The Soapbox Derby

Our three-story duplex commands a spectacular view of town from where it's been for years on top of a steep hill here on West Long Avenue, known as "Pollock Hill" by the townies. As a matter of fact, from our upstairs bathroom window, you can see the rainbow of soapbox derby cars parked between the freshly painted lines up the street on the curved curb.

I remember excitedly watching the soapbox derby as a child growing up in Coshocton, Ohio. I was such a tomboy during those younger years. I was always more comfortable up in a tree building a tree house, or with a hammer and nails helping daddy with one of his projects, than playing dolls with my sisters and friends. I was usually barefoot with bandaids covering my stubbed toes and skinned knees, and dirty from digging for pirate treasure. No, I was never a girly-girl.

I would have given my left leg to have been allowed by the derby folks to build a soapbox car and then race it. In those days, only boys were allowed in the derby. But I remember being there watching it and imagining ... and sitting there in the grass, I could almost feel the wind against my cheek as I headed downhill at full-speed towards the black and white painted finish line.

Last year was the first year I got to watch a soapbox derby as an adult. It was my first year here in DuBois in this house. Imagine my excitement when on derby race day, I awoke to the clamor of voices and cheering and trucks as they hauled the race cars back up to the top of the hill for their second heat. When I looked out my bathroom window, I was astonished.

As I dressed to go outside and watch, I was suddenly that little tomboy again, filled with the sweet joy, the awe and wonder of the soapbox derby. I couldn't believe my eyes when I saw the number of girls wearing derby numbers on their shirts. At last! How exciting it was for me to cheer as they did get to feel the wind on their cheeks as they raced downhill full-speed toward the finish line ...

Oops, I've gotta go! This year, the derby is today and it's nearly time. I have to go get dressed. Then, I'll just walk out my front door ... 'n be a kid again.

A Good Morning

Jack

"Our grandchildren accept us for ourselves, without rebuke or effort to change us, as no one in our entire lives has ever done, not our parents, siblings, spouses, friends -- and hardly ever our own grown children."  ~Ruth Goode


I was just thinking ... what could possibly be better than Christmas, a warm spring day, the gentle sound of rain, the first cup of coffee in the morning, walking barefoot on a beach and holding hands, the blue-blue-blue of the Caribbean, the first snow of winter, the sweet smell of freesia ...

It could only be the warm and fuzzy feelings I enjoy when I'm with my children and grandchildren.

Robert and I have a few things to get done yet this morning and then we're off to Connecticut. We've been invited to my three-year old grandson, Jack's, "birf-day pah-tee".

So, I'm going to be a little scarce, until we return on Sunday evening, but I'm sure you'll understand.

After all, what could possibly be better ...

"Gram-mee, you're not old. You're ... you're special, like a cupcake with frostin' onna top ..."

Ya gotta love 'em.

Hugs,
CJ

The Innocent Voyeur

An Innocent Voyeur

Being an author is having angels whisper in your ear - and devils, too. ~Graycie Harmon

Not all writing is easy to understand, especially when it comes to poetry.

A poem and it's meaning is subjective, and depends on the whim and mood of its creator.

We are taught to show, rather than tell, when we write and to make the poem have both voice and rhythm, even when it doesn't rhyme.

We're taught to invite the reader the freedom to bring their thoughts and feelings to the poem and make of it whatever they may.

I love writing poetry -- there's a burning need to write. My thoughts and words are uncomfortable where they are. They seek the validation of flowing through my fingers.

The following poem was born from my overactive imagination. I was on a walk one evening and I passed an old Victorian home.  As I was standing there admiring its beautiful lines, I noticed a window on the third floor. The slats in the blinds were either broken, or just bent and gaping from age.

The house next door had a window straight across from it, but below on the second floor. It was easy to see how a peeping tom, even an innocent one, would have an unobstructed view into the the window below.

The Innocent Voyeur
by CJ Heck

An old man glances
through a window
to one in the building below.

Through slats awry
in seduction's haste,
candlelight strobes on
sweat-glistened bodies.

He watches, transfixed,
lewd images through the blinds,
eyes too frozen to obey.

(Turn away! Go to bed!)

Two bodies move, unaware
of the innocent intrusion.
He watches, aroused,
passion rising in two rooms now.

A goddess bent over a sofa,
Adonis behind
in the flickering light.
A conqueror
and a conquest.

Memories of his own youth
rekindle and burn
and the old man cries.

Bittersweet memories
haunt through the blinds
and he cries.


