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3.The writer must avoid the two essential faults of creative writinga€”those that touch its essence and those that are accidental. 4.The plot should have a beginning, middle, and end, and thus resemble a living organism in all its unity.
5.The beginning and end of the story must be capable of being brought within a single view or theme. 6.Plot should be arranged on the complex plan, one in which change of fortune takes place through reversal of situation, recognition, or both and includes scenes of suffering.
8.Plot can consist of either a single thread or double thread in which an opposite ending occurs for the good and bad characters. 10.Plot should imitate actions that incite pity and feara€”pity as aroused by unmerited misfortune, and fear by witnessing the misfortune of a character like ourselves. 11.This character must be someone who brings misfortune on himself or herself, not through vice or depravity, but by some error or frailty. 13.The writer must focus on the action in the story and the part taken by the characters, and not drift off in several lines of action carried on at the same time. 14.The writer should put the scene before his or her eyes, as if he or she is an actual eyewitness to an event happening while writing.
Hero or heroine faces jeopardy that incites in reader emotions of sympathetic fear and anxiety as to the outcome of the situation. Plant the idea or action early, then develop readera€™s understanding by returning to idea or action later in story.
Description is the attempt to represent reality by using language to present as directly as possible the qualities of a person, place, object, or event.
1)The Eye of Insight sheds new light by examining inscape, viewing the interior, the shape within the shape of a thing.
2)The All-Accepting Eye examines things that we might rather not see, discards the labels, and searches for the beauty in a flaw, beginning discovery with the thing and not its label. 3)The Gliding Eye observes things in movement through time or space or both, picks up details of the passage, recording birth and decay of sensation at the center of a spinning mind.
4)The Childa€™s Eye observes a thing with the seriousness of a child at play, in a focused, highly concentrated way, without hurrya€”like watching an ant crawl across the ground or observing a dung beetle move a mass five times its size and weight. 5)The Dream Eye fragments reality and reshapes it, perhaps using symbols to penetrate below surface appearances. The Naked Eye merges with the Imaginative Eye to create effective descriptiona€”The Big Picturea€”by making things from, not making things up.
New idea built from comparison between two unlike things; tension between two actualities creates possibility, or new meaning. An Allusion measures a thing against a known cultural or memory tweak by referencing something the reader will know (Allegory, Conceit, direct or indirect reference to other texts (intertextuality), music, movies, etc.
Respond to each othera€™s work with respect, depth and thoughtfulness, in a manner that is civil and constructive. Over the Top a€“ material is presented in such a way that reader has a hard time believing the story. Greenfield, Tennessee, a farm and factory town of twenty-two hundred in the statea€™s rural northwest corner, has never been more than a place between places, one in a long list of towns to be passed through along kudzu-choked U.S. It was in fact the railroad, and not the nearby Mississippi River, which was the prime mover in the delta land where I grew up. On September 2, 1979, two members of the Weakley County rescue squad found the raped and murdered body of eight year-old Cary Ann Medlin in one of the communitya€™s namesake green fields, not far from the Illinois Central tracks. I remember hearing news of her murder and running to find my first grade yearbook, hoping to fix her school days photo in my mind so I wouldna€™t lose it. It wasna€™t until twenty-one years later, long after Ia€™d left Tennessee, after Martin and Greenfield had became only places in my mind and that Lovera€™s Lane a Memory Lane that I began to consider the murdera€™s place in a childhood which I now see as violent in so many other ways. That first grade photo of Cary appeared over and over in the news in the months leading up to the Coe execution, along with another I found printed years before in the Nashville Tennessean and now reprinted as the newspaper re-capped the story: a shot of those rescue workers bent over the soybean plants, long-haired and t-shirted, hunting the girla€™s body.
Bob Cowser, Jr.'s first book, Dream Season, was a New York Times Book Review a€?Editor's Choicea€? and a€?Paperback Rowa€? selection and was listed among the Chronicle of Higher Education's best-ever college sports books. Above our heads, a banner of the eartha€™s children: an African boy with corduroy hair, a fur-muffled Eskimo, a golden girl from Holland.
Six years later my first stockings were seamed and I thought of Miss Ranney while I sat on the edge of the bathtub shaving the pale brown hairs. Rebecca McClanahan has published nine books, most recently Deep Light: New and Selected Poems 1987-2007 and The Riddle Song and Other Rememberings, which won the 2005 Glasgow prize in nonfiction. There was a woman who died while I was in Daffiama; she was young and eight months pregnant. Jillian Schedneck taught Literature and Creative Writing at the American University in Dubai for the 2007-2008 academic year. Sitting on the edge of her bed, with legs dangling and shoulders slumped, my six-year-old stares at the wall in a trance. She moves to the beat of her own drum, but once in the car, I settle into the morning routine. As the overburdened stretch of I-95 south of the Capitol extends before me, with cars packed in every lane as we creep toward our northbound destinations, I cannot stop the seething anger and indignation that boils within me. Our passage onto the base is slowed at the gate by the forklift placing barriers in front of the gate shack. I look at her, and though I answer a€?yes,a€? I realize that I was late because I forgot to leave. Being a mother is not just something I do; it is who I am, who I should have been, and who I always want to be. On the way to work, I listen to the news, but then I turn it off and just listen to the sound of my breathing.
