what I find difficult is writing for grownups! (Hahaha) I seem to be able to get inside children's minds and see what concerns them -- or my inner child does, and she's the one who actually does the writing.

Have their tastes changed much over the years since you have been writing? I was thinking more in general terms than the new trends like Harry Potter books.
I find that children love being challenged, both then and now, and I can't see where that will ever change. They love poetry that makes them think, laugh, feel, and even cry. They write amazing poetry themselves, which I allow them to share with me during my school visits.

I see from your profile pictures, you do a lot of school work. Do you find children more inquisitive?

Absolutely -- they question almost everything! That's what makes school visits so much fun for me. When I read a poem, they want to know where the inspiration came from, how long it took to write it, etc. Children ask very intelligent questions, too, about the writing and publishing business, itself, some even hoping to become authors.

As a published author, what part of the trade did you find most frustrating?

That's easy, Alan. Rejection letters from publishers! It's frustrating when the rejection letter is positive about your manuscript, but has the caveat added, "… but it's not what we're looking for at the present time …" I want to scream at them, "Then tell me what you ARE looking for at the present time -- maybe I have the EXACT manuscript you're looking for right here!

I love your title "Barking Spiders," what gave you the idea?

(laughing) Ahhh, a question many people ask me.
When my three daughters were small, we drove from New Hampshire to Ohio to visit family. While we were there, we went to see my youngest brother, Chip, and his wife at their home in Columbus.

Chip, the girls and I were all sitting on the floor playing Chutes and Ladders, a children's board game. About midway through the game, my oldest daughter, who was about seven, passed gas. She was embarrassed and immediately put her hands over her face and apologized. I was about to tell her it was all right, when my brother jumped up and yelled, "Sue! Grab the can of Raid! It's under the sink! Hurry! We've got a barking spider in here!"

The girls and I started to laugh, a huge gut-wrenching laughter that goes on and on and on! The kind where you're almost done and just thinking about it makes you start all over again! The kind where your eyes water, your nose runs, and you have to hold your sides because they hurt!

Okay, I told you that, so I could tell you this. Years later, when Chip turned forty, Sue had a surprise over-the-hill party for him. I wasn't able to go to the party from New Hampshire, so I wrote the poem, "Barking Spiders", as a gag gift for Chip. I asked Sue to make Chip read the poem out loud to all of the attendees ... I know, I can be a real booger, but I'm his oldest sister and he loves me (giggle).

NOW you know what a barking spider is.

Barking Spiders

The barking spiders all march in
just past dinnertime.
Some big, some small, they come to call
floating on the wind behind.

Each is clearly noticed,
although they can't be seen.
You're positive they're there though,
'cause your nose is very keen.

You know you can't outrun 'em
and a net won't get 'em caught.
Your friends laugh 'cause they're funny ...
Your mom yells 'cause they're not.

So open all the windows!
Crack the vents real fast!
'Cause these aren't normal spiders ...
barking spiders are … just gas.


Did you have to ask many publishers, before you got accepted?

Uh huh. I had a two-foot pile of rejection letters, Alan, but you know what? It only takes one
"yes". Just one "yes", and you're a published author. I always tell everyone to be persistent!

Are there any genres you would like to try to write but feel you cannot?

Not really. I've written short stories in horror, romance, science fiction, memoirs, and fantasy. I've also written erotic poetry, but I don't really have an interest in writing erotic fiction. I'm satisfied. Presently, I'm writing my first novel-length book, but it's slow moving.

I tend to write cross-genre, have you any thoughts on moving genre, or will you keep to what you are known for?

As they say, "If it ain't broke, don't fix it." (laughing) I tend to stay with what has worked well for me.

I ask this of all my friends who write, was there a time when you thought. 'This is not going to work!' And thought about giving up?

There were times when I felt terribly frustrated, but I never had thoughts of giving up. I love writing -- it's as much a part of me as my heart is. There are things down inside that are uncomfortable where they are. They want me to let them out into the light, so I do.

Who would you say was your biggest influence?

I would have to say my mother was my biggest influence for my love of poetry and she always encouraged me to write. I was the oldest of six children. When we were small, I can remember my mother entertaining us on a rainy day when we had to stay inside. She was ironing and she recited tongue twisters that we were encouraged to learn. I still love tongue twisters! Anyway, I think that's where my love of rhyme and rhythm, vis a vis poetry, came from.

Would you say you had been influenced by the work of authors, if so who? Or was it the genre that drew you?

