Tag Archives: Life lessons

Vote NO on the big “R”esolutions!

30 Dec

Okay, so in the writing world the big “R” (or little one) is representative of ‘rejection’. As in, you get that dreaded agent e-mail that kindly says, “I’m sorry, this story wasn’t quiet what I expected.” Or “I like the premise, I’m just not sure how to sell this manuscript in this particular market.”  Just about every writer has seen one or two of these in their lifetime.This however, is NOT the big “R” I’m speaking about.

I’m talking RESOLUTIONS, like billions of other people are. (You know, being as it’s that time of year).

I had resolutions last year that didn’t go much further than the day I posted them. So this year, The BIG “R” is going to be the BIG “G” instead. Yep, you read right. I’m thinking of starting a petition, because like those rejection letters, that in some way let us no we’re not quiet there, the New Years resolutions seem just like that. Like once a year we post a list of what’s wrong with us. What we just haven’t managed to get right. And then 2 weeks down the road when we drop the ball it’s like getting a rejection all over again.

So yeah, this year, I’m getting goals, not breaking resolutions.

My goals for 2011 are:

Use two methods in which to get organized and on top of things: (Calendar and a timer)

Develop my craft: whether through reading, writing, or information provided on-line.

Support others in “getting there”.

Give back.

Sleep more.

—————————–

And that about does it for the goals, which are realistic for the first time in years. I think this NON-resolution stuff may work out yet.

Have you got goals?

Also, don’t forget to VOTE!

Teenage Letter To Santa

20 Dec

Dear Santa,

Mom says if I don’t believe in you I don’t get crap for Christmas. So rather than risk it, I’m writing you this letter. Okay, so here goes: If you get me what I want for Christmas, I swear I’ll be awesome-good next year. Like I won’t lie about texting in school or fight with my brother—actually I still might—but I’ll be nice to him too. And when it’s my turn to do dishes, I’ll do them without complaining, probably.

And here’s the list of what I would like: Kindle, Gift cards for music and books, a laptop, a 19inch flat screen tv for my bedroom (the one I have is reeeeeeeally old), a digital camera, an Ipod touch, clothes, store cards so I can buy my own clothes (no offense, but you’ve worn the same suit forever now) and maybe get yourself something nice.

I pledge to believe in you for as long as I live at home.

Me

p.s. If you really want kids to believe in you, maybe consider a website and provide an e-mail address for us to contact you directly. Sorry, but everything is techy now. And while I know kids aren’t supposed to see you, maybe you could start a blog and post pics of your wife, house, reindeer and elves.  Also, maybe you could change your name to Cyber Santa, just a thought.

Merry Christmas!

YAFF Muse: Untarnished

18 Aug

Welcome again to YAFF Muse: blog rounds. The ladies of YA Fiction Fanatics have come together for YAFF Muse. To have a little fun, explore different styles of writing and to give you some kick-butt shorts to read.  Enjoy!

iturnedaround by: inessaemilia

Untarnished

By: R.M.Gilbert

Skin slick with sweat, I take the man’s shirt from the floor and slip it on before heading outdoors. Cool mountain air licks my body dry. I shiver. He didn’t take my innocence; it was stolen a long time ago. Little by little. By a man who should have loved me. It’s this thought that drives me forward.

I hike the path down the side of the mountain, through the trees, to the dock. The stillness of the water greets me and I wait for the familiar feel of the dock tipping under Dean Boucamp’s weight.

“You did alright today,” Dean says coming up behind me. “He didn’t hurt you, did he?”

I shake my head no, like I always do.

He stands next to me. “We appreciate your help.”

“I know,” I whisper and glance at him from the corner of my eye. Badge clipped to his waist, gun strapped in a shoulder holster, dress shirt, tie, and the most trusting face I’ve ever seen in my life. It almost hurts to look at him. The department assigned “young detective Boucamp” to my case years ago. After they realized I was going to catch these men one way or another—with or without their help.

There’s just one thing I never came to expect, how I’d feel about Dean. I stare down at my feet. What right do I have to feel anything for him, when he’s seen how tarnished I am?