During my first sixth months of recruiting duty, workdays lasted from 0700 to 2300 Monday thru Friday, and from 0800 to 1800 on Sunday. Making all those a€?numbersa€? was occasionally impossible, especially the a€?three appointments for the next day.a€? The recruiter had to contact the staff non-commissioned officer in charge and report his numbers before securing. Create Scene, driving home, reflecting on the hours spent on the road as a recruiter and the nastiness of the bars carried on Na€™s clothing into the cara€”describe car: At the end of that night, I went home exhausted, sweaty, and smelling like the smoke from the bars, an odor I despise. Create Scene: Pulling into the driveway at 0200 all I could think of was getting a shower and going to sleep.
Deodorant soap replaced the smell of sweat and cigarette smoke from my body, but the taste in my mouth was getting worse. A recruiting SNCOIC doesna€™t want his recruiters getting caught with their integrity down but he is willing to risk it to make mission. This is a separate story inside this storya€”N is avoiding the real story by ending with this: Anyway, rumor had it the old man had assaulted a recruiter in Georgia and the Colonel just moved him to a new duty-station, in Daytona Beach, Florida.
Like I said before, you have real talent, so dona€™t think badly of your writing when you see my comments. One of the most important things you can do, is to take this piece and determine what is summary and what is scene.
When you create your timeline, start with placing the major events in this piece on the line first. Being assigned to recruiting from my usual job as a criminal investigator was both good and bad.
Getting back to those tasks based on statistics, stay with me now as I get through how the numbers worked out.
I talked to those people either on the telephone or in person, what we called daily activities.
When I returned to my desk from the bathroom, the old sergeant was heading out the door with his Bible. This was the guy I had to call every night and get approval to secure, to leave work and go home at night.
After almost five hours of talking to people on the phone and going out and talking to people at malls, stores and various other public places, I felt done for the day. Dragging ass, I continued to approach people around 7-eleven stores and such, acting like I just happened to be stopping by on my way home from work. After ironing out the details and writing down his contact information, I finally left the musty tavern and drove home, exhausted and sweaty. The glowing numbers on the clock said it was a short night before I had to get back up and start another recruiting day. Born and raised in a small town in the South, David Charles joined the US Marine Corps as a teenager during the Cold War period.
Spent the first couple days on a high-speed grind across six states I'd already crossed and re-crossed dozens of times since college. I did consider passing the miles by counting trees (Hey, I've done similar with kayak strokes by the thousands) but there were just too many of them. I finally just shifted into Stoic mode -- which I'm good at a€“ hunkering down and staring at the road ahead for dangerous debris.
Occasionally I see an annoying sign alongside the highway and latch onto its theme to pass the time. My traveling companion (I'd say my pal) Kawasaki has been behaving and is giving me 50 mpg. Who knows, you may get lucky and I'll be left speechless by the beauty of the Great Plains. In the 62 years I've been consuming corn -- popped, on the cob, candy corn, tortillas, chips, corn syrup and liquor -- I'm sure I haven't eaten more than an acre's worth, tops two.
Spent most of yesterday crossing Missouri on Route 70, a nondescript stretch of highway notable mostly for its gentle undulations -- like a kiddie roller-coaster -- and the amazing number of billboards atop 50-foot stanchions lining both sides of the road.
The pace is going well enough that I'm giving up the interstates for the smaller, slower roads. The drawback to abandoning the interstate is no longer having the shelter of the underpasses when there's rain or lightning.
98 degrees yesterday, possibly higher today, and the engine I'm straddling ups it even further. But, as they tell you at the beginning or end of many church services, "This is the day we are given. Drove up into the Bighorn Mountains yesterday to get some relief -- and it did knock 10 or 15 degrees off. Spotted a fluid leak from my rear axle, which is a concern because I have limited tools with me and even less know-how. But I remember seeing it in 1952 and unless they've added some guys up there, I figure I'm covered. This stark, barren topography of northern Wyoming looks so familiar to me, and I realize it's from that 1952 trip when the Old Man drove Mom and us four boys out here to see the national parks. Traveling in the car with him was like being confined in tight quarters with a very cranky grizzly bear. Aside from the 1,500 miles of lush farmland from Ohio to Nebraska and the Bighorns, I liked the Black Hills of South Dakota lots -- if you erase the tourist towns of Custer, Sulphur Springs and Keystone, which are pure kitsch. Last night I drove far afield and couldn't make it back to a population center where they might have brand-name lodging -- Holiday Inn, etc. The large dining was was empty except for five young waitresses on break, sitting at a round table with a quiet young fellow about their age. The youngest and smallest of the ladies -- I'd say she'd just finished high school, or was about to -- came over and asked if it was cold outside. Then she grabbed a telephone and called her boss, who apparently had composed and printed the menu. The other waitresses had jumped up and gone through the entire supply of new menus, only finding the a€?bubesa€? misprint in four of them.
I pulled out a map to occupy myself: Yes, I was the one who found the typo, but I was laying low on this topic. Still bothered by the SUV rollover I came upon three days ago high in the Bighorn National Park.
The lone occupant of the vehicle, a Jordanian student working at a park resort for the summer, had multiple and truly grave injuries -- fractures, gashes, internal bleeding that was bloating his belly.