Besides my mother's influence, I've always loved reading poetry by poetry greats like Shel Silverstein, Ogden Nash, and several others; however, I would have to say, my inner child is the driving force behind my writing for children and I hope she never grows up!

Have you suffered writers block? If so how did you get past it?

I think everyone suffers writers block at times. I tend to just wait it out -- the writing and inspiration always come back when it's time. With writing, it is what it is. Only a rare few are as prolific as Steven King.

What advice would you give to anyone thinking of writing a book?

Do it. Just do it! Be persistent and never give up -- you have to want it so bad you can taste it.

Before we leave. Is there anything you think I have left out?

No, Alan, you have been very thorough, and more than fair, and I thank you for giving me the opportunity to share my thoughts here for your readers.

I would like to thank you CJ, for your time in answering the questions.

It's been a pleasure!

One more thing:  Would you please give us a couple of examples of your work?

Anatomy of a Poet

Go in through the eyes of a poet
deep into her alphabet mind.
Ideas like flotsam and jetsam
dodge poetry fragments and lines.

Beware the dark shadows of memory,
knife-sharp and bloodied by time,
or gentle, orgasmic and sensual,
swirling eddies, some without rhyme.

Softly notice the spirit in hiding.
Tiptoe past the bruised heart mending there,
knitting poems, pearls strung on a necklace,
unfinished jewels everywhere.

Take note on your tour of this poet
the outside no different you see,
but inside, my God, a passion abyss,
the poet, the woman, the me.

 

Full Circle

A little girl clops in mommy's heels,
her dress, a floppy hat.
The borrowed pearls she's chosen
dangle halfway down her back.
 
Her face a shining rainbow,
ruby lips, cheeks tinted pink,
blue splashes on both eyelids,
powder snowflakes in the sink.
 
She'll go twirling in a ballroom,
a princess with her knight.
Or better still, be mommy
out with daddy Friday night.
 
In a child's imagination
everything is crystal clear,
yet the truth beneath the surface
is revealed in mommy's mirror.
 
That little girl is all grown up,
clothes and shoes are now my size...
but the mirror of maturation
… is my own daughters’ eyes.


CJ Heck is a published author, writer, blogger and poet who lives with her partner, Robert Cosmar, also an author, in The Villages FL. She is also a Vietnam War widow.

CJ has three daughters and eleven grandchildren. For more information, please visit her website, Barking Spiders Poetry, or call 352-299-5634.

Where to find CJ:

http://www.barkingspiderspoetry.com
http://memoirsfromnam.blogspot.com
http://knowingwhispers.blogspot.com
http://amazon.com/author/cjheck
https://plus.google.com/+CJHeck/about/p/pub
http://about.me/cjheck1949
http://www.youtube.com/user/cjheck1949/videos
http://www.facebook.com/cj.heck1
https://www.facebook.com/CJHeckAuthor
http://www.linkedin.com/pub/cj-heck/17/312/b76
http://twitter.com/CJHeck60
http://contributor.yahoo.com/user/1514628/cj_heck.html
http://ezinearticles.com/?expert=CJ_Heck
http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/5308345.C_J_Heck
http://www.jacketflap.com/CJHeck1949


Please visit the Indie Author Network and Alan Ghostman Place!


"A writer soon learns that easy to read is hard to write." ~CJ Heck




Friday, March 2, 2012

Memories of My Dad

My Dad, Joe Parrish
I woke up this morning feeling homesick for my dad. It was only 4:30 in the morning though, and way too early to call him.

At his age, he doesn't hop out of bed quite as easily as he did when I was a child and growing up with all my siblings on Elm Street in Coshocton, Ohio.

When I was a little girl, my dad was ten feet tall. He had all of the answers for all of your questions and he could fix anything that broke.

If you got a boo boo, he would have you soak it in Epsom Salts and it got better -- if it was a cut, he painted it with "daddy's red paint" (Mercurochrome) and the cut got better, too.

In this child's eyes, my dad was the smartest man in the world and he could do anything.

He was a quiet man. It took a lot to make him raise his voice, and believe me when I say, with six children in the house, an assortment of foster kids in and out over the years, plus our friends, you would think he would blow once in awhile, but he kept his cool, no matter what.

I remember when Daddy taught each of us how to drive. We had one cardinal rule which was never to be broken. We had to wear our seat belt. We knew it was because he loved us and wanted us to be safe. We kids all secretly knew that dad would probably petition the church to add a number Eleven to the Ten Commandments: "Thou Shalt Not Forget Thy Seat Belt".