“You’ve got a big birthday coming up at the end of the week, don’t you?” he asks, always polite.

“Yeah, my eighteenth.”

“Do you remember what you told me?”

“I remember,” I say, thinking back to my high school graduation a few months ago when I shared with him my plans to join the police force.

“Well, I brought you a present.” He reaches in his shirt pocket, pulls out a business card, and hands it to me. “When you decide you’re ready, he’s expecting your call.”

I take the card and study it. “Thank you for this…and everything. I don’t know what I would have done without you helping me—”

He pivots closer. “You would have done just fine without me.”

“No.”

“Yes.” His fingers rake his hair. “Everything you do is perfection. And after all you’ve been through.”

“Perfection?”

He clears his throat. “I mean, you’re strong and bright and you’ve taken control of your life instead of letting the hurt control you.”

I spot movement on the path; it’s his new partner. “Hey Boucamp, we’re about finished here. Fredrick’s on his way to county lock-up with the perp.”

“We’ll be right up,” says Dean without taking his eyes off me. “Give us a minute?”

“You got it,” his partner says, then disappears up the path.

“How’s it going with him?” I ask.

“Pretty good.” Dean inhales loudly and gazes out at the water. “You know your Uncle’s being released this weekend?”

“Uh-hm, on my birthday.” My stomach knots. “Seems like a cruel present, doesn’t it?”

“I was thinking maybe I ought to come over that day.”

“Dean. Detective. You don’t have to—”

“I won’t be on duty,” he says.

And at that moment I feel hope. “So you don’t think I’m tarnished?”

“What?” Surprise catches in his voice. “No. I think you deserve all that’s good in the world.”

©2010, August 17, rmg.

If you or someone you know is/has been affected by child abuse please follow the link below:

CHILD HELP

Or Call: National Child Abuse Hotline: 1-800-4-A-CHILD

Child abuse and neglect are nothing new to our society, but as long as it continues to exist we owe it to the children to address it. In this instance, I wanted to show a victim who’s come full circle. I wanted to express how she’s taken something painful and let it empower her. And in the end allow her to see that she’s not seen as ruined. That a future awaits her.

Thanks for coming by. Please drop by my fellow YAFFers blogs and don’t forget to leave a comment.

Cambria Dillon

Mindy Buchanan

R.L.Purdy

Traci Kenworth

Vanessa Barger

YAFF Muse: This Girls Life:The Perfect Kiss

28 Jul

Welcome again to YAFF Muse: blog rounds. The ladies of YA Fiction Fanatics have come together for YAFF Muse. To have a little fun, explore different styles of writing and to give you some kick-butt shorts to read.  Enjoy!

Grass Kiss 2 By: Criswey

This Girls Life: Episode 63: The Perfect Kiss

By: R.M.Gilbert

“And cut!” The director calls out.

I push off the ground.

“Now we just need to get that same kiss from three other angles and we can call it a day,” Quentin says, still in the grass. I blush. He plays opposite me in This Girls Life. We’ve known each other since the show’s first pilot five years ago, and this is the first time our characters, Gage and Gloria, hook up.

If only life was as simple as our script. For years, I’ve crushed on Quentin and never had the guts to tell him. And kissing like this is anything but romantic.

“Places,” says the director.

I straddle Quentin, or rather, Gage, and lean in. They measure the distance from our mouths to the camera, angle our body’s so they can capture the light just right, and we listen as they instruct us on how to pucker our lips.

“This Girls Life: Episode Sixty-three: The Perfect Kiss. Angle 2. Take 1. And action.”

Fifty people surround us while we kiss. I’m being paid to make it look good and feel ‘real’ for our viewers. But it’s uncomfortable, almost painful.

After another five takes from the final two angles the director calls it quits for the day. Everyone claps because they think they’ve nailed the shots, saying that it really is the most perfect kiss.

I head back to my trailer to take off the pound and a half of make-up, asking my assistant for a minute alone. Tears well as I sit in front of dressing room mirror. For so long I’d imagined my first kiss would be different. Not something in front of a camera crew. Definitely not something scripted. Sighing, I pick up the make-up remover, strip away Gloria and return to plain old me.