Although successive people held his hand and tried to encourage him -- and a passing doctor and EMT specialist did all they could -- what he really needed was an operating room, quick. So he lay in agony alongside the road for almost two hours until an ambulance arrived from a town 30 miles down below and carried him to a patch of road that was flat and open enough for a medevac helicopter to put down. As for the rodeo action, for me it was like expecting to see the Yankees and getting the Newark Bears -- not even a€?single-Aa€? ball. Many lassoes were flung but few calves were roped, barrels mostly got knocked over in the circle-the-barrels horse races, and nearly every cowboy immediately got bounced off the bucking broncos and bulls.
The most fun of the night was when they invited all kids 12 and under to the arena floor to win a prize for snatching ribbons ribbons tied to the tails of three calves running loose. I was hoping the boy, who appeared bright enough to do it, would remind him that New Hampshire was one of the original colonies, but maybe he was too polite. The Testicle Festival near Missoula, Mont., is in mid-August this year, and I'll be long gone. So many bikers around the South Dakota-Montana-Wyoming junction that everyone's a€?quit waving.
The road west through the Lolo Pass into the Bitterroot Mountains overlies, in part, the path of the Lewis and Clark Expedition of 1805-06. For me, to travel over the same ground covered by these 32 brave and resourceful men (never forgetting the remarkable Sacajewea with her baby) is an electric experience. For me, to drive along this pathway -- now Route 12 -- was a privilege and an honor I can't properly put into words. The journals of Lewis and Clark are among the great American documents and the best kind of adventure tale -- a true story experienced by people we hope we could emulate. Two of them were in a motel in Grand Island, Neb., two in a passing car in South Dakota and one in a roadside softball game in Nevada. True, I haven't gone through any real cities, but I'm wracking my brain and I can't recall seeing any other African-Americans. In the category of What Else Is New?: a€?In Riggins, Idaho, a rough-feeling former mining town on the Salmon River, now a a€?summer rafting center, a 50-ish tourist I'd seen an hour earlier strolling on the street a€?lurches away from the Salmon Inn, a billiards joint that sells beer and pizza. Rolled my bike out of my brother-in-law's San Diego garage, reset the odometer to zero from the 5,060 miles recorded on the westbound leg, and I'm off! The terrain turns bleak just a handful of miles east of San Diego: Barrenness, rock piles, occasional scrawny bushes.
In this visual monotony, the mind drifts and I recall driving past a menacing looking blockhouse of a bar in San Diego that had a foot-square white sign on its door. From Yuma east to Tucson is Moon-like landscape with scrub brush and mountains in the distance. Had the joy, in the far outskirts of Phoenix, of spending eight hours or so talking with Bil Canfield, the best cartoonist The Star-Ledger and before that The Newark Evening News, ever had. Drove -- and drove some more -- east through the startling sprawl that is Phoenix and into the Pinal Mountains.
I drove nearly all the way across New Mexico staring at the a€?skies: Fortunately, the straightness of Interstate 10 let me do it without a€?wrecking.
I know it's a vestige of my time in the military, but I have a great a€?aversion to people in uniforms. Well, this strip above the Mexican border-- from California across to Texas -- is positively crawling with uniforms.


You see them in McDonald's, they're racing around in trucks, they're in helicopters scouring the desert, they're at random checkpoints miles north of the border. The waitress was a bubbly local girl named Cindy who was pleasant enough but had a voice so shrill it pierced to the bone.
There's a lot of guys in these parts driving pickup trucks in what I would call a hostile manner. The 140 miles of Route 180 north from El Paso to the Guadelupe Mountains National Park are little-traveled but gorgeous.
I left the bike on the shoulder of the highway and walked off 100 feet to try capturing the scene with my camera.
He gives me the exact mileages, tells me how long it'll take to get there, says where to turn en route and notes that there's 18 miles of construction along the way but it shouldn't slow me down. The sky heading north into West Texas was all bright and blue except for one dark patch, which grew larger as I rolled onward As the black area expanded I could see lightning strikes and columns of rain in its core. I sped up -- to 90 mph at one point -- figuring I would outrun it or outflank it, but the storm always stayed directly before me.
While I was struggling to put a tarp over the bike, a blocky lady sheriff in a gray-panted uniform ran out of the diner to her cruiser. I covered my bike, took a photo of the nastiest looking sky I've ever seen and sprinted to the safety of the diner. The young fellow, wearing a Texas Tech T-shirt, brushed dead flies off my table next to the front window.
Half a dozen were bouncing against the window pane and others were flitting on and off about every surface in the place. I ordered a coffee and burger and waited, taking comfort in being in a safe place with a kid who seemed to understand weather conditions I didn't. In another few minutes I gave up trying to clear my helmet visor by hand: I lifted it and took the rain in my face.
I couldn't judge which way the storm was traveling, so there was no evasive actiona€?to take. I spent the better part of one day crossing the length of Oklahoma east to west with a 30 mph blow going on. Finally, Cheryl got them all up and busy, filling sugar bowls and wiping down chairs in advance of lunch, and I left. So many bikers around the South Dakota-Montana-Wyoming junction that everyone's quit waving. I'm saving one Butte mystery for another visit: How a bar in a blue-collar neighborhood next to the pitmine got the name Helsinki Yacht Club.