Not to wear a seat belt in our family meant losing our driving privileges for two weeks. If we broke that rule, (we all learned this the hard way) he never said a word. When the guilty party drove home, parked, and got out of the car, Daddy met us at the front door, silently holding his hand out. We didn't have to ask, "Why?" We knew, he knew.

He didn't have to say a word. The rule had come from his heart. We knew, in that one moment, we had broken it and dropped the car keys into his outstretched hand.

I also remember a lesson he taught me when I was about ten, and I never forgot it. In our home, dad did the grocery shopping. Mama made her list and gave it to dad, and then he took one of us along to help him with the grocery bags. This particular day, it was my turn.

When we got to the cash register, the cashier announced that the bill was $122.56. In 1959, that was a lot of money. To a ten year-old, that was at least the price of a new car. Well, I watched the expression on his face turn to firm resolve as he reached into his pocket for his wallet. He took some bills out and handed the money to her.

We put the groceries in the back of our station wagon and I climbed into the front seat for the drive home. On the way, I thought about how expensive it must be, having a big family like ours. I was thinking of ways I could help save money, since he had spent so much at the store.

I remembered all the times I had heard mama or daddy tell us to turn off the TV, or lights, if we weren't using them, and I promised myself I would do a better job. I must have been uncharacteristically quiet, because right about then, daddy asked if I was okay. I told him I was fine, but then I asked, "Daddy, are we poor?"

He reached across the seat and patted me on my arm and said, "No, honey. We're not poor. We're not poor at all. We have everything we need. We just don't have a lot of money."

I've thought about that day so many times in the years since. Dad taught us so many important lessons about life and love.

He would tell us not to try and live life too seriously. When we do that, we miss the real beauty, which is in the small things. Puddles are there for splashing; mud is for making mud pies; mirrors are for making funny faces; and a hug ... well, a hug will fix just about anything that a bandaid won't cover up.

Love is measured in so many precious minutes. It's important we not miss any of them, because who knows, life might be metered in hours.

His message was so clear: everything that mattered, everything that was important, we already had. Love is what's important.

To My Dad, who passed away not long after this blog post was written:

Any man can be a father.
The good ones become dad.
There are papas, pops and pa's
and even my old man,
but only the very special ones
remain forever "daddy".

I love you, Daddy.
You're still ten feet tall ...


"A writer soon learns that easy to read is hard to write." ~CJ Heck




Thursday, March 1, 2012

Memories and Grandchildren ...

Owen

Between the two of us, Robert and I have four children.  All live in four different states, which is why at first we choose to live in central Pennsylvania.

Last weekend, we drove to Connecticut to see two of my daughters and six grandchildren.

Last month, we headed down to North Carolina to visit my youngest daughter and her three children.  They're always whirlwind visits, but I can't complain.  The time we get to spend together is so important and it's always worth the trip.

Tyler and Jack
 As I was having coffee early this morning, I thought about those visits.  I always bring so much more home with me than what I took along when we're with children and grandchildren.  I'm not talking about material things.

What I treasure are the things we share, the memories we make.  It doesn't matter whether I'm sitting on the floor with Jack building a Lego house, reading to Tyler and Halloran, giving out hugs and kisses for heart pockets, or telling Lauren all about the great-grandmother she's the spitting image of.  What we're really doing is creating memories.

Liam, Kev, Colin and Lauren
 I remember the innocence and wonder of childhood.  Who we were as children isn't who we are now, we grow and change, and yet, we are exactly the same.

Time is the only thing that is different.  One day then was as long as twenty days are now.  The things that mattered to then, I still remember, because they matter even more now.

All of my grandparents are gone now, and so are my parents, but the memories we made are always with me.

Andrew
What I remember most about my grandparents was the time they spent with me.  It didn't matter what we were doing.  The talking and sharing while we were doing whatever we did -- that is what was important.  They spent time with me and it felt good.

Will and Matty
 I love watching my grandchildren playing, pretending, or just enjoying being kids.  It brings back so many memories.

Being a child is believing in love and magic, believing that fairies do exist, and it is believing in believing.  

It is pretending to be so little that elves can whisper in our ear, and it's about turning pumpkins into coaches, mice into horses, and nothing into everything, because every child has a fairy godmother in its soul ... and a grandmother for a best friend.

Halloran
Well, Robert and I moved again.  Now we're in Florida, but I can tell you I'm already looking for my next adventure when my grandchildren come for a visit.

I need that -- but what's more important is, they need that even more.



"A writer soon learns that easy to read is hard to write." ~CJ Heck


Sunday, February 19, 2012

Rusty and CJ Write Some Poetry Together

Rusty and Kathleen
I have a poet friend I've known for almost forever.  His name is Rusty Daily and he and his wife, Kathleen, live in Indianapolis.  That's a long way from Florida, and the only reason I've never had the pleasure of meeting them.