[From the book, "Anatomy of a Poet", by CJ Heck]


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

Breakfast in Bed:

Ahh, kids, ya gotta love 'em ... and I do. I so love their innocence and their unbridled joy in just being alive.

One of my grandsons, Jack, turns three this coming weekend. He's so adorable -- about as smart as they come -- and he's a good boy, too. Robert and I are driving to Connecticut for the weekend. We're looking forward to having some warm and fuzzy time with my daughter, her husband, and Jack and Tyler, (his little brother). Of course, we're also going to attend Jack's birf-day pah-tee on Saturday.

To quote Jack: "Gram-mee, you comin' to my birfday pahtee? I'm gonna be free yizz ode!" (He was so excited. How could I ever say no?)

I remember a birthday, a long time ago, when my girls were about five, seven and nine. It was the very first time they brought me breakfast in bed. They were so proud of themselves and, like Jack with his birf-day exuberance, when they brought their surprise in to wake me, there was pure joy on their faces as they stood there smiling and giggling in anticipation.

Breakfast in Bed
(from the book "Barking Spiders, Too")
by CJ Heck

Wake up, Mommy Mommy.
We’ve got a BIG surprise.
Me and Sissy made you breakfast.
Please, open up your eyes.

Here’s the paper from the porch,
just in case you want to read.
Please wake up and put your glasses on
so your eyes can see.

There’s cereal with milk on it
and toast with butter, too.
(Sissy scraped the black stuff off).
We made it all for YOU.

We didn’t make the coffee,
but, Mommy, that’s okay
‘cause me and Sissy found some
in the pot from yesterday.

Our eggs look kind of funny,
not like the ones you make.
Ours are way too slickery.
They keep sliding off the plate.

We’re sorry there’s no muffin,
but there weren’t any more.
Well ... the one that WAS left over
got smushed on the kitchen floor.

There used to be a donut,
it was right there on the plate.
Me and Sissy got real hungry,
but it’s the ONLY thing we ate.

When it comes to making breakfast,
there's a LOT of work to do,
but we made it just to show you
Mommy Mommy, we love you.


I was so proud of them. I didn't care that the breakfast wasn't perfect. It was perfect for me -- I felt their love and that's what really matters.

Have a great day! ~CJ

A Butterfly's Lesson

Child and a Butterfly

Occasionally, we are given a serendipitous gift.  Life puts a simple event in our hands and, if we recognize it as such, we can use it to teach a valuable lesson. Sometimes, even one of the biggest lessons can come from one of the smallest, most beautiful things in nature.

The important thing is, when we're given a special chance to teach our children, to see and feel it with our hearts.


A Butterfly's Lesson
by CJ Heck

"Oh Mama look, a flutterby!"
(her tiny hand held it out to me)
She grasped it firmly in her fist,
afraid to set it free.

Lovingly I showed her
one of life's most painful tests ...
sometimes the ones we love the most
we hurt more than the rest.

The butterfly was still alive,
although its wings were bent
this tiny miracle of grace,
its rainbow all but spent.

The magic dust was there to see.
Tears welled up in her eyes.
I hugged her to me and explained
that real love never dies.

We spoke that day of letting go,
of holding love less tightly.
To hold it gently in our hearts
shows love much more, when lightly.

That day when she was very small,
we more than mourned a butterfly.
We shared a magic, tender moment.
I'll always thank the flutterby.


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

FORBIDDEN LOVE: by Geoff Pirie

Today, I've the sincere pleasure of introducing the work of Geoff Pirie twice.

I think you'll agree, he's a talented and spiritually moving writer.

I first met him on Facebook and, after reading some of the beautiful things he posted there, instantly became a fan of his gentle, romantic style of writing.

And now, Geoff Pirie ...


FORBIDDEN LOVE:
by Geoff Pirie

I live through my dark existence;
Only to bask in your beauty;
Your eyes shine like sapphires;
Your smile brightens my day:
Oh, how I envy the wind
 that runs through your hair
and touches your lips;
I long to hold you in my arms....
but I cannot;
For your heart belongs to another;
So as I love you from afar;
More than anything this world provides:
Like an angel...
you have touched my heart;
I have never felt a love like this before;
I saw the night sky clearing
when you spread your rainbow wings;
You kissed away my tears
and sheltered my heart:
But then I grew fearful;
For I had fallen in love;
I cried for the friendship
I thought I had lost;
Then felt your gentle hand in mine:
As you whispered
soft words of comfort
straight to my heart;
These camouflaged emotions;
Pain...and silent cries;
Yet...still I cannot tell you:
These feelings so cathartic;
I tremble when I'm near you;
Cant you see it in my eyes?
Forbidden pleasures...
Who makes these rules?