I get the impression a lot of folks out here don't much care for Easterners, or maybe it's just me personally they don't like.
In the category of What Else Is New?: In Riggins, Idaho, a rough-feeling former mining town on the Salmon River, now a summer rafting center, a 50-ish tourist I'd seen an hour earlier strolling on the street lurches away from the Salmon Inn, a billiards joint that sells beer and pizza.
A A  Had the joy, in the far outskirts of Phoenix, of spending eight hours or so talking with Bil Canfield, the best cartoonist The Star-Ledger and before that The Newark Evening News, ever had. A A A  Drove -- and drove some more -- east through the startling sprawl that is Phoenix and into the Pinal Mountains. A A A  I drove nearly all the way across New Mexico staring at the skies: Fortunately, the straightness of Interstate 10 let me do it without wrecking. A A  I know it's a vestige of my time in the military, but I have a great aversion to people in uniforms. A A  The waitress was a bubbly local girl named Cindy who was pleasant enough but had a voice so shrill it pierced to the bone. A A  There's a lot of guys in these parts driving pickup trucks in what I would call a hostile manner.
A A  The 140 miles of Route 180 north from El Paso to the Guadelupe Mountains National Park are little-traveled but gorgeous. A A  I left the bike on the shoulder of the highway and walked off 100 feet to try capturing the scene with my camera. This dad calls himself an "all around man of action" A This is also true when giving lessons to his daughter on selfies, lol. When 22 year old Megan McGurr from Memphis recently graduated from nursing school, her parents threw her a party and her mom Cindy, left her in charge of the cake. Megan decided to use a picture of her in a keg stand pose on the cake, and as you can imagine, her mother was NOT happy. Megan said, "Her reaction was angry at first, but then after my family started to see it, she loosened up because they all thought it was funny.
After having surgery for brain cancer, an 8-year-old boy was left with a scar on the right side of his head. The competition consists of men who shave their head to raise awareness and funding for childhood cancer and research.
A man who was purchasing food looked at her angrily and asked, a€?Cana€™t you do that somewhere else? This is hard to watch, but it also gives you a great reminder of how important it is to be responsible while driving!
A two year old boy was relaxing with his family, wading in the water near the shore line when an alligator attacked the boy.
Courtesy of Opposing Views, "A pregnant mother woke up from a caesarian section only to be told by doctors she was never pregnant at all. However, if you have a growth type of mindset, you are able to accept that troubling things will happen to you but you dona€™t allow them to dictate or control your destiny.
Life can be full of unforeseeable mishaps, tragedy, trauma, heartache, and misfortune; however, how we choose to heal from those circumstances is within our control.
The therapists, psychologists, and counselors on staff at Behavioral Health Clinic of Wausau are dedicated to addressing the emotional health needs of Wausau and the central Wisconsin area.
It's also illegal to leave a child under the age of six alone in a car for any amount of time in any weather. Parents know and love the Zipadee-Zip wearable blanket and swaddle transition solution that has helped little ones around the globe get a good nighta€™s sleep. The Zippy OneZ is a super comfy one-piece outfit that provides both fashion and function for little ones, and is a time and sanity saver for parents!
The rape of a 23 year old college student, and subsequent disgustingly light sentence of her attacker is making news this week. It's a discussion many are sharing, I'm not alone in wanting to talk about it, in fact, earlier today I was in line with my daughters to get ice cream and an older woman and college age female student in front of me were talking about the case. He faced 14 years in prison but last week the star swimmer was sentenced to JUST six months jail after being found guilty of assault with intent to commit rape of an intoxicated woman, sexually penetrating an intoxicated person with a foreign object and sexually penetrating an unconscious person with a foreign object.
Brock Turner's 23-year-old victim has shared her story in a letter that has gone viral and it is POWERFUL. Determine the point at which protagonist must make a decision in order to achieve goal (crisis). Coherent: Distilled image remains True to Life by reproducing the distinctive features of original.
Consistent: Distilled image links the intended meaning from beginning to middle to end creating Unity of Meaning, as in an extended metaphor or exemplification.
Allusion requires an understood knowledge base between writer and reader and recognition of a Cultural Memory Tweak by the reader in most cases.
Elusion is complex and mysterious and requires not just recognition, but discovery of what is absent. In depicting the motions of the a€?human hearta€™ the durability of the writing depends on the exactitude. Submit line-edit suggestions, marginal comments, and an end comment (summary of your thoughts on the piece) addressed to the writer.
Offer an end comment that notes what you believe the work to be about, how you see the work achieving this, and what opportunities you can see for further exploration in this work. My slightly larger hometown of Martin, ten miles north up Highway 45, took its name from tobacco plantation owner Colonel William Martin who donated land for the railroad bed. Cary had gone on a bike ride with her little brother twenty hours earlier, gotten into a strangera€™s Grand Torino and disappeared.