Between us, Robert and I have four children in four different states, and that pretty much takes up whatever free time we have, just to visit our kids and grandkids.

But I digress ... I first met Rusty years ago at an online writing community called AuthorsDen.com.  We were both posting poetry for children and often commented on each other's work.

Our tastes were very similar, running everywhere from the silly, insightful, or outright goofy, and somewhere along the way, we started doing some co-writing.

One of us would write a couple of lines as a starter, then email it to the other one.  Back and forth the poem went between us, until it felt right.

I want to share a few of those poems.  Oh, and I've emailed Rusty, to try and nudge him into writing a few more poems with me.  Like me, underneath that senior exterior, he's also just a big silly kid ...


Wedgies
by Rusty and CJ

You know what makes me laugh
and puts me into stitches?
It's when I grab ahold and pull
the waist of someone's britches.

It’s fun. It's called a wedgie
and what a super name,
just pull and yell out WEDGIE!
It‘s really the coolest game.

Hmmm, now who should I get,
lil sissy or my big brother?
Or maybe I should get my dad
but definitely NOT my mother!

And you NEVER do grandmas and grandpas.
To do that you‘d have to be nuts
('cause everyone knows that old people
don't even have any butts).



All By Myself
by Rusty and CJ

I gotta play by myself today
cause Mommy is cleaning and mopping.
Then she’ll be calling a sitter
for when she goes grocery shopping.

The sitter, she’s really boring.
She’s always on the dumb phone,
or painting her nails or combing her hair
so I guess I’ll be playing alone …

I think I will get out my play dough
and make a spaghetti pie.
Or maybe, I'll feed all my dollies
so they won't be fussy and cry.

At two, I’ll watch my TV shows.
Till then, I'll build with my blocks.
When I'm done, I'll pick them all up
(if I can get 'em all back in the box).

Maybe later, my secret friend and me
will draw a picture or two
with all my favorite crayons,
specially the reds, greens and blues.

I really like my toys and games
and my other good stuff … but gee,
I think ALL playing’s is funner
when Mommy is here beside me.



Monster
by Rusty and CJ

After all my books are read,
Mommy says it's time for bed.

Teeth are brushed, all pearly white,
and now I have to go night-night.

Daddy walks me up the stairs,
and helps me say my bedtime prayers.

He fluffs the pillow for my head,
then lifts me up into my bed.

Mommy tucks me in real tight
cause monster visits me at night.

Tippy-toe, the monster hovers,
and tries to slip beneath my covers.

Round my bed the monster dances
waiting for his little chances

to see a gap, then in he'll go
to grab my finger or a toe.

I feel him crawling up my bed!
He's started licking at my head.

If I don't run, I know that he'll
have me for his monster meal.

And in the dark, what's that I see?
Two glowing eyes stare back at me!

Should I yell with all my might
for Dad to come turn on the light?

He might get mad if I did that...
Come here, Monster, you silly cat!



More of our co-written poetry can be found on my website, Barking Spiders Poetry on the CJ and Rusty Poetry Page.  If you enjoyed these, you'll also enjoy the others!


"A writer soon learns that easy to read is hard to write." ~CJ Heck





Wednesday, February 15, 2012

When I Get to Heaven, I'm Gonna Ask ...

"Life is unfair, and it’s not fair that life is unfair." ~Edward Abbey, 1927~1989


Why is it ...



Someday, when I get to heaven, I'm going to ask God a few questions. I've been saving them all up. There are things that really bug me and I've never found answers to them on this human plane called earth.

Why is it that innocent children are allowed to be born to parents who don't give a darn? For the most part, the children raise themselves. They're slapped around and abused, and worse yet, they're shown no love or affection at all by the so-called parents.

Then on the flip side, there are hundreds of thousands of couples who would give most anything they have, just to be able to conceive a child. They wait with unconditional love to pour into a child, if only they were given the opportunity to have one.

Here's another question I'm going to ask. Why is it that prisons are full psychotic people who live long and wasted lives and there are so many men, women and children who die young, their goodness and talents never to be realized, nor shared with the world.

I'm also going to ask: why is it that as women, we spend our lives shaving and waxing various parts of our anatomy to fit in with society's norms and then, when we finally manage to make it to our golden years, the only places hair will even grow is on our heads, our upper lips and our chins? Why is that?

