My Thoughts and Ideas
Okay, here is the good news that I have wanted to share for months now but only today am able to tell my loyal readers, my book I Albert Peabody is paid for through my diligent efforts. Like I said it’s been several months of suffering through in which case it seemed someone or something always seemed to get in the way.
Last night my writers’ group had a class in point of view. In case my loyal readers are not aware or have forgotten what they learned Junior High and High school English, point of view is the perspective of how the writer want to present his characters, such as first person: me, myself, or I, second person: you, or third person: he, she, them, they.
Long ago in a school district far, far away and before people in a decision-making capacity realized that I had speech impairment and not a mental disability, I was placed in Special Ed. No one had to tell us that we were not part of society, from a young and impressionable age we all knew we didn’t belong.
Jose was six years old riding in the back of a long trailer with over fifty others fleeing, what Padre called a dire situation in Honduras where they lived but were suddenly thrown out. He saw his uncle give this man all of the pesos they possessed to get out of here and into a land of promise.
It’s a funny thing about living here in Spokane, as I’m sure anywhere else for that matter. There is always this element in society who want to make it big by using any means possible including illegal means to justify their endgame. Apparently this was the case and recently, the media revealed a group, gang, syndicate in this area who made their living in stolen property.
Once again, in little over a week, we are witness to mass murder on a scale that defies explanation. I’m probably one of a few Democrats out there who not only endorses our right to bear arms but cherishes it as a founding principle for all to admire and respect.
’m reading news articles on the latest shootings in Buffalo by a racist who wanted his fifteen minutes of fame plastered over the airwave and social media platforms. Suffice to say as I described in A Man’s Passion, when a man’s passion is hate toward his fellow human beings, there is no changing him.
It was a bit more than I anticipated. I actually thought this was going to be a radio interview, but as you my loyal readers will see, it was a You tube video and radio interview.
For those of you who have read my book and wish to see me write more thought provoking literature, have your friends watch the video that is about A Man’s Passion.
I had to work on my writing project I informed you of a couple of months back. That is now done and in the first phase of editing. I also went and got traction on this marketing I told you of two weeks ago and that seems to be going well. I have a radio interview that went great and upcoming trailer for A Man’s Passion, plus my book will be presented to the Toronto Book Fair in June.
Look! I’m playing with doggy at the train station. My name is Tatyana. I am four years old and live in a small town. My country is at war with Russia. Mama says Russia is a big country that wants our country too. Papa is in the army to protect me and Mama from Russians.
As many of you my loyal, readers know I am a big fan of Nova, the science-based series on PBS. The other day I watched an episode that for me is truly frightening and poignant. It was a study done by the University of Wisconsin, which is ongoing showing three participants how they are dealing with dementia in their lives.
My loyal readers, I’ve gone several months since I had to move back to Spokane not doing my due diligence when it came to marketing my books. Not only is it costing me time and effort needed but also money which has been less available with the cost of everything else going up.
Family rest room? What a joke! I don’t care about no family restroom and what its true purpose is. I’m a doper, a tweeter, and don’t give a rat about babies needing their diaper changed or someone in wheelchairs needing to have their moment of privacy. It’s about me wanting to get high here at this casino.
The reverend finished his sermon and while talking to his fellow parishioners, came upon a thin, anemic and sickly wretch of a man. In India he may well have been casted an untouchable, but the Christian preacher felt a sympathetic tug toward him. He felt certain this beggar was harmless and went up to him.
“I had one guy flying between these three truckers. He was in some crazy hurry to get somewhere and all these trucks were in his way. He jetted between two, passed another, went clear across three lanes of traffic, bounced off another truck’s rear trailer tires and damn near went off the highway. He somehow recovered and passed him and just kept flying.
… people of a liberal quirk seemed more apt to have a nice yards and nice houses with clean and tidy rooms. Conservatives on the other hand could care less and would rather be left to their own individual choices. If they choose to be a lazy slob it is their problem.
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