What to do About You

A Short Story
by CJ Heck

Jessie sat at her keyboard, staring at the small black words racing across the white screen. She had only met Donald six weeks ago, but she had to admit, it had been a wild ride.  She was both intrigued and enamored. He seemed genuine, although, can anyone ever truly know someone they've only known online?

Jessie read his lovely thoughts and felt the familiar surge of emotion as he deftly fashioned each keystroke into another perfectly worded seduction. She had to smile. Donald was very much an artist, only his canvas was the heart, his medium, words.

When he finally stopped typing, she sensed he awaited her reply. Gathering up her thoughts and all of the questions that had been nagging at her, she began ... "Donald, do I know you? I mean, do I really, really know you? Sometimes I'm sure I do -- at times, I think I even know you better than you know yourself. But there are other times, like right now, when I'm sure I don't know you at all."

Jessie hesitated a little too long and Donald began typing again. "Sweetie Pie, you have to go with the flow. You know me, Baby, you know you do. Someday, we'll be together, I promise.  But just for now, this is what we have. Talk to me, Sunshine. You know you feel it, the love.  I know I do."

Jessie took a deep breath, stretched her mind along with her fingers, and began to fill the screen with her own thoughts to send across the miles. "Something is happening, Donald, I will agree.  Your words have caught me up in something big and, yes, we've made a real connection here in a very short time. But is this love? I don't know -- how can I know? We've never even seen each other in person.  Why is that, Donald?"

Jessie paused to collect her thoughts and immediately, Donald's words appeared on the screen.  "C'mon now, Babe, you know I love you. This is how everyone should fall in love. You and me, we've learned to know and love each other on the inside first -- this way, looks can't get in the way. We love each other for who we are, not how we appear.  Get a grip, Babe."

If only Donald would say the words she needed most to hear: "I can't wait another minute. I'm getting on a plane this afternoon. I need you and I want to be with you. I want to look deep in your eyes and see the love I feel reflected back. I feel like I'll die if I can't hold you close and breathe you in, and fill up my very soul with you. I love you, Jessie, and I can't live without you for another day."

Jessie knew she would never hear those words, but still she tried once more, "Donald, do you really know me? I'm sure you'll say you do, but I believe you only think you know me because I'm a writer and you've read some of my writings -- but those are only little parts of me, just thoughts I've sheared off to rhyme or not rhyme. But that's not knowing -- at least I don't think it is.  Donald, we need to talk about what's important."

Jessie didn't stop typing this time. Her fingers flew. "One thing I do know, Donald.  Your wants and desires scare the hell out of me sometimes and all my instincts tell me to run and never look back. Why won't you come and see me? I need to hold you. Don't you feel that, too? Where do we go from here, Donald? What do I do about you?"

Jessie stopped.  Now she watched as Donald's thoughts filled her screen one last time. He was smooth, she would give him that. But now, reading fast so the tears wouldn't blur the words, she read something much different than what she needed, "Geez oh man, Jess, what the hell?  Of course I know you -- it's too bad you feel like that.  You know how I feel about you, Baby, but you're moving too fast for me.  Maybe we shouldn't see each other anymore ..."

Jessie had seen enough. The last words she read before clicking the Power Off button were,  "... so I'm sure you understand.  Just remember, Babe, it's your loss ..."

My Youngest Child

This morning, I was thinking about one particular day when I was young. I remember my Gramma had come to visit from out of town -- always a special treat. On the second day she was there, I saw this far away look in her eyes and just the hint of a smile. When I asked her what she was thinking about, she told me, “Oh, I was just thinking back a-ways, that’s all, sweet girl.” Gramma looked happy and I thought at the time, that’s what it must be like when you get old. You think about the past a lot.

It’s funny, I’ve never thought of myself as being old, but this morning as I was enjoying my first cup of coffee, (light cream, no sugar, thanks), I caught myself doing the very same thing. My thoughts had wandered “back a-ways …” I had gone back to a time when I was a young mother, and I was thinking about my youngest daughter, Heather, when she was three.

At the time, we were living in Woburn, Massachusetts. What a sweet and outgoing little girl she was, and still is now, even more so. She was a beautiful child and petite -- actually, she was considered tiny, by height and weight standards in those days. At three, she had only a few blond wisps of hair, and with her diminutive size, she looked much younger than her age.