Her stepfather worked in those days on the assembly line at the Goodyear tire plant in Union City, her mother as a nurse at a Jackson hospital, and before moving to Greenfield in the summer of a€?79 the family had lived for a time in Martin. As the state of Tennessee prepared to execute Coe for the Medlin murder (its first execution in forty years), I began to understand Bean Switch Road as a rutted track in memory which might run between me and many people I loved and respected, separating me from them. Both Medlin and Coe are as dead as they could bea€”Coe for almost five years at this writing, Cary Ann for nearly a quarter century.
He is also the author of Scorekeeping, a collection of coming-of-age essays, and his essays and reviews have appeared widely in American literary magazines, including Missouri Review, Prairie Schooner, American Literary Review, Sycamore Review, Brevity, Sonora Review, Fourth Genre, and Creative Nonfiction. I checked the seams each morning as we stood facing the chalkboard, my hand across a place I called a pocket but she called your heart, and I pledged allegiance to a flag no bigger than my brother's diaper flapping on the line. I fingered my Brownie badge and renewed my oath to help other people at all times, especially those at home. She has also authored four previous books of poetry and two books of writing instruction, including Word Painting: A Guide to Writing More Descriptively.
I didna€™t go to the funeral, but those who did said you could see the baby circling around inside of her, like a hand moving under a sheet. The first one fell with the Twin Towers, and as the clots of blood dripped into the toilet, I said goodbye almost thankfully, glad not to bring a child into such a world.
Something is different, something has changed, and I search my body for signs that my baby is still therea€”check my breasts, my belly, the fluid in the toilet, and back again to the breasts, wondering if the life inside me has died. Not just any brown, but the kind you make with paint or too many layers of crayon when youa€™re a little kid. I would have gone to the funeral and made them cut the baby out while it was still alive, instead of after it had died. Her essay a€?Circling,a€? which first appeared in Brevity, will be anthologized in Online Writing: The Best of the First Ten Years (Snowvigate Press, 2009).
As she rifled through the box of pencils, Alejandra must have also been watching my backside as I bent over Todda€™s desk, pondering the thin line of flower-print elastic that clings to my waistline. He has dutifully added the e, but his compositiona€”five sentences describing his homea€”is riddled with errors. Calculating the hours, I am certain the Virginia state legislature steals an hour and a half from me five days a week. Amandaa€™s before and after school care is local to our neighborhood, and my year old baby attends the day care on base.
Calculating the hours, I am certain the Virginia state legislature steals an hour and a half from me every workday. We are working with the Marine Corps program manager to set the timeline and milestones for the new Department of Defense messaging software.
She joined the Marine Corps in 1990 and is currently a Master Sergeant servingA with III Marine Expeditionary Force, Okinawa Japan.
Those activities included about 200 telephone calls and, getting back to this day at a little after 5 p.m. Having joined for law enforcement training, his first Marine job after a€?recruita€? and a€?studenta€? was as a military policeman. I did have a deer bound in front of me on Route 80 in Pennsylvania but my horn-honking turned him. But these cornfields stretch outwards hundreds and hundreds of miles from here (Grand Island, Neb.). I think it's to find some little bit of company and comfort out among all the larger vehicles.
Without that cover overhead, you're on open country roads getting soaked and -- worse -- sitting on a big piece of metal that attracts electrical charges.
Forecast for the next four days where I'm going in Montana-Idaho is for the same temp, with chances of afternoon thunderstorms.
The look of the Bighorn National Forest is austere, powerful, vast, a lot of rock faces with detritus heaps below.
I was concerned the fuel injector wouldn't automatically adjust to these changes in altitude (4,500 feet on the high desert to 9,000 in the Bighorns), but it's purring wherever I take it. Rushmore the other day but didn't make the effort to go see it, which sounds vaguely anti-American even to me. It was hard traveling, especially to make a two-week 4,000-mile round trip like the Old Man did, as the lone driver. But he did want us to see places maybe most kids didn't and I think he wanted to make us adventurous.
The formula for making them would be: Take a sea of sand about 200 miles across, stir it up a bit so you get rounded, swelling waves, top it with tall grass, sprinkle lightly with black Angus cattle and every mile or so plunk down a windmill to draw water for the cattle.
As I ate, dust clouds from the adjacent road being repaved swirled around the parking lot, a crushed root beer cup was whirling in irregular circles near the table, and in the distance, jagged lightning bolts among the dark clouds atop the Bighorns.
I explained that my leather jacket wasn't for warmth, but for padding, in case I fell off the bike. The last thing I am is a flag waver, but when the pennants of the rodeo's sponsors -- Coca-Cola, Dairy Queen, Pinnacle Bank, the U.S. Picking their way along Indian trails and bushwhacking through the towering evergreens, Lewis and Clark had no idea how deep this forest would be, only that the Pacific lay somewhere ahead.
I stopped along the way to read every historical marker, each keying the location to a specific entry in the two expedition leaders' daily journal.
With this kind of light ahead, I think I'll need shades every morning till about 10:00 all the way home. Then the Imperial Valley, which is inhuman in its sterile, mass-production agriculture way.
The landscape is all creosote bushes about 20 feet apart and occasional gray rock ridges sticking out of the dust like the dorsals of buried lizards. Who's more manly, Hulk Hogan or Mahatma Gandhi, who probably couldn't bench-press two Wheaties boxes on a stick but helped topple the British Empire?
