A dream last night gave me a story idea...

I had this crazy-good dream last night that I didn't want to wake up from.  It had two Native American children in it, a brother-sister duo with special abilities.  The brother had super speed, and the sister had telekinesis.  Throughout the dream, they were fighting this kidnapper off and trying to get back home to their parents and other Tribal members.  The more and more they fought this person, the more super abilities came out.  The brother also ended up having super strength, and the sister could summon fish friends with a sonar ability.  By the end of the dream, they both could shape-shift.  The brother shifted into a bear, and the girl got away by turning into a small bird.

One thing I remember about the children is they were related to the Shaman of the tribe, and their mother was the newest Wise Woman of the Tribe.  I woke up thinking they had "Magic In Their Blood" which is what I want to title the story once I flesh out the idea, and get it into book form.

After I woke up, I went to the Confederated Tribes of Siletz Indian website to see if I could find a book about some of their native stories since that was the reservation the children in my dream were associated with.  They do offer each member a book about the Tribe's history for new members, but I haven't been enrolled yet.  I'm still trying to prove my ancestry to join the Cherokee Nation.

I did find this page when I was browsing the site that I hope will provide me with some of my research.  At most, it will give me a background of the Siletz Indians to start from.

A Change in Creative Direction...

The other night while I was writing some more scenes in "The Shepherdess Princess," I came to a stand still because it was an emotional night for me.  Anyway, I paused to switch notebooks, and picked up my poetry notebook I haven't written in since publishing "Second Thoughts: A Collection of Poetry."  What follows is what was produced that night:

The Roller Coaster

I hear a message from you,

and I wonder what to do.

Do I believe you

after what you put me through?

Do I get on this roller coaster

of emotions, or pull a gun from my holster?

I never wanted to have these thoughts again,

and yet here I am.

After not writing a poem in months,

I pick up a pen to haunt

this notebook once again

with words long unwritten.

I know you don't deserve another chance.

I've given you two already, and I glance

back into a past

I thought I had some closure for at last.

One Stormy Night

The stormy night without

matches my emotions within.

You should have no more clout

over my heart again.

You no longer reside there.

You gave up that right,

and yet you want to hide there

on this stormy night.

You know I can hold a grudge,

but still ask for another chance.

I've never been one to judge,

but I no longer want romance.

I give and you take

until there is no more.

There's no way to fake

what has left my heart sore.

This next poem was written last night in memory of my friend, Traci:

The Box

How can a box so small

carry the ashes of a tall,

big beautiful woman?

How could she leave behind a good man?

I know she didn't have a choice,

but sometimes I miss hearing her voice.

All of her friends

she considered sisters and brothers to the end.

Now all that is left is a box

that never needed a lock.

My memories churn

as I think of her reduced to an urn.

Traci is far away from me,

but I like to think she's happy and free.

We will be reunited someday,

but she was only thirty-one when she was taken away.

I love you, sis, to the very end.

Even into the great beyond, my friend.

In addition to the poems I just shared, there's two more I have titles for that I have yet to write.  I am still also working on "The Shepherdess Princess" which is now at 55 pages, and counting.  I have 3 1/2 written pages in my notebook yet to add to my manuscript, and hope to write some more before going to bed tonight.

I have yet to put my new poems into their own document, but I've had a title for my next poetry book in mind since beginning to write "Second Thoughts."  It's working title is "The Trifecta: A Collection of Poetry" simply for the reason that it will be my third poetry book.  I may change it to something different later, but that's what I'll call it for now.

Creative Train...Temporarily Derailed

I do not want a repeat of last night for the rest of my life.  As I was sitting in my computer chair playing games and surfing the web, I was fine.  As soon as I brought up my manuscript file to work on, I made a wrong move in my chair and my back went out  which resulted in a pinched nerve, and hours of vomiting.  It wasn't a pretty sight.  Normally, I don't take showers really late but I did take several in the wee hours of the morning to try to work the kinks out enough to pop my back into place again.  I woke up my brother and upstairs neighbors in the process of taking showers, one bath, and puking my guts out.  I got an hour and a half total sleep as a reprieve during all the mayhem.  My brother was instrumental in helping me work out the knot, and we made little bits of progress until I relaxed enough for the problem to work itself out.

