Untitled. So far.

I know I have been AWOL for over a month. I am trying to find a balance between School, Work, and what type of writing I actually want to do. I feel like journalism is what I want to do, because I love reporting. At the same time, I really want to become an author. I like creating my own stories as well. I think I will try to balance both, on top of all of the research papers, discussions, and essays required in in my Journalism major. This is something I started writing today that I really feel could become a great story. I will be posting this rough draft so far on here, but I will be maintaining a second page coming in Late October that will be exclusively for excerpts from books I want to write. I would like to start selling them on Amazon shortly. I tend to keep things short when I write stories, but I wouldn’t mind feedback on if you feel that this story could have more package to it.

Alright, here is the beginning of the story. Do not hesitate to express your opinions in a comment below. I would be more than happy to respond.

“I could go on to create some elaborate delusion about how my Father is the president of a finance company and my mother is an accomplished lawyer, but my family is too well known in this city. Instead, I’ll just tell you the truth before someone else does.

My father is an abusive drunk who we rarely see. If he isn’t out with one of the crack whores up and down the avenue, he’s out swindling some poor passerby for booze money. I don’t know why my mother stays with the bastard, but she won’t leave no matter how many ideas I come up with. I plan to change that very soon.

My mother was adopted by some old German family back when she was like 9 years old. She didn’t know her biological parents, and some days I envy that. Her dad died when she was 16, and her mom died when she turned 17. That’s when she met my dad.

From what I’ve heard, my dad was a great man in the beginning. He was in college for Business, had his own house and his own car. He met my mother when she was 19 and working at a Burger King and offered to treat her for dinner. Of course, like any 19 year old girl who has become an outcast, she falls in love with him out of what I assume is pure desperation. They get married and here I come out a year later.

A part of me believes I am the reason dad turned to drinking and prostitutes. My mom felt that she had to “give me the love her mother didn’t give her” or something like that. I completely engulfed my mom’s life, and the two rarely spent time together. It’s sad, honestly. By the time I was 4 years old I knew I hated him. That was time when I realized he treated mom badly.

13 years have passed, and the feelings remain the same. I can’t wait to get out of this house. I’m taking mom and my little sister with me.”

From a Fellow author. His message to his daughter, and why he chooses to not fight.

I read a piece by a recent follower that was really something special. It is a piece about his daughter, Ever, and the relationship between them, and how it affects the entire family. Take a look.

If By Chance You Ever Wonder If I Think About You.

“My Dearest Daughter,

I haven’t seen you since August of last year, and there’s not a day that goes by that I don’t think about you. I talk about you constantly, to everyone.

It’s kind crazy.

You know, when I first met your mommy she had adoption books on the shelf in her room. She didn’t think she could have a child. And she left the man before me because he wouldn’t adopt with her. Because he didn’t want children. At least that’s as much information as she ever told me.

So I understand why she keeps you from me. You are everything she has ever coveted. You are Ever.

She wanted you more than anything she has ever wanted in the world. That’s why we named you Ever. Because you were her dream come true.

So I understand possibly why she keeps you from me, and why she says and does the things she does. Your Mommy doesn’t like to share what is most valuable to her.

I can understand that. And I can forgive her for it because I know what you mean to me, and if you mean as much to her, as you do to me, and I was a different person, who didn’t know this pain, the pain of losing a child, I wouldn’t share you either.

I would also like to point out,

You were mine too, and so, when I knew how much your mommy loved babies, I gave her one. For I wanted a family more than anything. I never really had a family, and thus my dream was to wake up next to my soulmate, and my baby everyday, and have that sense of beauty in my life.

So you are also everything to me.

So here’s why I didn’t fight harder earlier.

I don’t believe children are property to fight over.

My father committed suicide over the loss of his soulmate and children. My mother was taking him to court. And when he died I saw how it affected my brother, my mother, and I. I saw what hate and spite can do to a family.

And I swore I would never do that. I still don’t want to. I dont believe that you are property. I believe that you are a person. A little sweet angel in my life.

You have missed out on many many things as have I because of spite.

Your Uncle ask about you alot. My brother, his name is John. He calls you the chosen one.

Your grandma, my mom, well…she hurts so bad from losing you, I guess she doesn’t really talk.

