Tag: life

THOUGHT FOR THE WEEK

by debrazauthor

It’s a new idea of mine. I thought I would title the upcoming posts as thought for the day but the truth is I doubt I’ll post everyday and I don’t want to disappoint you. I’d also like to get to know you, so please feel free to give me your thoughts.

Do you ever feel that whenever you get close to making a touchdown, the end zone gets moved further away? Sometimes I do. It was better for me. I was raised in an era that had lots of jobs for those just starting out and you could save for college even working in the mills. Most of the mills are gone, those jobs with them and college is out of reach without debt. A mortgage without the benefit of a home, rent so high you may never save enough for a downpayment.

We hear people talk about the American dream, how we all have the chance to reach the finish line, have our dreams come true, get that house. But do we all have the same chances? Did we ever?

THE HUMAN RACE

Greyhounds lined up at the starting gate,

chasing wooden American dreams.

Only one can win, the rest must fail,

is not as it seems.

We know the losers didn’t really try,

blinded by the rabbit, we do not see.

The winner loses the next race,

how shallow his victory.

The rabbit is always a step ahead,

the weight of the world on the hound’s backs.

They suffer, they live, continuing on,

it’s caring the rabbit master lacks.

So intent upon the rabbit run,

we allow the race to continue on.

We do not try to see the truth,

look beyond the glitter, to see the harm.

And so the masses struggle, running the race,

not knowing that they are lead.

Will understanding come at last,

when all the hounds are dead?

Debra Zannelli 

A Bark Of Love

by debrazauthor

If you’ve read any of the Sister World Novels you’ll notice the dogs. It’s obvious how much I love animals, especially dogs. There is a reason.

I don’t remember how old I was, neither do I remember why I was so sad. I hate crying in front of people. I hate it even more if it’s someone in my family. I’ve been known to climb out bathroom windows to find a good place to hide. Part of this may be that I can’t make a coherent sentence when I cry, no matter what I’m crying about. Maybe you feel like this too. I’d like to know I’m not the only one. Anyway back to dogs. Back then I lived in a small older home with a large farmers sink that sat pretty far out from the wall. The cupboards on either side had drawers that also didn’t go to the wall. For whatever reason, I was crying and there was no escaping the house. Small and skinny, I opened the door and managed to fit behind the pipes and the drawers. My cheerio box fit too. Munching on my treat, I suddenly heard a soft whining. I was worried Chipper, our dog, would give me away and I was enjoying the silent moments. I opened the door to shew him away. Chipper, so called because his beautiful white fur had round chocolate spots, had a better idea. I’ll never know how he did it, but somehow he managed to crawl inside. I could even close the door. He put his head on my shoulder, whined softly and enjoyed the cereal too. He understood me, he cried with me and made me feel less alone. I’ve thought of him in some of my saddest moments. You can’t buy love like that. He’ll always own a special place in my heart, just like I hope Spirit (Sister World) will find a place in yours.

TO BECOME

by debrazauthor

This is what I hoped I’d become. First there was the singer. I was sure Barbra Streisand would love me. Believe it or not, I really could sing, but now my voice has aged. I’ve written songs that will never be played. I have a rather limited knowledge of notes and timing needed for writing music down- self taught-so I developed my own method of writing my songs down, this means they’ll die with me. Jeffrey, if you read this, I have often wondered what would have happened had I joined your band and headed to California. You wanted me to be the lead singer, I was afraid of failing. Then there was the dream of being an author. I had so many things I wanted to talk about and no one to talk to so I made up stories that sat in the back of my closet, most still do. For a while I wanted to be a free spirit with no ties tethering me to the dirt I would one day be buried under. My best friend and I planned on taking the money we earned working after school, to buy motorcycles and head out. She decided to stay home, go to college and take care of her family. I choose to go to college, become a nurse and marry my new boyfriend over the open road, but since there’s no way a person my size could ride anything bigger than a scooter, and we’ve been married now for many,- I’m not telling- years that was the right choice. Nursing wasn’t for me, so I got my degree in business management, once again putting my writing aside. At least I got to sing in the chorus, then the choir and finally at weddings. I loved it, but I stilI wanted to be a famous author. I finally left the free spirit thing completely go, deciding that now that I was a wife I might as well be a mother. It took a long time, but in that I finally succeeded, so maybe that was what I was meant to become. I’ve never stopped wanting to see everything, know where every road goes, see the miracle of life in all its guises. I still do. Later I became obsessed with staying alive. The Headaches making me wish I’d die didn’t change this. Survival only increased my desire to write. I still wanted to be a famous author. I still poured out my soul in my poems and characters, so I settled for being an author. But the dream never dies.

AUDIO BOOKS

by debrazauthor

Submitted.

OMG, I’ve done it. All the files, covers and details for my audio book are complete. I watched my pocketbook shrink, but this feeling is priceless. Having Dark Night Of The Soul recognized by the American Legacy awards is a really big deal to me. My heart and soul went into every page. I told my 7th grade English teacher that I wanted to be a writer. It took 42 years, a close encounter with death and many life changing moments to make that dream come true. Mrs. Lanoue, if you read this, I’ve never forgotten you. Sometimes I wonder what the 17 year old me would say to me, what would I say to her. Would she tell me to follow my friends and go to California. Jeffrey, a very talented musician, sexy too, invited to be the lead singer in his band. Obviously I didn’t go. Was this a missed opportunity, a chance to follow my other dreams, or a lucky escape from unknown dangers? What would I tell me when I was making that decision? Would I tell her to avoid the people and things that hurt me? Even now, approaching 70, I can say that avoiding the things that came as I aged, may have lead me to things far worse. Unanswerable questions will always be unanswered. I don’t think there’s one clear path, there is only the one we choose.