I remember one special visit to the grocery store. I had just delivered her two older sisters to preschool, and Heather and I went to the grocery to pick up a few items. I seat-belted her securely into the child seat in my grocery cart. We were giggling at the cart, the cart I always seemed to get. It had a wheel with a mind of its own, turning mindlessly every which way while making a whomp-wiggle-wiggle -whomp-wiggle-wiggle sound.

We were still giggling as we whomp-wiggle-wiggled into the line to pay. Then it was our turn for the cashier to ring up our groceries. The cashier was smiling, and watching Heather who was still giggling. “Awww, she’s so sweet! How old is your baby?” She asked me.

I was about to tell her, but Heather replied, “I’m Heather and I’m not a baby, I’m three. Mommy is 31. Did you hear our wheel? It’s funny! What’s your name?”

... and she's still precocious ... I love you, Heather!

Buying North American

Last week, I posted an article someone sent me about buying overseas products. I don't know if you read it, but I've been checking the labels on everything I buy since I read it. I believe it's important -- I feel I have to do something to help the economy, even if it's something small. Small, to me, is better than nothing at all.

Today, I got another email. This one is from a Canadian about buying only North American products, but it sends another clear message. Let's get out heads out of the sand and do our part, people ...

"Think About What We Buy

For example, the "Our Family" brand of mandarin oranges says right on the can, "from China", but for a few cents more, you can buy "Liberty Gold" or "Dole" from California.

Also watch buying pickles. A lot of the no-name pickles come from India. "Bick's" are from Canada, and they're worth the small difference in price.

Another example is canned mushrooms. The no-name brand is from Indonesia. Right next to them on the shelf, is the "President Choice" brand. This is a product of Canada. That's what went into my grocery bag.

Also check those little fruit cups we give our children. They use to be made here in Canada in the Niagara region until about 2 years ago. They are now packaged in China!

The Chinese have exported inferior, even toxic, products and dangerous toys and goods to be sold in North American markets. The media wrings its hands and criticizes the Obama Administration and the Harper Government for perceived errors. 70% of North Americans believe that trading privileges afforded to the Chinese should just be suspended.

Well, DUH ... why do WE need to wait for the North American governments to suspend trading privileges? We should simply do it ourselves!

Take the time to look on the bottom of every product you buy. If it says "Made in China" or "PRC" (that now includes Hong Kong), either choose another product, or none at all. You'll be amazed at how dependent we've become on Chinese products -- AND you'll be equally amazed at what you can do without.

Do we really need plastic eggs to celebrate Easter? If you must have eggs, use real ones. Let's benefit the North American farmers. Easter is just one example, the point is, let's not wait for the government to act. Let's go ahead and take back control and send a message of our own as consumers.

Canadian Thermos bottles were made here in Canada for many years. Thermos sold out in the 1990's. Now the bottles that keep our food hot or cold are now made in China! We Canadians
lost about 200 jobs!

Think About This:

If 200 million North Americans refuse to buy just $20 each of Chinese goods, that's a 4 billion dollar trade imbalance resolved in our favor, fast! Is there a downside? Some Canadian and American businesses will feel a temporary pinch from having foreign stockpiles of inventory.

The solution? We can give them fair warning and send our own message. Most of the people reading about this matter are already planning, for one month, not to purchase anything made in China. That's only one month of trading losses, but it will hit the Chinese for 1/12th of the total, or 8%, of their North American exports. Then they will at least have to ask themselves if the benefits of their arrogance, careless production and lawlessness are worth it.

Even better, start now and don't stop -- read the labels on everything you buy in every store you shop in. Spread this message to everyone you know. Let's show them all, the governments AND the foreigners, that we are intelligent North Americans, and NO ONE will take us for granted.

On the other hand, if we can't live without cheap imported goods for one month out of our lives, we deserve everything we get."