And your great grandma, who you will probably never meet because of your mother’s hate, ask about you daily. She is getting older now. It was just her birthday. You would have loved her so.

And for all of these things, I forgive your mother. I’m sorry that they even have to be said. If I didn’t though, you would never know how much we loved.

So when you read all of these letters one day.

Know that I loved both of you. That I thought about you everyday, and that I would be there if I could.

And that many, many, many more people can’t wait to see you as well.

It’s very late my beautiful child. I hope you are sleeping with the angels, and had a good day today, and we’re good to your Mommy and didn’t drive her to crazy.

I love you forever,

Always, Daddy.

Aldous Thoreau.”

If you enjoyed this piece, you can find more of his work on his Facebook page www.facebook.com/aldousthoreau

Google Kids? Google to target Age group 13 and younger

    I stumbled upon an article this morning regarding Google targeting Children 13 years and younger for a search engine chocked full of privacy protection, filters, and kid friendly sites cultivated with unlimited creativity. Although the idea seems promising in this technology era, is it wise? If you would like to read the article, it is available here.

    I do agree with the idea overall. In a perfect world, children in that age bracket should not be fed technology at such a young age. I feel it promotes an anti-social outlook on life and poor human interaction capabilities as they grow older. However, we live in a society where life is easier when it’s online. I consider Google’s idea as “taking the bad with the good” because even though it seems like a habit waiting to happen, it’s safer than a child going to learn things from a complete stranger. As I have said before, children are easily influenced. At least with this idea parents can see what their children are looking at.

    As there are thugs, bullies, and criminals within every society, so there will be in technology. The strongest security in the world cannot keep out a hacker, as we have seen and heard on numerous occasions. So is anyone to say there can’t be a security breach? Is there anyone to say there can be? There will be pros and cons to this idea. It’s all about the risk factor with the parent.

Ferguson.

This isn’t about the verdict. What’s done is done. Dwelling on something will only cause discontent, and then the issue at hand is no longer the problem. No justice system is perfect. Each has it’s own flaws. We as citizens have to understand the power we actually have. Just think, television networks only broadcast what is popular, especially News networks. Why not focus our attention on other things? In my humble opinion, race is not the issue. The only reason race is still the trump card is because we’ve already been adjusted to realize racism once existed in this country. Why can things not just happen? No one is born racist. Racism is taught nowadays through an elder generation. Or better yet, think about this one;

History class in school tells us about slavery. Correct. History class then goes on to discuss how many white men killed black men. Wait, slavery was never about killing. Did slaves die during slavery? Yes. However, slavery was about manual labor at a cheap price for profit. I’m not overlooking the killings, I’m putting up a barrier to show two sides.

The never dying “right” for black people to be angry at white people has to go away. Slavery was not only one-sided. Did Americans at the time by slaves? Yes. Were they from Africa? Not all of them, but yes. Were the slaves tricked by whites (as some proclaim) and brought here? Myth. Leaders of African villages would stage “kidnappings” of the poorer Africans and sell them to the Whites in exchange for, guess what? Cotton. And other goods, of course.

Ignorance and disdain are the only two things to have come from both sides of this debate. No one alive today is responsible for slavery, and no one alive today was born into slavery. It’s time to end the blame game. It’s ingrained in every one to feel a certain position and obligation to uphold feelings from generations before our time. That doesn’t make it right. White people have no entitlement to regards towards slavery, and neither do blacks. If everyone is truly concerned about moving forward towards a world of acceptance, here are a few personal guidelines I feel will at least help.

1) Don’t join a gang. This goes for everyone living. If you want to be treated like a citizen, then act the part of a citizen. Causing mayhem and stirring up violence is the one label that will easily target a specific group (minorities to be exact)

2) If the shoe fits, well guess what? Females first. If you are wanting to be respected, then you have to look the part. Wearing revealing clothes and wondering why no one will take you seriously is like performing poorly at work and wondering why you won’t get promoted. Same applies for guys. No one respectable wears sagging clothes. Put on a belt, fix your hair, and go work on your resume. Do not get upset when you play the “freedom of individuality” card and it gets declined. There are plenty of ways to express your self. Your clothes do not have to speak for you. Write a book. Work on a hobby. Draw something. But do not get upset for being looked at as a stereotype when you clearly fit the bill.

