Map Made in Heaven

Have you ever wished that you had a map to someone’s heart? Or thought about giving a special person the map to yours? Take a few minutes. Think about it.



A Jules-Sized Heart

 In My Fair Lady, Eliza Doolittle says, “…the difference between a lady and a flower girl is not how she behaves, but how she is treated.” TCM delivered this timeless pearl to me the other night at way past my bedtime.

Eliza goes on to say in an Audrey Hepburn tone of voice, “I shall always be a common flower girl to Professor Higgins, because he always treats me like a common flower girl, and always will. But I know that I shall always be a lady to Colonel Pickering, because he always treats me like a lady, and always will.”

Map point. Treat me like a lady. Not just any lady. Your lady. Notice poachers and encroachers and steer them away from your lady, sans jealousy.

“The object of love is not getting what you want but doing something for the well-being of the one you love.” So says Gary Chapman in his bestseller, The 5 Love Languages: The Secret to Love That Lasts.

This map point should come naturally. If it doesn’t, is it love?

http://irishhbabee13.glogster.com/

Show me that I am special. My heart cannot be reached, nor breached without this. Check me out from across a crowded room. Walk over. Take my hand.

I’m not looking for a Siamese twin, but I do need to know that we’re together. Look out for me.

Say loving things. Be kind. Build me up. Be my cheering squad. You will have a fan for life.

Tell me. Why am I special to you? Is it the habit I have of straightening the house or making sure that the refrigerator is stocked with our favorite things? Tell me. Maybe it’s my dimple. My generosity. My mind.

Flowers say special. Lean across the neighbor’s fence and pick some poseys, a fistful of dandelions if that’s all you can find. We’ll laugh and I’ll know that you thought of me.

The last map point on the journey to my heart is my birthday. This is the one day of the year I want to be treated like a Diva, capital D.

Shower me with attention. Celebrate my day of birth. I was born. Be happy. Show me. Tell me ‘Happy Birthday’ throughout the day. Contrive a surprise. Or something silly. Write a poem for me. A love song. A sonnet. Serenade me. Do this, and you’ll have my heart in no time.

There. That’s it. You have it. The map to my heart.

Simple, really:

• Treat me like a lady.
• Look after my well-being.
• Make me feel special.
• And make a Big To-Do out of my birthday.

Am I worth it? Heck yeah!

What does your map look like? Is it short and to the point, like mine? Or long and twisty, with steep turns and sheer sides?

~ Olivia J. Herrell

Us and Them

I'm getting closer and closer to having wireless at my new home. In the meantime, my posts will continue to be few and far between. Such is life. Hopefully I will be up and running soon.

Friday I lost my phone. First one ever. I've broken a few. Lost a few contact numbers. But NEVER every single phone number I have ever collected and kept. Wahhh.

The good news is: I now have an iPhone. And am IN LOVE with it. There is a 'find my iPhone' app that I have enabled. And a backup function to save my contacts, etc, to iTunes. Yeehaa.

Sunday I raked pine straw and leaves for a couple of hours listening to 'Pink Floyd Radio' on Pandora. On my new iPhone. Did I say that I'm in love?

Earphones in, I danced with that rake and those leaves, enjoying every single moment in the sun and hard work. And have several more songs for the soundtrack of my new novel. Hmm, I simply must give it a working title, rather than calling it 'my new novel'.

Here is Us and Them. Also by Pink Floyd.

I promise I will be back soon!



~ Olivia J. Herrell

The Bear with Two Shadows

Congratulations to my good friend Roland Yeomans for publishing his new ebook The Bear with Two Shadows!

I am excited and proud that Roland's book is finally available for us to read in its entirety. You've heard me talk about Roland and his storytelling prowess. Please don't miss this opportunity to discover an amazing yarn spinner whose characters you just can't help but love, even when they turn out to be the 'bad guy'.

In the sake of time ('cause I still don't have wireless and my fingers are frozen as I sit in front of the computer in our cold basement), I am linking you over to my dear friend, Becky's blog for the skinny on The Bear with Two Shadows. Hers was the first post that I read about his publication and she has included everything you need to know on how to order your very own copy.

Also, Jules clued me in that today was 'sweeps day'. Don't miss her post, either.

Here are the first few paragraphs as borrowed from Becky from Roland's blog:

My mother was half Lakota Sioux and half Irish. She learned young the harsh truth that sometimes nightmares invade our waking hours to swallow our world.



I, too, learned it early in my childhood. My mother and I found ourselves living in a basement apartment during one of the worst winters in Detroit's memory.


Money was scarse. Food, too. Warmth even more so. Then, the power went out.


For days.


To keep my mind off the numbing cold and my worsening cough, my mother told me tales spun from the legends of the twin worlds of her own youth.


As I lay shivering under my blankets in the darkness, a magical world slowly took shape within my mind. And I was lost in wonder.


Souix legends contested with the fae and foe of Irish myth.


And the cold became only the chill embrace of Estanatlehi, the ghostly Turquoise Woman. Mother told me that while Estanatlehi's touch was cold, her heart was warm.