Related articles

• You: U.S. dollar edges lower versus rivals (menafn.com)
• Canadian firms now trading in renminbi (theglobeandmail.com)
• Canfor sees long-term market in China (reuters.com)

My Other World

by CJ Heck

There's another
world I visit
in my sleep
when the day's
constraints
are unbuttoned
and unzipped,
cast off to
crowd the laundry
in the hamper.
My pillow, like
a giant sponge,
sops up the
stress and worry,
spilling from an ear
or from my
cluttered mind.
There, life
is always fair
and good guys
finish first,
so my number
nearly always
wins the prize.
I fly on dragons,
a super hero,
or take magic carpet
rides, reading minds
and casting spells,
solving problems,
even mine.
Asleep, I'm safe,
and time
stands still.
Wrinkles are gone,
varicose veins
now beauty marks.
Mirrors are kind.
They say
I'm the fairest
in the land
and never
show me silver
in my hair,
while tiny genies
in my lamp
grant every wish.
That world
is a haven,
where I can live
in fairy tales,
or Peter Pan
in Neverland,
and watch as
angels weave
magic into love
and happy endings.

School Visit Article: THE DAILY PRESS

'Barking Spiders' Author, CJ Heck, Shares Poetry with Students
The Daily Press, St. Mary's, PA
by Amy Cherry

Poet and children's author,
C.J. Heck, of DuBois, PA,
recently met with Fox Twp.
Elementary School students
during a series of presentations,
sharing her children's poetry
with K thru 5th grade students.




Fox Township Elementary School students recently enjoyed a visit by children's poet, C.J Heck, of DuBois.  As the author of the children's poetry book, "Barking Spiders and Other Such Stuff," Heck was invited to speak to students about her work.  Christine Kuhar, Fox Twp. Elementary principal, said the book is very popular among the school's students.

During her interactive presentations, Heck read from her book of poems, as well as selections from the soon-to-be published "Barking Spiders, Too" and "Me, Too, Preschool Poetry" books.  In addition, CJ discussed the background for some of the poems and told some of the classes where her inspiration for the poems comes from and why she writes from a child's point of view.

She also taught the students a tongue twister, which she learned from her mother at a young age.  Students were very entertained as they attempted a difficult tongue twister -- here is only one part from it: "Could ya, would ya, honey please, will ya, won't ya, can't ya, don't ya wanna? Gee ya said ya would ..."

In concluding her presentations, Heck always leaves time for questions from inquisitive students. According to Heck's answers to some of the questions, she wrote her first poem in the fourth grade, stating that her teacher made the experience very exciting. She has been actively writing since 1975.  Much of the content of her work was inspired by things her siblings said or did while they were growing up in Coshocton, Ohio, and later, her three daughters inspired her further. Now at 61 (I know, because one of the students asked her how old she is), Heck gets her inspiration from her nine grandchildren, and she told the students she even tests her newest poems out on them.

When one student questioned Heck as to why she wanted to become an author, Heck replied that she didn't start out wanting to be an author.  "I just liked writing poems. My middle daughter encouraged me to do something with all the poems I had written," Heck said.  She also encouraged the students: "You can all be authors. Just work at it and don't ever give up.  If it's what you want, be persistent.  When you have an idea, write it down right away. I have written ideas on napkins, menus, church bulletins and even on my hand."

Heck interacts with youth of all ages during her numerous school visits with preschool up to eighth grade students. She also conducts poetry workshops and participates in book fairs, library visits and programs for adult audiences.

This year, Heck hopes to get two or three more books published, including a preschool poetry book entitled, "Me Too, Preschool Poetry" and the aforementioned "Barking Spiders, Too."  Her current book was published by SterlingHouse in 2000, and it's still available at all of the major online retailers, her website store,  and The Book Nook in Punxsutawney, PA. People interested in her work or having her visit their school may also visit her website Barking Spiders Poetry for Children.

Children & School Visits

Children are so Forgiving if you Goof Up

Want to know what my favorite part is about doing an author school visit?

EVERYthing!  I love every part of it.

Even my inner child loves doing school visits -- it gives her a chance to get out, stretch her legs, exercise her sense of humor, and be among people her own age for a little while.

Of course, I have to rein her in every now and then -- she takes such liberties, at times -- tsk tsk, you know how children can be ...

What surprises me is how many children's authors I've met who have no interest in doing an author school visit. They don't know the fun they're missing. For me, it's the icing on the cake. It's the best part about being a children's author.

Writing the book was the hard part; finding a publisher was right up there with hard, but more of a pain in the butt than anything else. School visits are the best part of being published.

In talking with some authors, it comes down to speaking to a group, any group. Doesn't matter how old the group is, they don't want to do it. I guess I have to respect that ... to each his own. What they don't seem to realize is, children are so honest and trusting. They hold you in awe and high regard because you "wrote a book" -- jeepers, they don't even care what kind of book! They only know that you wrote it, so they trust that you must be 'pretty special'.