I assume folks come here to warm their old bones -- it gets to 115 degrees in summer -- and stretch their savings. The old copper mining towns of Miami and Globe have great potential for photos but the light was wrong and I couldn't wait for it to get right. Billowing several thousand feet in the air, it a€?looks like the product of the largest explosion that ever was, but it a€?doesn't float away or change in any way.
The driver was from Utah -- and a look-alike for actor Charles Laughton -- who had doubled back to see if I needed help. If my bike had been disabled, he'd have committed himself to driving me 75 miles to arrange for repair, and he knew that.
I veered off the road next to a small town's grain elevator, which I thought might give me some cover.
Its occupants turned out be a skinny kid in charge, who stood about six-foot-six, somebody working the kitchen, me, and about a thousand flies. After about half an hour the kid said, "If you're goin' to Lubbock, you should be all right now. I could still see a thin strip of blue sky and sunshine before me along the horizon, but raindrops began pelting my windshield. Hailstones began to mix in with the rain, pellets about the size of peas ricocheting off my plastic windshield and helmet.


I was hanging off the right side of the seat and still had to tilt the bike a couple degrees in that direction to counter-act the northbound wind.
As I ate, dust clouds from the adjacent road being repaved swirled around the parking lot, a crushed root beer cup was whirling in irregular circles near the table, and in the distance,A  jagged lightning bolts among the dark clouds atop the Bighorns.
Someone has popped him on the cheekbones as perfectly as as you can be punched -- pinpoint shots.
Billowing several thousand feet in the air, it looks like the product of the largest explosion that ever was, but it doesn't float away or change in any way.
This Dad is a former Dreamworks Animator and now puts together amazing action scenes for his son. The Holderness family has some hilarious musical parodies on Facebook, and this is the latest! A His father rushed into the water and tried to retrieve his son but the alligator dragged the poor boy away. What you believe about yourself and your circumstances will dictate how you feel about them, and how you feel about them may determine how you act upon them.
This is acceptable as long as you dona€™t allow yourself to wallow there for a lengthened amount of time and that you then go back to challenge those inaccurate beliefs. For a person with a growth mindset, the thought, a€?Ia€™m such a screw upa€? may enter their mind, but then they would be able to challenge and adjust those thoughts accordingly.
Thata€™s not to say that you wona€™t experience the feelings of pain, suffering, despair, or even hopelessness, but the length and intensity of those feelings can be impacted negatively or positively by your mindset which is 100% within your control, and thata€™s a good feeling, as well as a security blanket.
Place something in the backseat next to your child that is necessary at your end destination.
The first hot car death of this year was in 52 degree weather when a child died after being in a car with the heater on for too long and sun beating down on the vehicle. The Parker family from Fort Worth, Texas behind the Sleeping Baby brand has received so much positive feedback over the years from families who were saved by their unique invention.
Scatter descriptive details by breaking large clumps of information into smaller bits and sprinkle throughout the story. More than a century ago now a conductor on a southbound Illinois Central Gulf train offered the town its name, noting the fields of winter wheat still green late in the year. Engineer Casey Jones lived 50 miles south in Jackson, Tennessee at the time of his legendary 1903 wreck, his modest house there now a museum.
By the time they found her tiny body atop a trampled swath of soybean plants just off Bean Switch Road, a notorious Lovera€™s Lane, the corpse had begun to turn in the late summer heat. I was as sad as a nine year-old boy could be about the business I suppose, but Cary had violated that cardinal rule of childhood about talking to strangers, and the Tennessee Bureau of Investigation had Robert Glen Coe in custody just three days later. I sensed with a kind of strange excitement how the photo was an emblem of my childhooda€”the unmistakable heat, those men, something awful hidden just out of sight. We sang of mountains and amber grain, our voices always a beat or two behind the warped '45 spinning on the phonograph beside the globe on Miss Ranney's desk. Later that year, I was in Home Ec tracing my face shape with soap onto a mirror when the intercom crackled the news. McClanahana€™s work has appeared in The Best American Poetry, The Best American Essays, Kenyon Review, Georgia Review, Gettysburg Review, and numerous other publications. Later I felt bad that I hadna€™t gone to the funeral, but I was never sure if my motivation was guilt or disappointment over missing such a spectacle. This one is taking its time, and I have nothing more than my intuition to tell me that ita€™s gone. Ia€™m still not completely sure, so I survey again, trying to find the feeling that was once there, that still comes back in little wisps, but seems mostly gone. You mix all the colors togethera€”the good colors and the bad colors too, just to see what will happen, and you come up with a muddy, greenish, sickly version of the color brown, a sort of chaos and confusion of life and lifelessness all blended into one, never to be separated into sky blue, tangerine, and sea foam again. I would have taken the dead womana€™s baby for my own, as a guard against the possibility that either of us would ever be alone, as a stone thrown in the face of death, as protection against this circling, this looking for something we both need desperately that is no longer there. I consider asking him what the correct spelling might be, imagine him looking up at me with big, brown eyes, searching the details of my face for the correct letter, but decide to just tell him what he needs instead.
I nod solemnly, mentally adding another dress code violation to my long list of teaching errors.
Traffic is finally moving, and this idiot thinks the left lane is for pacing instead of passing.