After my back popped back into place, I was able to sleep some from 8 am-12:30 pm with only one interruption when my brother came home from our weekly weight loss group that I skipped because the chairs would've been too hard on my back, and I didn't want another episode anytime soon.  I've been taking it easy all day sitting in my recliner from the time I woke up with a pillow propped up behind me.  The same pillow I'm sitting on at the moment.

Anyway during one of my short stints away from the bathroom last night, I was able to close my file and shut down my computer because I knew there was no way I was going to get any work done with the pain I was in.

My back is still tender, and will take a couple days to feel completely better.  In the meantime, I'm going to try to add more to my manuscript and hope history doesn't repeat itself anytime soon.  Wish me luck!

Breaking Through Writer's Block

After a month of not being able to write a single word in my book, I've been able to make some progress tonight.  I was more stuck than anything because I wasn't sure where to add my new material into the existing story line.  That's all sorted out now, and the story is beginning to flow again.  I did end up deleting seven more pages from my manuscript that no longer fit, or was repetitive.
It seems like I made little progress, but I added seven pages of text by cutting and pasting my new document into the existing file for "The Shepherdess Princess."  I had a total of 42 pages when I did that, and now I have 35 pages in all so far.  I also updated my table of contents, fixed some punctuation and spelling, completely rewrote chapter two, and proofread chapter one to make sure everything was okay there.

National Novel Writing Month officially starts at Midnight tomorrow for some people, but I haven't decided yet if I want to participate again this year.  Even though I have a jump start with almost 9,000 words of the 50,000 I would need for the month.  It's hard for me to keep up with the daily word count of 1,667 words sometimes and I fall behind rather quickly.  There are some days I don't feel like writing at all, or I can't think of where to go next in the story no matter if I have an outline handy or not.  I may just sign in with my existing account tonight, and go from there.

Happy Halloween to all the ghoulies and ghosties out there!

The Beatles-Paperback Writer

I'm grooving to this song.  It's getting me in the mood to want to work on my book some more.

Love Thy Neighbor by Amanda Waley

Before I went to sleep, I wanted to share the story I want to submit in the next "Chicken Soup for the Soul" book.  Let me know what you think about it, and if it needs some improvement.  I can work on it until October 3rd when I have to submit it.  Thank you in advance for your critique.

Love Thy Neighbor

By Amanda Waley

“You shall love your neighbor as yourself.  There is no other commandment greater than these.”

-Mark 12:31

“When peace like a river attendeth my way, when sorrows like sea billows roll; whatever my lot, thou hast taught me to say, it is well, it is well with my soul.”

-The first verse of It is Well with my Soul,

written by Horatio G. Spafford

with music by Philip P. Bliss

            This is a story about my neighbor, Annette “Tobie” Hickcox who was like a sister to me.  She was forty-four years old when she died of pneumonia, and complications with diabetes.  My mother verbally adopted her into my family when her own mother passed away.  She took her mother’s death very hard because they were very close.  Her mother became friends with my mother, and Tobie switched from a downstairs apartment to one directly above her old apartment when her mother could no longer walk up the stairs.  My family stepped into the role of “adopted” siblings when Tobie needed us the most.

            For a while she came over to my apartment across the yard once a week to watch movies with my brother and I.  Before she passed away, she was over 2-3 times a week watching television, watching movies, and having the occasional pizza party.

            Tobie and I started calling each other “Twin” even though she was fifteen years older than me, and we weren’t related by blood at all because we were both accident-prone and would end up comparing ouches.  A lot of the time, we had bruises and cuts in the exact same places.  Most of her falls were the result of grand mal seizures, whereas mine would be sheer clumsiness.

            Whenever we saw each other in public, we would greet each other with “Hey, Twin,” followed by the E. T. phone home signal with our index fingers.  The E. T. thing is something I started doing with my mom when I wanted to “phone the mother ship,” but with Tobie I would say “sister ship.”