Children are also very forgiving if you goof up. As long as you still own the ability to laugh at yourself, goofing up isn't a problem, it's actually a positive, and can be an ice-breaker, if the ice hasn't already been broken by the time you goof up.

School Visit, Worcester, MA

I don't know how many times over the years I've screwed up a line from one of my own poems. Solution: make a silly face, say the line the way it should be said, and say something like: "Oh man, I sure screwed that up, didn't I? I don't even know my own poem! Sorry 'bout that." And then laugh -- they'll laugh right along with you.

Bada-Bing-Bada-BOOM.  Forgiven.

So, if you're a children's author who doesn't yet do school visits, please reconsider. Send me an email if you need more information, or call me and I'll give you a pep talk. (The number is on here somewhere).

It's fun signing autographs between presentations. It's wonderful getting hugs at the end of a long day, and it feels really good to walk down the hall and have children smile, wave, or call out your name ...


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

My Inner Child: A School Visit Morning

My Children's Books

On an author school visit day, I set the alarm for 5:00 a.m.

Then I say to myself what Ron White always says, "It's gonna be a good day today, Tater."

Most mornings start out pretty much the same at our house.

Robert and I have coffee together first, then we write our blogs and post them; then I post one of the veteran's articles on Memoirs From Nam, answer emails, approve comments, answer them, and then I'm ready to settle in and write, or edit, while Robert heads off to work.

On mornings when I have a school visit, there's so much more to do. I need a good hour with my coffee, check the internet for a few minutes, answer emails, and then I have to get busy.

I have to put my contacts in, take a shower, get dressed, pack up the car ... but before I do any of that, I have to do something else, first ...

I have to wake up my inner child.  I never do a school visit without her. She's not far away, though -- she's down inside, patiently waiting for the wake up call.

I have to give credit where credit is due. She's the one who really loves doing the school visits and she does most of the work, too, although we each have our jobs to do in the presentations. But, she's the one who gets the adrenalin pumping -- I'm just happy she lets me share the fun.

I also have to set aside some time to make sure I have everything else that goes with me (us):

• books (weeks before, I take a pre-order from schools and their students) 
• brochures 
• book marks 
• doorknob signs
• spider treasure boxes
• stickers

A few years ago, one librarian at a school visit presented me with a HUGE paper mache spider.  He looks exactly like the comical, colorful spider on my book.

She painted his body blue, his head red, the long legs are white, and to finish him, she glued on these large "google eyes". She even fashioned the web he "hangs" from, out of a piece of wire.

He's adorable and I treasure him. Now he comes with me (us) on every school visit, like a mascot.  My inner child and the kids at the schools adore him.

So, once the check list is done, I remind myself once again, "Yep, it's gonna be a good day today, Tater ..."

Happy School Visiting!
CJ


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

Winter and Snow

Anyone else tired of snow? I don't know, I guess my bones are just getting too, well, not old exactly, just plenty tired of the cold and winter weather. When bones graduate to the senior division, that seems to be when they get ... tired.  At least for me.

The first snowfall of the season ... that's okay. That's truly beautiful. I can stand at the window and watch the first snowfall all day long. It kinda looks like a post card out there and it's joyfully nostalgic. When it becomes all black with dirt and turns to slush, that's when it can go bye bye for the rest of the winter, for all I care ... (where's my ticket to the Keys?)  As I always say, I can visit snow if I miss it.  I have two daughters up in New England and grandchildren there I can play in the snow with ... on a visit.

When I was a child, it was different. I could hardly wait for winter and snow -- the more it snowed, the happier I was. It didn't matter if it snowed every day, all winter long, I was ready for it -- sledding, snow angels, snow balls, snowmen, igloos, skiing, and always hot chocolate and a big bowl of chili, after any of them. There was always fun to be had in snow ... not to mention, school was usually closed for the day, IF it was a BIG snowfall.

I think when I moved from New Hampshire three years ago, I thought I was leaving the really big snow storms behind ... huh uh, no such luck. I didn't realize I was moving to what's called the Allegheny Mountain Region here in Pennsylvania. It was sorta like going from the frying pan into the fire. Here, it snows almost every day all winter long.

Oh well (sigh) ... wanna make a snowman with me?