3)  Follow the rules. If the speed limit is 35, and you’re going 50, then you’re already asking for trouble. As ridiculous as a law may sound, it’s there for a reason. We are no longer children. There are rules to follow to keep us in good standing with the law.

4) Assume. Open your mind to look beyond what is in front of you. The truth is, we assume the worst, yet we don’t want the worst to be assumed of us. When two children of different backgrounds are picking on each other, racism is not the reason. Let’s not put ideas in their heads. Children are easily influenced.

I am aware there are plenty of individuals who do not agree with me. It can’t be helped. These are simply a few rules I follow myself, and I have yet to steer myself wrong. (Ok, I’ve been called a terrorist once. But in all defense, it was Texas.)

Preview of: Adam

    Hello all. I have been going through some stressful times to think of what I want to do with this personal writing career I am starting. I’ve gone to great lengths to find inspiration, and I realized I was looking in all of the wrong places.

    I have learned to not look in myself, but to look into how I would like to see things, while maintaining a realistic approach. With that being said, I have started a completely new style of writing. Now, I won’t be giving everything away for free. I will soon be self publishing my first book, and I will be sending 10% of each sale to www.childrenscancer.org.

Without further ado, I give to you a short preview of one of my short stories in “Silver Hearts: Optimistic Short Stories of Real Conditions.” I give to you an excerpt from “Adam“:

    “As the buses pick up the students, and the parents arrive to take home car-riders, Ms. Hanover asks Adam and his parents if they could stay back for a moment.

    “Mr. and Mrs. Benson, I wanted to talk to you about Adam,” Ms. Hanover starts. “Is everything alright?” Mrs. Benson asks.

    “Oh yes,” Ms. Hanover says. “Adam has been an amazing student since in the month he has been here. I was a bit concerned at first. I did not know how he would fit in with the rest of the students, or how the students would accept him. I was very pleased when the class told me they had known about his condition this long and had continued to treat him no different than they accept each other.”

    “We are very happy to hear that,” Mr. Benson says. “We were a bit skeptical about sending him back to school this early. Between the constant hospital visits and the general stress on Adam and us as a family, it was not an easy decision for us to make.”

    “Well, I assure you Adam is doing very well, “Ms. Hanover assures them. “His attitude is very polite, and his communication skills are above the average for a child with that has gone through so much.” As Ms. Hanover continues to speak with Mr. and Mrs. Benson, Adam is in the back of the classroom writing his alphabet. Mrs. Benson gets up to see how well he is able to write them.

    “Honey, why are you writing with your left hand?” Mrs. Benson asks. “Ms. Hanover, you are aware Adam is right-handed, yes?”

    “Yes I am, Mrs. Benson.” Ms. Hanover answers. Mr. Benson and Ms. Hanover walk over to join Mrs. Benson in awe as her son writes identically with his left hand as he does with his right hand.

    “I teached myself to write with my other hand so if I lose my right hand, I can still write,” Adam says without looking up. Ms. Hanover and Adam’s parent did not know how to respond to his reason.

    “Could we step outside of the classroom for a moment?” Mr. Hanover asks. Mrs. Benson and Ms. Hanover follow Mr. Benson outside of the classroom. Mrs. Benson looks back to make sure Adam is alright.

    “Ms. Hanover,” Adam’s Father starts.

    “I know what you are going to say, and I assure you I am accommodating Adam without making him feel singled out.” Ms. Hanover answers.

    “So you are aware of Adam’s occasional muteness?” Mrs. Benson asks.

    “I am. It was not apparent at first, but I went home and looked into it, and it is usually only apparent when the child is in a stressful environment. I do what I can to keep the classroom stress free.”

    “As a teacher, you sure do go out of your way to accommodate for children in your classroom,” Mr. Benson adds.

    “As a teacher, it is my job to care for each student as if they were my own. With Adam, it is personal. I volunteer at the Adoption agency Adam lived in. I was shocked to see he had been adopted and has ended up in my class. When I met you two, I knew Adam went to a loving family. Being a single mother, I lost my son to cancer three years ago. Adam reminded me of my son when he was his age. I understand the emotions you two are going through, and I do my best to do my part as his guardian in school.””