I have to get back to my books. All my characters faced difficult choices. I had them make the choices that I hope I would have made. Life has a way of sneaking into our art. Now for the somewhat funny moment. The other choices my characters could have made would have made for very boring books.

There are so many things I could say. The things that hurt me blessed me in ways I didn’t expect. Being poor made me realize how little value money has. Thinking I wouldn’t wake up, made me realize how much I wanted to look into my husband, my babies face meant to me. Taking many years to have my son, made me learn that all children are ours. Facing possible death taught me how strong I am. When I held my child in my arms I learned the value of life. Some say it takes almost losing your life to learn how to live. For me, it did. We are temporary. Live your best life, even when it hurts. And today smile for me. You can never have enough smiles.

New Covers, Audio Books and Old Age

by debrazauthor

I hate that head line but it’s true. I’ve gotten new, beautiful, covers for the books in the Darkness and Light series. My first, and unless I become a John Grisham, my only audio book will be released soon. When I first published Dark Night Of The Soul, the first book in the series, I was too concerned with the cost of publishing, than what the cover should look like. Titles are what draw me to books, but that isn’t true for most of us. Though I don’t regret making my own covers for the Sister World Series, BookFest loved them almost as much as I do, I do regret not following my instincts. Once Dark Night became the first in the Darkness and Light series, I knew the other covers should have Marcus on each of them. I just didn’t know how to do it. I created covers showing what he went through, not uniting them by who he was and what he became..

Although I can’t think of a time in my life when I didn’t love books and hoped to one day be more than just someone who read them, I was swimming in a pool without a life jacket. You would have laughed to see my 14 year old self taking beginner swimming lessons with the little kids (6-10 years old). I was more self-conscious than I am today, but I wanted to swim, so I put my head down and swam across the pool. I hope you see how I, once again, put my head down and swam across the pool, only this time it was pen, ink and a keyboard filling the pool. It really wasn’t that different than what I’d done before, Though the water is still over my head, today is different. Today I have a husband who, though he may not understand my desire, wants me to follow my dream, I have time to sit at this computer and however frustrating it is, I can try to figure out what I have to do,. I have friends and colleagues who help and support me. I don’t know you and you don’t know me, which means I really cannot offer you advice, What I can say is you should seek out those who support you, move forward even when your tired and force yourself to learn, even when you’re told the technology involved has left you behind. I’m frustrated, but I’m alive. Tomorrow may not come, but I have today. Yesterday is a fading memory that can and always does bring back memories showing a life well lived, but today is all we have. Live it well.

Book Descriptions

by debrazauthor

It’s funny, but for me it was easier to write books than to tell my readers what they’re about and don’t even ask me to talk about myself. I’ve done pretty good here but I actually hate doing it. It seems to me that when you talk about your life it can seem like you’re being overly dramatic. Most lives are lived, as is often said, in the quiet spaces between adventure and boredom. I was mostly on the side of being boring but then I learned that even a life lived quietly can have moments of deep anguish or joy, sometimes both. I knew I’d marry the man I’m still married to when I was seventeen. If you want to hear the fairy tale version, you’ll have to read fiction. It hasn’t been a fairy tale. What it has been is love, its triumphs and pain. He hurt me as no other could and I’m sure I returned the favor. No matter. He loved me and I know I returned that favor. He still makes me laugh. I do most of the laughing, he does most of the protecting. A fair exchange of abilities. It is in this relationship that I created the ones lived out by my characters. We aren’t easy. Complex and quite often perplexing, we struggle to find our place. I think this is true, though I won’t say this is something I know. The place we make for ourselves is not our destiny. I’s a complex cohesion of what we want, what we need, what we accept and what we’re forced to accept. To those who rise, you have my support and admiration, to those who accept the imperfections of those we love and those who find a way to move forward, I will forever be in your dept. I’ve heard that love is enough, but it must always start with loving who we are and who we need to be.

Being Me

by debrazauthor

I imagine everyone has a time in their life when they wonder what happened to the person they thought they would be. We lose some of ourselves, between trying to meld our life to another’s and changing to meet the demands of the reality we face when we’re no longer wide eyed, ready to take on the world children. We discover ourselves as we grow but mostly we discover ourselves when we’re grown. I didn’t become the famous singer I had hoped to. Neither did I become a successful author, though I’m still trying. Publishing the first book took many years but brought me more joy than a single post can express. In that first book, I stripped Marcus of all his hopes and expectations. In their place I gave him a fierce strength to become, as much as he could, the man he had once hoped to be. I think this is something many of us do. There are some successes and of course, failures. A failure doesn’t mean you should give up, it means you need to find another way forward, if only one small step at a time. The Long Road Back to me is the short story I wrote and am proud to say was published in the ARIA anthology Rhode Trip. Though it’s fiction, I think everyone can identify with the feelings contained in the story. I’m including an excerpt, hoping you’ll enjoy it, but also hoping you’ll check out the anthology. I’m only one of many authors and all are deserving of the time it will take you to read their stories.

The Long Walk Back to Me

by Debra Zannelli

It’s the smallest state, only forty eight miles across, only forty three for me, still I think the crossing will take me years. I wonder if two days will be long enough when I have a lifetime of things to think about, things I should have thought about a long time ago. I’m leaving for good though it’s hard to believe. I’m walking because everything I have is his and though I could take some things with me, I don’t want any of it. I hocked the diamond on my way to work. The manager of the store across the street from the bank where I worked, took it without asking any questions. My boss had lots of questions. I told her I wasn’t staying, and wouldn’t be coming back. I’m not burning bridges, I’m destroying them. Before I left, I closed out my checking and savings accounts and emptied our vacation account. The money won’t buy me a new life but it’s a down payment.