            Aside from having epilepsy and diabetes, Tobie was partially deaf.  When my brother and I were going to college together, we took an American Sign Language course.  Tobie would practice with us when we did our homework.  My mother is also hard of hearing, so the Sign Language course was supposed to help talk to her, too.  Even though a lot of what my mother learned in her Sign Language class wasn’t retained, it was like we were teaching her some of the signs again.

            Tobie also volunteered a couple times a week at the local Library in the Children’s department.  She always loved being around kids even though she never had any of her own.  Since her death, I’ve began volunteering at the same Library once a week with my brother to continue something in her memory.  She loved working at the library.

            A few months before Tobie passed away, my dad lost his battle with prostate cancer and the Lord called him home.  That’s one of the reasons Tobie ended up coming over so much before she died.  Because most of my brothers and sisters were very close to my dad, and my brother, Ray, and I would visit him several times a week.  My brother, Vern, and sister, Amee, ended up taking care of him a lot in his final months by taking him to several doctor’s appointments, going shopping for him, and making sure he didn’t skip any medications.  They were both at his bedside when he drew his last breath along with my nephew, Aaron, who was visiting his dad.

            Tobie got sick with what she thought was the flu, but she wasn’t getting any better.  She had her housekeeper make an unscheduled visit on one of her regular days off to take her to a doctor’s appointment.  Her housekeeper came over, and had a hard time getting my neighbor to open the door to let her in.  Tobie had been sleeping on the couch, and the door was locked.  My neighbor seemed confused, and delirious for five minutes.  Finally, the housekeeper got her to unlock the door and she called 9-1-1.  The housekeeper found out later the doctor’s appointment was actually set for the following week.

            The first night Tobie was in the hospital, she went into cardiac arrest and had a stroke that she never recovered from.  My mom and I visited her in the ICU, my brother and I got her apartment key to take care of her cats while she was in the hospital, and found her uncle’s phone number in her address book and called him to let him know what happened.  He lives in Colorado, and couldn’t make it to Oregon right away.  A few days after Tobie was admitted to the hospital, her uncle gave permission over the phone to “pull the plug.”  She died ten minutes later.

            One week before all this happened; I made Tobie promise to come over for a movie night the following week thinking she would get better.  A week after she died, I believe I got the visit I was promised.  I was sleeping in my bed the following Friday night, and I shot up out of bed when I heard the word “Twin” in her voice.  Then I heard giggling after I said “Twin” back.  I had been praying for a sign from God that Tobie was okay.  I knew when she was alive she attended church regularly, and believed in God.  However, she was never really sure if she was ever baptized, and that’s what had me worried the most.  The thought of never seeing her in the sweet by and by.  Ever since that night, I’ve been comforted knowing I’ll see her again someday, and she’s happy where she’s at because she’s reunited with her mother and Heavenly Father.

Soul Sisters[1]

I’m glad I had met

My soul sister, Annette,

Before we both were gone.

She was a great shoulder to lean on

After my dad died

Because she experienced something similar

When her mother died,

And she cried,

But got a new “family”

With me

In it, and a support system

She couldn’t beat.

Have you ever been so close

To someone that they become

A brother or sister

Even though you’re not related by blood?

I told her often she was my sister

From another mother,

And I don’t know what I would’ve done

Without her kindness and smiling face

To brighten up the place.

---

[1] Copyright June 2011 by Amanda Waley.  The poem is taken from pg. 87 of Second Thoughts: A Collection of Poetry by Amanda Waley.  Published by Lulu Press.

I also have a second story to submit to "Chicken Soup for the Soul" typed up, but I still need to add more to it. It's still a work in progress, but I don't have to submit that story until December 31st.