For men it's just as bad. The hair on their heads thins out, or is non-existent, and when they reach their golden years, the only places hair WILL grow -- and profusely, I might add, is on their ears and in their nostrils. Why is that?

Why is it that there are people who don't value life and who hate others, based on religion, sexual orientation, or the color of their skin? They spend their lives planning ways to unleash their hate on innocent people, like with the Twin Towers in New York City. Why is it?

Spiritual counselor, Gary Zukav, says that everything is as it should be. He says things happen for a reason, and that reason is, for our spiritual growth and awareness.

Maybe so, but I'm still going to ask the questions anyway ... 


"A writer soon learns that easy to read is hard to write." ~CJ Heck



Thursday, February 9, 2012

A Warning About Stalkers

Authors and Speakers: 
Do Not List Your Appearance Schedules Online

This article is being written to all who do, or are planning to do, any type of public speaking engagements. It is based on a negative experience I had several years ago when I lived in New Hampshire. I learned from it, and I want you to learn from it.

My reason for writing it is to help other authors and public speakers so they won't have a similar experience.

I belong to many online social, book, and writing communities. In some of them, there is a special place allotted to authors for posting upcoming appearance schedules -- and they're encourage to do so. This includes dates, venues, and times, and all are visible to the public.

While I understand the purpose, and realize their intentions are honorable, my future schedule is something I'm hesitant to post now and I would like to caution other authors not to do it. Here is why...

Do Not Post Speaking Engagements Online
I've had my website, Barking Spiders Poetry, since 1998, even before my first book of the same title came out in 2000.

Once the book was published and released to the public, I created a separate page on my website dedicated solely to my upcoming book signings, poetry workshops, speaking engagements, interviews, and author school visits.

A problem arose quite suddenly and lasted for a couple of months.

Everywhere I went, to any of my speaking engagements, or personal appearances, I noticed a man lurking along the sidelines. It didn't matter whether it was at a bookstore signing, a school visit, or eventually, even in a different town and state.

Wherever I went, whatever the event, the same man was somewhere in the room within eyesight, standing and silently watching.

At first, I thought he was merely a devoted fan, or maybe a reporter, but when he followed me to another state, I realized something very different.  I had a stalker.

Do Not Post School Visit Dates and Places Online
Be extra careful, authors and public speakers. The venue, time and date of your appearances should already be advertised by the school, bookstore, (or any other place you will be appearing), in their town's paper and in the local media (TV and radio).

I can't caution you enough to be wary of also posting the same information online.

Stalkers stalk you first online. You can never be too careful ...

Best wishes for safe speaking ...

CJ

Barking Spiders Poetry Website - CJ Heck Books


"A writer soon learns that easy to read is hard to write." ~CJ Heck



Saturday, February 4, 2012

Who the Heck is CJ Heck?

Who the heck is CJ Heck?

With a bored sigh, you probably think, "Oh, she writes children's poetry ... just like hundreds of other children's poets."

My Inner Child
I've been told that my poetry IS different.  I don't write what I think children should read, or what I think they want to read.

I write poetry from a child's point of view, (probably because my own inner child is doing the writing), and it addresses many different issues that children have.

My inner child remembers what children think and wonder about in the world around them. What were we frightened of? What did we think was funny, sad, puzzling, or scary, and what made us most angry?

I love writing all kinds of poetry, but my favorite is, and always will be, poetry for children.

There is nothing as powerful as the truth and gentle honesty of a child. They have such an innocent view of their world and surroundings, sometimes with thought-provoking insight. That is what I love writing about, and from their point of view.

Please visit Barking Spiders Poetry

Pull up a chair, get comfy, put a child on your lap, and have a look.

I think you'll be surprised.  I'm really not like the other children's poets 'out there' ... and, who knows, just maybe you'll get reacquainted with your own inner child again.
 
~Hugs to all, 
CJ


"A writer soon learns that easy to read is hard to write." ~CJ Heck

Tuesday, January 24, 2012

Heartbeats



Heartbeats 


What if we're born with 
a predetermined number
of heartbeats 
and, when they're gone, 
we're gone? 

Just in case it's true,
I'm not going to waste mine 
running down some road 
in silly spandex pants
and a jog bra.

I'm going to make my 
thumping little tickets last
as many years as I can, 

especially since
at my age, 
I've already used up 
a hell of a lot them
just getting here. 

I'll spread the rest out. 
I'll save them 
for what's important, 
like running away from 
something (or someone) bad. 

I also intend to use a lot of them 
for making love. 

If life really is a journey 
and not a destination, 
I might as well enjoy myself 
along the way ... 


CJ Heck



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