Geoff Pirie:Copyright © May 2010:


Thank you most sincerely, Geoff ~CJ


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

Short Story: The Way Home

by Robert Cosmar

One day, God sat with three of His friends waiting for the return of two of his creations, Man and Woman. He had three special gifts He wanted to give to them.

As the two creations approached, a big smile came to God's face, but He also sensed that something was wrong. The creations were hiding something. He could tell. Still, God decided to keep His own counsel and not say anything. He wanted to see what would happen.

"Hello Father" said the two almost at the same time, as they approached. “We would like you to meet some friends we brought along with us. We met them on our journey.

"Fine," said God as He looked at them. He loved them both dearly and wanted only the best for them. "Where are they?" God asked.

The two were so nervous that they forgot to check what had happened to their new companions. Looking around, they spotted them hiding behind some rocks. Excitedly, they waved and motioned for the new friends to come closer. Timidly, each one came from behind the rocks, or crawled out from under the rubble that lay along the path.

God frowned as He saw them approach. He knew all too well who they were, but realized that by granting His creations freedom, they were free to choose their friends.

 Slowly, the five new friends approached God and his two creations.

"Father, I would like you to meet our new friends. This is Pride. This one is Reason. Here is Logic. This is Ego, and the shy one is Fear." said the male creation, as if he were seeking approval from God.

"I see," said God," and where did you meet them?" He asked.

"Well, after You gave us the freedom to explore Your kingdom and learn what we could, they just ... well, appeared." The male creation answered.

"Yes, we became confused and anxious one day as we walked and talked between ourselves. We began to wonder who we were inside." The female creation stated.

God smiled at them, while at the same time, their companions sought to hide behind them and shield themselves from any direct contact with God. "Well this changes everything," said God, with a knowing look in His eyes.

The two creations looked surprised and a bit stunned. "What do you mean?" they asked.

"Well, I had three valuable gifts to give you both, but now I cannot give them to you," said God.

Sadness filled their hearts as they felt an inexplicable loss within their being.

"But, continued God with a compassionate smile, you can choose to receive them because you have your own freedom to choose.

The two creations began to beam, their faces alight with smiles. (God always gave great gifts).

"However," said God, “there is a choice you will have to make."

The smiles turned to concern and uneasiness as they realized for the first time that they would have to make a decision and the responsibility would be on their shoulders. Up to this time, they were always used to God giving them everything.

"My gifts will have nothing to do with your friends. It is not that My gifts harbor any ill will towards your friends, but rather, it is that they have nothing in common with them," said God.

"Well, can we see Your gifts and may we talk to them?" asked the two.

"I am sorry, My children, I cannot do that. You will have to trust Me and decide for yourselves," said God

A perplexed look came over their faces and for the first time they felt an inner alienation from God. They had always let Him decide and now they were going to have to choose. Not knowing what to do, they decided to confer with their new friends.

God watched and knew what would happen. It was inevitable. It was necessary. For them to know the importance of His gifts, they had to experience the freedom to go their own way. They needed a reference point from which to compare His gifts against their choices.

A short time passed and then they spoke. "Father, we have decided to go with our friends. We will discuss Your offer in more detail with them. They have some excellent suggestions and we think we need more time to explore them."

"Fine," said God. I will even create a world for you in which time exists. This will be a place where you can be away from My influence and learn from your friends. But, I warn you, there is a danger there. In that world, you could forget how to contact Me and you might not remember My gifts for you."

The two looked worried, but their new friends assured them they would be beside them so they would not feel alone.

"Have you reached your decision?" asked God.

"Yes, Father, we want to go to the new world with our friends," they answered.

"Very well, children. I would like you to meet My gifts now," God told them.

"This is Wisdom. Over here is Understanding, and this one is Knowledge. They are My closest counselors and they help Me in all that I do.

I was prepared to share them with you, but you have chosen otherwise. You will now experience the freedom to choose, along with your friends’ counsel, in the place you have chosen.

Remember what I have told you about the danger of forgetting these gifts. I have placed a longing in your hearts, which will grow weary, in time. You will create and discover many things in your new world, children, but they will not last.

So you will not despair, I am giving you yet another companion to help you remember your true hearts. This one is called Death."

"What is Death, Father?" asked the two creations.

"It is a friend of Fear, over there. Death will also help you to remember what is really important and expose the true nature of your friends’ counsel to you. It will help your hearts to seek Wisdom, Understanding and Knowledge and they, in turn, will help you remember Me and seek your true home again.