"Chicken Soup for the Soul" Submission Guidelines

I remember submitting a similar blog post on this subject, but I noticed some of the guidelines for submission have changed.  Instead of the 500 to 1,000 word submissions, it's now 1,200 words unless otherwise noted.  I'm just glad I double checked  the guidelines before I started writing my story.  Another change I noticed was the price they offer for submissions that are chosen to go into the books.  The price went from $100 to $200 in addition to the ten copies previously specified.  I've submitted three stories this year already, and all the books are due out in October.  So if my stories were chosen for all three submissions, that's $600 in my pocket.  The first book being released October 4th.  That would be an awesome birthday present!  Here's the guidelines if anyone else feels courageous enough to submit one of their own works:

Recipe for A Winning Chicken Soup for the Soul Story

A Chicken Soup for the Soul story is an inspirational, true story about ordinary people doing extraordinary things. It is a story that opens the heart and rekindles the spirit. It is a simple, inter-denominational, living art piece that touches the soul of the readers and helps them discover basic principles they can use in their own lives. They are personal and often filled with emotion and drama. They are filled with vivid images created by using the five senses. In some stories, the readers feel that they are actually in the scene with the people.

Chicken Soup for the Soul stories are written in the first person and have a beginning, middle and an ending that often closes with a punch, creating emotion rather than simply talking about it. Chicken Soup for the Soul stories have heart, but also something extra…an element that makes us all feel more hopeful, more connected, more thankful, more passionate and better about life in general. A story that causes tears, laughter, goosebumps or any combination of these. A good story covers the range of human emotions.

The most powerful stories are about people extending themselves, or performing an act of love, service or courage for another person.

Guidelines for a Chicken Soup for the Soul Story

1. Tell an exciting, sad or funny story about something that has happened to you or someone you know. Make sure that you introduce the character(s). Please know that your story should be written in the first person.

2. Tell your story in a way that will make the reader cry, laugh or get goose bumps (the good kind!) Don’t leave anything out — how did you feel?

3. The story should start with action; it should include a problem, issue or situation. It should include dialogue and the character should express their feelings though the conflict or situation. It should end in a result, such as a lesson learned, a positive change or pay-off.

4. Above all, let it come from your HEART! Your story is important!

What a Chicken Soup for the Soul story IS NOT:

1. A sermon, an essay or eulogy.

2. An "as told to" story written in the third person.

3. A term paper, thesis, letter or journal entry.

4. About politics or controversial issues.

5. A biography or testimonial.

Story Specifications

1. We are no longer able to accept or consider any submissions sent by fax or postal mail. Please know that the only way to submit your stories or poems to us is via our website: www.chickensoup.com. If you have any problems when trying to submit, please contact our webmaster at:webmaster@chickensoupforthesoul.com.

2. Stories and poems must be non-fiction and should be no longer than 1,200 words.

3. No anonymous, author unknown or "as told to" submissions, please.

4. We prefer that you submit your stories only once, but if you believe your story fits in more than one book topic, please indicate which other topics you have submitted it for in the Comments line on the submission form. Submitting the SAME story more than once to the SAME topic causes delays, so please resist the urge to submit your story multiple times to the same topic.

5. Be sure to keep a copy of the stories and/or poems that you submit to us. Please do not contact us and ask us to send you a copy of anything you have previously submitted. We are unable to do that.

6. Please submit only stories or poems that have not been previously published. The only exception to this is if your work has only been published in a small local publication with limited circulation.  

If the story or poem you wrote is published by us, you will be paid $200 upon publication of the book plus you will receive ten free copies of the book your story or poem appears in.

When you submit your story to us through our website, you will receive an immediate response that we have received it. It is the next screen that comes up after you hit the submit button and not a separate e-mail message from us. The message says, "Thank you! Your information has been received." This is the confirmation that your story has been delivered and accepted into our submission process. It is the only acknowledgment you will receive from us. If you receive an error message when trying to submit, please contact our webmaster for assistance. If you do not have Internet access at home, you can always visit a local library.

It can take up to three or four years for Chicken Soup for the Soul books to develop. Please be patient, as this is an important, yet time-consuming process. If your story is chosen for a future edition of Chicken Soup for the Soul or any other projects, you will be notified and your permission to print it will be requested. Please know that we never publish anything without written permission from the author.

Feel free to submit more than one story or poem to us to consider.

Please do not send us any book manuscripts, unless through a literary agent, as these will be automatically discarded.