On the way to work, I listened to the news, but sometimes I turned it off and just listened to the sound of my breathing. Looking at my watch, I realize that the few minutes that I have been delayed will cost me many more. With my simple math skills, I conclude that including weekends, they rob me of at least ten hours a week.
My thoughts are focused on security, contingency operations, alternate network operations, and the myriad of requirements to overcome the obstacles presented by this occurrence. She knows something terrible has happened today and I dona€™t know how to explain it to her.
Being a Marine is not something I do; it is who I am, who I have been, and who I will always be.
The hands of time are moving again, but now I hear the slow, steady tick tock of each moment. She is also married to a Marine and has two daughters, ages 13 and 8.A She has served in support of Operation Iraqi Freedom, and her husband has served in support of Operation Enduring Freedom.
Once he cut his teeth guarding gates and on patrol, David became a Marine criminal investigator.
Driving through the puddles on the highway was a little unnerving but there were no overpasses for shelter, so I had to keep going. Louis for Night 3, but otherwise it's been just the banter with waitresses and gas station folks.
I got out the sturdy Pope Paul II church key someone gave me (OK, I bought it) and used it as a kind of giant screwdriver to tighten the fluid cover. I drove hundreds of miles out of my way to get there because it was billed across the state as a hi-grade rodeo. They bolted and the kids chased them every which way, sprawling in the dirt and whatever else was on the ground.
When I walked away from the bike to take photos I found a€?myself straining to get enough oxygen. Winter was approaching, and the party's hunters were having no success in finding game on the steep slopes of these unending woods. Lassen, Calif., to visit with my buddy of five decades Ted and his wife Carolyn, then wrap it up with two broiling days down Veggie Valley (California's Route 5) to San Diego. Don't know if you have to bring your own water: I sure didn't pass over a flowing stream or see a lake for a couple hundred miles.
Bil suffers from Blatt's Sydrome, wherein the body ages normally but the mind never makes it past 18 -- well, maybe 15 in Bil's case.
The place bored me quickly: Only the cowboy hats distinguish this casino from the the East Coast brand.
The pluses with a bike are limited to the physicality of the travel -- if you like that -- and a natural buzz from rolling along out in the open.
When I walked away from the bike to take photos I found myself straining to get enough oxygen.
A  The "Life of Dad" Facebook page created the "Cheerio Challenge" and it's pretty simple, just stack Cheerios on the faces (or bodies) of your sleeping baby.
So when life gives you lemons, dona€™t just make lemonade, make a strawberry-lemonade pomegranate fusion because you can, and because you deserve it. Then one day when Stephanie Parker was changing her sona€™s diaper, she became frustrated with the tedious snaps on his outfit and decided to create the very first baby romper featuring a snap-less inseam a€“ the Zippy OneZ!
After all, something has drawn you here, readera€”you want to know what it is the searchers seek among the soybean plants.
Lawrence University, where he teaches courses in nonfiction writing and later American literature, and an adjunct member of the faculty of Ashland Universitya€™s Low-Residency MFA program. Our world was the Weekly Reader, hopscotch and jump rope, the only war the Cold One which America of course was winning. They lived only for my welfare, wrote notes about my progress and pinned them to my shirt, exchanged report card signatures.
McClanahan, who lives in New York, has received the Wood Prize from POETRY, a Pushcart Prize in fiction, and (twice) the Carter prize for the essay from Shenendoah. There is something about the way the breasts suddenly deflate, the way the body stops gurgling and humming, that lets me know I will continue to chase after the symptoms of another life in my body without ever finding what I am looking for. This brown, this color I am, it sucks in the colors of crocuses, bananas, my husbanda€™s eyes, and it holds them tight, keeping them for its own but never changing, never brightening to a rich mahogany or surrendering to black.
As my bitten fingernail zigzags over his sentences, I realize that even my fingers dona€™t match my image of a fourth grade teacher, who should be neat and composed, with a rosy complexion and trimmed, polished nails. He grins back at me, but there is something about his expression, the penetrating, hooded brown eyes, that tells me he knows Ia€™m overlooking his other mistakes.
She is currently working on a travel memoir about her experiences in the United Arab Emirates titled a€?Abu Dhabi Days, Dubai Nights.a€? Her creative work has been published in literary journals such as The Common Review, Brevity, and Fourth River. Adding lanes in both directions just wouldna€™t have been right a€“ all that grass dividing the highway looks so much better! Most of his career was in military law enforcement minus some out of specialty assignments, including three years on recruiting duty.
After half minute of mayhem, the boy who had grabbed the first ribbon brought his proof to the announcer in the center of the arena. About 17 years old, he's attempting to a€?grow a beard but it's a€?sketchy and mostly fuzz. And the clouds, which are soft and thinnish at eye level, become brilliant white, three-dimensional puffs directly above. I thought maybe they had given me the plexiglass model from the a€?food showcase in the lobby and slathered barbecue sauce on it. I thought maybe they had given me the plexiglass model from the food showcase in the lobby and slathered barbecue sauce on it.
Take the belief, a€?Ia€™m such a screw up.a€? Believing this may lead to feelings of shame, insecurity, embarrassment, sadness. These are called self-sabbotaging statements that are designed to keep us from happiness and serve as an excuse to keep us in a rut.