“Sam.” My assistant knocks on the door. “Hey, Samantha.”

“One second, Kara,” I say, pushing my dark hair behind my ears before I stand, then open door. “What’s up?”

“Someone to see you,” she says and steps aside.

Quentin slips alongside the trailer. He smiles, his cheeks turn pink.  “I thought we could talk.”

Kara glances between us. “I’ll come back later,” she says and strolls toward our last shoot.

“I wondered if…” Quentin rolls back on his heels. “The thing is, I thought maybe—”

“Do you want to come in?” I ask, pushing the trailer door wider.

“Yeah.” He glances over his shoulder before entering and stumbles on the top step, nearly falling on top of me. He uses the wall to steady himself. “Dang-it I wanted to do this differently.”

I close the door and try hiding the disappointment I felt only seconds ago. I turn to face him. “Do what differently?”

“This,” he says, capturing my face between his hands. His mouth brushes delicately over mine. Tingles dance across my body. And when he goes to deepen the kiss, our foreheads bump and tongues intermingle. He tastes like pizza and our teeth scrape, but I don’t care. I circle my arms around him. There’s nothing forced or awkward about this perfect kiss.

©2010, July 27, rmg.

This short came to me last second. I wasn’t sure what I wanted to write about, mostly because I thought “How can you look at this picture and NOT see ‘Twilight’. The thing is, I didn’t think there was enough room for me to write a ‘twilightesque’ <–yes, that’s a word, novel. So, here I am thinking ‘Twilight’ when it hits me. No matter how much we love those movie/TV moments, they’re not real. How would a young actress feel if her first kiss was something scripted? My goal was to capture some of the awkwardness of being a teenager, no matter what your path in life.Thanks so much for reading.

After commenting, be sure to stop by other YAFFER sites to see how the picture inspired them:

Mindy Buchanan

R.L.Purdy

Traci Kenworth

Vanessa Barger

His Big Award!

1 Jun

https://i0.wp.com/www.race-rewards.com/Images/RP81262.JPGWhat to say, what to say? Guys :male: are different than girls :female: . An astute observation, I know. One that we’ll explore further in the man and his car realm.

This weekend I had the pleasure of being there for one of my husbands big moments, when his baby (aka 1975 Mercury Cougar) won a first place trophy at the Burley Park Memorial Day Car Show. When we got home:

:male: He said, “I was really holding back my excitement there.”

:female: It is a first place trophy.

:male: We went on to discuss the general awesomeness of his car.

:female: It is pretty. And fast.

:male: Then we talked about the shelf he’s going to make for his trophy.

:female: Who knows maybe if I have the pleasure of getting published we can build a shelf next to his for my books.

:male: Everyone had their picture taken with the trophy, then a group picture. After that it was passed around so each person could, “ooh” and “ahh” over it.

Like some living, breathing thing it brought energy into the room. Even now, it sits across from me, the shiny foil and plastic, fake-gold-winged-steering-wheel and tire gleams. A symbol of his hard work, hours spent in his shop, and his excitement. I can’t help but hope he gets to experience it again.

Congratulations honey!

Now where to put that shelf? :female: :male:

Unrealistic Much?

14 May

https://i0.wp.com/thumbs.dreamstime.com/thumb_69/1151959724yp372c.jpgAuthors are, I guess.

At YA Fiction Fanatics (YAFF – an on-line critique group consisting of myself and other aspiring authors) one of our members posted a link to a teen blog, where the girl went on about how ‘unrealistic’ YA novels are today. And how writers don’t realistically capture the high school experience.

The girl’s spunky, which was great, but the blog prompted thoughts from several of us in the group. After all, no matter our age now (and I’m pretty far from old) we did each go to high school. lol. Even if high school didn’t include a hundred cells in every class.