So the colder I got, the more it made me feel loved, for I knew that an unseen someone was only hugging me closer. And within the shadows at the far corner of my bedroom, I could almost make out the hulking form of the guardian of all hurting children,


Hibbs, the bear with two shadows.

 
Really. You will love his tales. I promise. Click on over and order a copy of the ebook. You know you want to. And, by the way, if you don't already follow Roland's blog Writing in the Crosshairs, what are you waiting for? It's FREE! :)
 
~ Olivia J. Herrell

My New Novel Has a Soundtrack!

If you read this blog on a regular basis, you know that I am agonizing (steeping) a new novel. You also know that one of my goals was to write six hundred words a day for the first six months of 2011. That would be enough to complete the first draft of my manuscript by my birthday on June 30th.

HA! The joke's on me. Eric are you out there? It keeps morphing.

More plot. More subplot. More back story. More characters.

Damn thing's gone global.

Which means that it's a freakin' gnarly undertaking and if I allow myself to dwell on that thought, it scares the everloving stuff out of me. It also means that the chapters I've already written require a rewrite.

So. Rather than pounding out six hundred words a day on my laptop, I am busy scribbling notes in my handy-dandy journal so that nothing escapes.

Last weekend a wonderful thing happened. Somewhere along the two trips I made between Dahlonega and Villa Rica, GA (about 200 miles for each round trip), I stumbled across the soundtrack for my Colossus:

Pink Floyd's Dark Side of the Moon.

On the final leg of the second trip I had company: my cat Bugsy. He wasn't at all sure about the whole car thing, especially after our false start two days earlier. But, as he had little choice, he manned up and came along. Quietly, I think. I faded Pink Floyd to the front speakers and cranked it up.

I'm not sure when or where the inspiration happened, but I'm pretty sure it was on the first trip. I had taken out my fear and was peering in to it, when Floyd pulsed out a trilogy. What? No Colossus? You mean I can relax and write the first part? Then later the second? Then the third?

My mind flit to Tolkien's work and in that moment, I understood how the man had done it. His story was too big to comprehend or attack, so he split it in to pieces. Many of you are authors and have probably understood this forever. I did too, intellectually.

But now I know it in a whole different way.

Roland Yeomans and others haved blogged about their novel soundtracks. Now I have one.

Yeeehaaaa!

My brother sent this remastered version of Time from Dark Side of the Moon. Thanks, Bill!

You've Come a Long Way Baby Blogfest/Contest

Link to Christine



I'm posting my entry to Christine's You've Come a Long Way, Baby Blogfest/Anniversary Contest a day early. On Saturday, February 5th you can click over to read the rest of the entries. But click over now to enter the contest. And to add an entry of your own if you would like.

From Christine's website:

You don't have to participate in the blogfest to be entered in the contest. Winners will be chosen randomly among everyone who has become a follower of The Writer's Hole and posted a comment that they want to enter, by Saturday, Feb. 5th.
You can earn additonal entries as follows:
+1 for promoting the contest on your blog
+1 each for tweeting or posting on FB
+2 entries if you put up a sample of your own early-in-my-learning-process, sort-of-awful-but-I-don't-mind-embarassing-myself writing.
+1 more for a rewrite of it, showing off your improved skills.

In 1969 there was this boy. He excited me a little, though at twelve I didn't quite understand what that was all about. What I did understand were the poems that he wrote. I also understood that if my friend could write a poem, then there was a good chance that I could, too. Over the years I lost touch with that boy. But I never stopped writing poems.

In the mid-80's, I lost the entire collection in a bad break-up. I ran away from that house with the clothes on my back, grateful to be alive. Maybe one day, when I'm a famous author, those poems will turn up on the market somewhere. One can only hope.

In 1989 there was another boy. Hmm. Boys and poems just go together don't they? This poem was inspired by him.

I see a few changes I could make to tweak this and make it better. But I don't get much practice writing poetry these days. Guess I need to find me a boy for inspiration.

Your gray eyes still haunt me
Day-in, night-out
A ghostly, almost scary feeling
At the lone bedtime
An emptiness.
An "I miss you" feeling
Almost...yet
I don't even know you.
Who are you
That you've taken control
Completely of my senses
Without touching me.
Probably without even
Knowing what you've done.
Sometimes I wonder.
I'm not completely sure
I'm not insane.
The need grows
And seldom fades
Beyond the realm of consciousness.
Why am I so certain
Yet so confused?
Knowing yet not knowing.
I don't want to love
Not you - no not even you.
It hurts too much
Tears tend to overshadow smiles
At times.
But yes -
I'd try it
For you.
You weigh heavy on my mind
And on my senses.
Your name lingers
On my tongue
And parades across
The edge of my thoughts
Sometimes there's a cadence
Marching, marching.
Calling your name.
I can't keep you away
Please go - no don't.
You're an illusion anyway -
Something beautiful I've imagined.
I can't touch you
I can only feel you.
The mirage that never satisfies
Yet beckons without mercy.
~ Olivia J. Herrell

Yeah. Well. There it is. Maybe I'll come back on Saturday and play around with it, fix it, make it a little more purdy. And I'll come by and read the other entries.

Don't forget to enter the contest for a chance to win some great prizes. And enter your own writing. Join us.