The two creations smiled wanly at each other as they turned and walked away from God with their new friends. It seemed with each step, a loneliness filled them. Something was leaving them and they could not understand what it was.

Fear, Pride, Ego, Reason and Logic all explained that it was okay, because they were with them. Soon they arrived at the place with time that God had created for them. The lonely feeling left and was eventually replaced by excitement for the beauty and abundant possibilities they found in this new world.

Together, all of them discussed great plans and shared new ideas about this world and what they might do there. Nonetheless, something was missing. They missed God and, over time, they realized they had forgotten how to even contact Him, just like He said would happen. They even forgot where He was and what He looked like, so they made up stories to hold the memory, so to speak.

But, even the stories did not help them. Something was missing in the stories and fables. While they distracted the mind, the very core of their being felt lost, alone, and very empty.

As the years went by, Fear and Death at times would remind them of their emptiness, but they would just talk to Reason and Logic and forget again. It was even worse for their children, because they grew up with only the stories about God. They had never had the experience of His presence. Their despair was far greater.

Finally, in their later years, and with the help of Death, they began to see that Pride, Logic, Reason, Ego and Fear had lied to them all along. They had promised a fulfillment they could not deliver. God had been right!

A horrible despair filled them both as they saw the choices of their life and realized the dire consequences. But while Death was showing them the truth of their condition, he also reminded them of the promise that God had given them with Death. They were to remember their hearts and that Wisdom, Understanding and Knowledge were there to lead them home again to God.

Tears filled their eyes as they realized that all their striving had been in vain. Through all the years they had been away from God. Nothing had ever really mattered, except Wisdom, Understanding, Knowledge and knowing the way back home.


Robert S. Cosmar is a writer, blogger and the author of four books.

The Magic of Love and Intimacy
Awareness: Being Fully Alive
Trilogy of Awareness
Big Little Book of Whispers

Visit Robert's Blog


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

Author School Visits: For Authors

School Visit

I'm often asked what constitutes a good author school visit.

From the school's point of view, they want to know what they can do to make it a success.

From an author's point of view, it runs more toward asking this question, "What should I expect and how can I make it a success?"

I'm certainly no expert, but I can talk a little bit about what (in my experience, anyway) works, and what doesn't. For this reason, today I will concentrate on school visits for authors. 

In another blog post, I will concentrate on what schools can expect and what they can do to make an author's school visit a success.

Address as Much as Possible When You First Set Up Your School Visit:

* Be honest and open about what you will do and what you will charge. State your daily rate and the number of presentations you will do for that rate. If you are only able to do two presentations per day, for example, make that clear in your first conversation with the school.

* Be clear about what you charge for traveling, room and/or board, and any other expenses you will incur.

* Find out when you will be paid, i.e., the day of the school visit, or in the case of Title One, how long you will have to wait for their approval and your check.

* Find out whether the local media (radio, TV, newspapers) will be contacted about your school visit, whether they will attend, and whether time will be set aside during that day for interviews and taking photos.

* Create an invoice with name, address and phone number of school, the name of your contact there, all charges, and the total for your school visit. Make sure your invoice also has your personal contact information. Mail it to the school, but on the day of the school visit, make sure you bring along a backup copy, just in case.

* Decide how book sales will be handled, i.e., when and where you will sign books, who will collect the money, if you will be discounting the retail price of your book(s), whether they will allow you to take pre-orders for books prior to the school visit.

* Tell the school what props you will need for your author visit, i.e., bottled water, coffee, easel, chalkboard and chalk, chair, stool, rocking chair, rug to sit on, microphone, podium, etc.

* Find out where your presentations will be, i.e., auditorium (stage), cafeteria, library, classrooms. Talk to the school about the maximum number of students you would be comfortable speaking to -- very important.

* Find out where you should park and what time you should arrive at the school to set up.

* Ask for your school visit schedule as soon as they can give you one, so you can plan, i.e., how long the school has allotted for each presentation, the ages of each group so you can modify your presentation, (should you need to), and to plan when you will sign books (During lunch break? After the last presentation?).

* Keep accurate records (copies of everything) for IRS: the total for the entire school visit, i.e., amount you received for the actual day, or days, of presentations, number of books sold and the dollar amount, any expenses incurred that were not paid to you, or for you, by the school.

* After you get home, be sure and send a "Thank You" note to your contact and to the school.

If you think of any questions you may have about things I haven't addressed here, please feel free to either call, or email me. I'm always happy to help in any way I can.

Happy School Visit!
Hugs,
CJ


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