Basically her thoughts were this. Cliques are not as apparent as novels like to suggest, high school kids tend to be very stressed about school, not just the opposite sex, and college plans exhaust them to NO END. Added on that, sports, work, and texting and she’s down right wiped out. OMG. (Makes me tired just thinking about. J/k. Like I said I’m not that old). In her post she went on to say that the YA novels don’t focus on the truth of 5 hours of homework a night and constant collage plans. (I’m paraphrasing here, these are not her exact words. Well the 5 hours of homework is…maybe that should be in quotations?)

Well anyway, her thoughts prompted a discussion within the group and here’s what we came up with: that it may be possible ‘cliques’ seem less noticeable when your popular. (The fact that the girl had well over 700 subscribers to her blog and over 28 comments on this one post alone, tells me she’s doing okay in that department.) And then there’s the whole how BIG is your school? We, out-of-touch-writers–once students ourselves–have determined that the social cliques might be a bit more obvious in the smaller schools. But since I don’t plan on cyber-stalking to find out what school said teen goes to, I’ll just assume it’s average–whatever average is. lol. (Yes, I know my research efforts are very focused).

Lastly, we writers thought, hmmm, YA FICTION. I’m not sure the girl would be reading so much if we all wrote books about 5 hours of homework a night and college apps. I think maybe some teens prefer unrealistic cliques, love interests, and making the grade with minimal effort. I do have to say though, I don’t think I ever went to school with any werewolves, vampires, mind readers, or the like.

Still, the girls post was fantastic. Most times I don’t think YA writers get across the pressures on teens today, but I think instead we try to offer time away from that stress, if only for 250-300 pages. (TA4N–oh, for those who don’t read text: That’s all for now).

Romantic Reasoning!

15 Feb

Valentines Day tends to bring out the romantic side in even the most rational prosaic person. (I prefer a little irrationality on Valentines Day).  While I fully understand flowers die, a box of chocolates is fattening, and an extra “I love you” comes just because its expected. I can’t help but rejoice in a day that celebrates that we love one another. After all, everyday should be a day of love and so few are.

Many days are spent with our real life blinders on. Homes to tend to, kids to care for, work, co-workers, long drives, bills, groceries, pets…the list goes on forever it seems like. In all of this, our focus on love-romance gets pushed to the way-side. Sure, we may share an occasional hug or other affection. We’ll remember an ‘I love you’ as we head out the door or before we go to bed. But  do we remind ourselves daily that those words mean something.

I think it would be wonderful if we worked to keep love alive everyday. And remember why we enjoy our romance books so much. One reason I like to write them so well: love is… (we each get to fill in this blank and writing allows me to fill in the blank several times over).

What is love to you? Who do you love and what do you love that they do?

Another Year Older…

19 Jan

Turned 29 on Sunday and family members have taken the opportunity to remind me that I’m in the final year of my 20’s, and how do I feel about that? The truth is, it is my hope I get better with age. I hope this for others as well.

So how does one get better with age? I think this is accomplished through personal growth.

Unlike bread that sits far too long in the cupboard I’m not molding on a shelf. I’m active, keeping busy much of the time. But busy doesn’t quite cover getting better with age. People can be busy and never accomplish anything.

My year in review, to me, was a BIG one. Full of a spectrum of what I would consider accomplishments.

I grew with my children, maintaining close relationships with them, playing with them, learning with them, teaching them. I grew with my husband. As we both came to understand how to pick ourselves, and each other up after a faltering economy has taken it toll on 10 years worth of our hard work.

I said hello to new friends and bittersweet goodbyes to loved ones. Unfortunately, this is a part of growing as well.

Writing has come full circle with the help of a great new group of friends and the support of family. It has been a year filled with excitement, doubt, learning and satisfaction.  With nearly 3 completed manuscripts in one year and first submissions going out, I couldn’t be more excited.

My prayer for this year is that it is as full as the last. I look forward to the day I can say my 20’s are behind me and I’m ready to explore 30. But I’ll wait for it. There’s plenty to do and learn before then. I want to get better with age and believe we all can.

How do you ‘grow’ and what do you accomplish to make you better with age?

Image from: Jeff Bucchino, “The Wizard of Draws”

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