The Elusive Plot

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How many authors or aspiring authors have a pile of unfinished manuscripts stacked in a drawer or on their computers? How many of them were so sure each one of these would be their best work yet, only to lose interest after a few thousand words?

I’m in danger of becoming one of those. A serial discarder.  A quitter.

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For the Love of Words Part 2

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I love using words like myriad paint colors to create images in readers’ minds. The English language allows me to use a wide pallet while the rules of writing and grammar set the boundaries that define the edges. But, like any language, English has its idiosyncrasies. I would like to look at a couple.

First, have you ever pondered whether to use “lie” or “lay” in a given situation? The rule sounds simple, right? Lie is a complete verb; an action taken by someone or something. To recline. Simple. I lie down. So far, so good. Lay is a transitive verb. It is something that happens to an object. To put something down. I lay the book down.

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The Struggle of Claiming the title ‘writer’

This post was originally published on Boondock Ramblings, January 21, 2020.

Writing a book is weird and hard. That’s sounds dramatic, I know. And it’s not like it is hard like farming or construction or being a doctor or a police officer. I don’t mean that, of course. I mean, writing is mentally draining and it’s full of a lot of self-doubts, even if you’re just doing it mainly for fun like I am.+

I am at the tail end of the first draft of ‘A New Beginning‘ and it is kicking my brain to the curb. I stare into space, trying to work out an issue I’m having with it or writing a scene in my head while I’m cooking dinner or a kid wants to show me something. It’s a bit like being stuck in a self-made prison and even when you try to escape it, your muse or whatever it is, comes back and whispers “Hey! I have another idea! Let’s go write!” That is all fun and aggravating at the same time. Why doesn’t my creative muse pick a different time to try to inspire me?

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For the Love of Words Part 1

Photo by Gaelle Marcel on Unsplash

When I was a seven-year-old child, I spent a few days home from school, confined to a sick bed. We were living in my grandmother’s house at the time, and she watched over me while my mom did some grocery shopping. Upon returning home, Mom gifted me with a surprise—a book. My delight was complete. Even at that age, I loved books and reading, and will never forget the joy my mom brought me that day.

My seventh grade English teacher, Miss D—an old-school teacher who never married but found purpose in encouraging her charges—further instilled a love of the English language as she endeavored to instill the rules of grammar into an unruly class of twelve- and thirteen-year-old students. Her passion and praise will always retain a special place in my memories. And, though I never aspired to write, I went on to get a degree in Performing Arts and English Ed due to Miss D’s influence.

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The Seen and Unseen Faith

Do yourself a favor, and go type on your favorite search engine, ‘antediluvian ruins.’ You will find multiple examples of monolithic structures all around the world that boggle the mind. Sacsayhuaman in South America, Malta, the Easter Island heads, and Gilgal Rephaim in Israel. There are tons more. Even recently discovered ruins in Turkey, with faint pictographs on the stone slabs, built similarly to Stonehenge that supposedly predates it by thousands of years.

How did they get there? How were they constructed? How are they so precise that they can mark stars, seasons and survive thousands of years worth of earthquakes and a biblical flood? That’s what ‘antediluvian’ means: Pre-Flood. They are worldwide, with similar superior construction, and scholars today don’t know how people with sticks, simple stone tools, and ropes often only made of hair could have built them. Much less transport the huge multiple ton blocks from their quarries miles away. Then, fit these huge blocks so well together that in the case of the ruins of Sacsayhuaman, a sheet of paper cannot fit between them. We can see these ruins, but they defy our limited logic and understanding unless we research them. I tried to do my research, and some description ends up in my book (find out more at maxbsternberg.com and ordering ‘The Rhise of Light’).

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