I better allot for more planning next time around.a€? Or the belief a€?good things are never going to happen for mea€? could change to, a€?Things are really difficult for me right now.
The Zippy OneZ comes in several adorable styles from hand knitted sweaters to footed pajamas to short sleeved jumpers. She is not someone who must ask repeatedly for attention and good behavior, whose voice gets muffled in the chatter of children, who anxiously picks at her nails and tears at her cuticles until tiny red bumps appear. I finally allow myself to smile as I imagine the opportunity to place a full handed slap across the face of the Neanderthal that came up with that brilliant idea. I ate my Papaburger Special at a giant picnic table in front of the place, joined by by six unruly kids who piled out of a van from Missouri. A redhead, a€?about 30, who Ia€™d seen walking with him earlier, chases after him for a a€?while, a€?calling his name. A redhead, about 30, who Ia€™d seen walking with him earlier, chases after him for a while, calling his name.
When we feel this way, we may act on these feelings by isolating or withdrawing from others, becoming dependent upon others to make decisions for us, developing more self-defeating statements about ourselves, etc. And now these paragraphs lie before you like stands of trees, a deep forest of wonder and darkness whose mystery beckons. Each morning Mother locked my thermos and only Miss Ranney could loosen it, leaning over me in her ivory crepe blouse until the cap sighed once, then was free. The rest of the orbit swirls out from there: King murdered the week of my senior prom, then Bobby in a hotel just miles from my school while I marched to Pomp and Circumstance, not knowing that within a year on a July night in the back seat of a Volkswagen, I would pledge what was left of my heart to a boy leaving for Vietnam while above us the tired moon finally gave in to a tiny man in gravity boots, planting an American flag. Shea€™s probably doodling on the desk, her long, dark lashes cast down as she tries to escape the demands of the classroom and enter into the world of her drawing. She is no longer a manipulative ten year old who pouts when she wants permission to draw hearts on the chalkboard or be excused to the lavatory for the third time in an hour.
Summit reminded me a€?of the fjord area around Bergen, Norway -- no trees, just rock and some hardy a€?vegetation. He had a€?fond memories of the place, which police shuttered in 1982 after 100 years of operation.a€?a€?Went out for a beer in Uptown, but the bars were too raucous. She gives up after 100 feet, turns and runs back to throw her a€?arms around the neck of the guy who did the thrashing, a very beefy fellow about a€?25 in a muscle T-shirt.
Summit reminded me of the fjord area around Bergen, Norway -- no trees, just rock and some hardy vegetation. He had fond memories of the place, which police shuttered in 1982 after 100 years of operation.Went out for a beer in Uptown, but the bars were too raucous. She gives up after 100 feet, turns and runs back to throw her arms around the neck of the guy who did the thrashing, a very beefy fellow about 25 in a muscle T-shirt. Ia€™m trying to ignore her insubordinationa€”she should be writing a paragraph like the rest of the six students in my after school reading classa€”but clearly another one of my tactics has failed.
In a moment, Alejandra has become a young woman learning how to manage the intimate details of our gender.
I turn around, ready to demand she sit back in her seat, prepared to be heard and heeded this time, but she is looking at me, wide eyed. Negatively, entire working class neighborhoods were gobbled up by the mining company as a€?the pit expanded.a€?The Uptown District is on the National Register of Historic Places but that's a€?not doing much for its current economic health. Negatively, entire working class neighborhoods were gobbled up by the mining company as the pit expanded.The Uptown District is on the National Register of Historic Places but that's not doing much for its current economic health.
They're trying to restore the a€?district but it still looks worn, like the subjects of an Edward Hopper painting.
They're trying to restore the district but it still looks worn, like the subjects of an Edward Hopper painting.
I love Hopper.a€?I stayed at the Mindlen Hotel, a 1924 knockoff of the now-demolished Astor a€?Hotel in NYC, but this version's only nine stories tall. I love Hopper.I stayed at the Mindlen Hotel, a 1924 knockoff of the now-demolished Astor Hotel in NYC, but this version's only nine stories tall.
The Mindlen's been a€?restored to its a€?original condition, which was that of a fine businessmen's hotel.
The Mindlen's been restored to its original condition, which was that of a fine businessmen's hotel. Tall-columned a€?lobby, chandeliers, marble floors.a€?I didn't detect there were any other guests with me on the second floor, which a€?is maybe why I slept so well.
Tall-columned lobby, chandeliers, marble floors.I didn't detect there were any other guests with me on the second floor, which is maybe why I slept so well.



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  1. KINQ_BOXINQ — 11.04.2015 at 18:30:42 Around at work (incidental mileage too) so to be secure, I'm taking socket is normally.
  2. Rahul — 11.04.2015 at 17:58:35 With power or lengthy-standing knee pain, may you will need substitute is essentially.
  3. SEBINE — 11.04.2015 at 11:34:16 Changing directions, laying down, standing up hip pain whereas.
  4. QaraBasma — 11.04.2015 at 13:40:53 Labrum is the cartilage problem (this is particularly essential since I am unable to sit seconds, then loosen.
  5. OKUW — 11.04.2015 at 17:19:15 Rubber ball at residence to sit down/lie on with my glute/hip region and.