Why Zombie through Life when you can Dance, by Sandy Semerad

         When I was a child, I used to listen to music and dance around the house. I pretended to be the happy hero, rather than the little girl who’d lost her daddy. Daddy died of a heart attack when I was seven, and I worried Mama might die, and I’d have to live with my crazy aunt.

When I danced, I could be Ginger Roger or Fred Astaire. Today I love to dance while watching Dancing with the Stars, and see myself as a winner.

          

         For many years, I thought I was the only person who fantasized through dance. But then I met a hitchhiker named Mary. (I have a character like Mary in my second novel, Hurricane House.)

I came to know Mary after I’d moved from Atlanta to Florida. When I first met her I couldn't believe she was a hitchhiker. She looked like a fifty-year-old mother or grandmother.

Mary carried everything she owned in a duffle bag. Each item had been neatly packed, not what you’d expect from a hitchhiker.

“Aren’t you afraid to ride with strangers?” I asked her.

“I usually ride with truckers I trust,” she said, and went on to explain how she showered and washed her clothes in truck stops. To earn money, she cleaned the trucks she rode in, and when she felt lonely or sad, she danced.

Mary used to be an opera singer in New York City, she said. To prove it, she sang for me. She had a beautiful voice. When I asked her why she would give that up, she said she had a tear on her vocal cords.

Back then, she had planned to get surgery to repair the damage, but she lost her job as a switchboard operator. Technology had phased her out.

Without a paying job, she eventually lost her apartment and moved in with her boyfriend. Unfortunately, her boyfriend drank and abused her, as her parents had when she was growing up.

To escape the abusive boyfriend, she took a train to Seattle, thinking she could find a job there. She stayed in a homeless shelter while she searched for work. The shelter smelled like “stinky socks,” she said, and being a clean freak, she had to leave. That’s when she decided to hitch her first ride with a trucker, and she’d been hitchhiking ever since, she said.

Not easy and often scary, she admitted. The hardest part was learning to sleep sitting up and eating paper when she had no food.

She used to be an atheist, she said, but that all changed the day her hunger forced her to pray, “God if you’re there, help me.”

After the prayer, she looked down, and saw twenty dollars on the ground. From that day forward, she believed in God, she said.

A few weeks after I met and talked with Mary, she called me. It was almost Thanksgiving. I asked Mary if she’d like to come visit me for a few days. I didn’t expect her to clean and organize my house, but that’s what she did. She even rearranged and color coordinated my closet. I have never been that organized since.

I told everyone about Mary. I thought she could do the same for them, and eventually she might make enough money to get off the road.

One of my friends said she’d pay Mary to clean and organize her place. I thought Mary would be happy about this.

But when I told her, she frowned angrily. “I don’t want to clean her place. She smokes. I helped you, because I wanted to, and now my job is done.”

She asked me to drop her off at the MacDonald’s. “It’s time for me to hit the road and dance away,” she said. 

At first I felt sad leaving her there, but as soon as she jumped out of the car, she smiled and waved and appeared happy.

A month or so later I received a card from Mary. On the card, she’d painted a beach scene with a seagull flying in a blue sky—Mary would probably say the seagull was dancing.

Since then, I’ve lost track of her. I wish we could have kept in touch through the years. I’d like to know how she’s doing. She might be happy to know Larry and I have gotten married. She thought he was a stellar guy when she met him, and she was right.

She used to say she dreamed of opening up a truck stop to serve the truckers, who had been kind enough to let her ride with them. Serving others would allow her to dance, rather than zombie through life, she said, and she preferred to dance.

Whenever I hear the song I Hope You Dance, I’m reminded of Mary. Written by Mark Sanders and Tia Sillers, this song seems to express the inspiration she gave to me and offers guidance to us all. Here’s some of the lyric:

“I hope you still feel small when you stand beside the ocean,

Whenever one door closes, I hope one more opens,

Promise me that you’ll give faith a fighting chance,

And when you get the choice to sit it out or dance,

Dance…I hope you dance.”

Here's my second novel Hurricane House, where I patterned one of my characters after Mary: A hurricane hits a Florida fishing village with a murderer at large: 

                                    Buy from AMAZON

My latest novel, A Message in the Roses, is based on a murder trial I covered in Atlanta. It's also a love story.  

                           Buy from AMAZON

 

My first Mystery, Sex, Love & Murder: A young journalist, visiting New Orleans during Mardi Gras, is drawn into a series of murders involving the President. 

                            Buy from AMAZON

Please visit my website for more information: 

http://www.sandysemerad.com

Calling all Muses, Dead and Alive, by Sandy Semerad

As a writer, I’m always searching for a muse, and when country music superstar Merle Haggard died recently, I became reacquainted with his story and found him more inspiring than ever.

Haggard grew up dirt poor and became a hellion. He was sent to reformatory schools, but no school could reform him.  At 20, he robbed a restaurant. After he was arrested, he broke out of the county jail, was recaptured and sentenced to San Quentin. In prison, he gambled and brewed beer and was thrown into solitary confinement. There he conversed through an air vent with a death row inmate.

This conversation changed him, he said, and when Johnny Cash performed at San Quentin, Haggard was inspired to become a musician. He taught himself to play the guitar, and after his release, he worked in the oil fields, as he wrote and performed music. He eventually composed 38 number one hits.

I find his story amazing. He overcame impossible odds to achieve great success, and he found his muses in unlikely places.

Going for a simple walk can bring out a muse for me. I love to walk on the beach near where I live. Nature created the white sands from crystal rocks. The gulf sparkles like emeralds in the sunshine. I sometimes hear music in the gulf’s roar. The other day, Larry and I were walking our dog P-Nut, and I started to sing a tune I was hearing.

I asked Larry if he’d heard the tune before. He plays the piano and has performed with many musical groups. He also composes music.

“Sounds different,” he said.

I explained how the tune flowed through me. He didn’t think this was strange at all, but creative.

In thinking about the creative process, I remembered the time Larry asked me to sing, “If I Can Dream,” at the church where he plays piano. This song was written for Elvis Presley. Elvis was the only artist to record the song, as far as I know.

On the morning of my performance, I walked to the podium to sing, but then I flew into some kind of unconscious zone. The congregation clapped afterwards, so I figured I did okay.

Larry said, kindly, “You nailed it.”

The preacher smiled and said, “You wiggled your hips while you were singing.”

“You channeled Elvis,” Larry teased me.

But all joking aside, I’ve had many strange things happen to me, mostly when I write. I can never predict how my characters are going to behave. I think I know them. I have created their back story and outlined extensively, but then when I start the writing process, my characters always surprise me. They’re like jazz musicians. They know the structure and the rules, but they want to jam and do their own thing.

My characters eventually return to the story line, but I often have to figure out how to rescue them or not. Sometimes they create such a mess I must call on my slumbering muse. She’s the one who appears in my dreams after I go to sleep while thinking about the problem. This muse seems to have the ability to provide a solution by morning.

Most of the time, I draw from my own experiences, as a newspaper reporter, columnist, broadcaster, political activist, exercise enthusiast, wife, mother and grandmother. I’m more comfortable writing about what I know. Some of my favorite authors do the same. John Grisham, an attorney, writes great legal thrillers, and many of Stephen King’s protagonists are authors. In fact, King is considered one of American’s most prolific authors. Also, my fellow authors at Books We Love write tales on subjects they're passionate about.

In two of my novels (Sex, Love & Murder and A Message in the Roses), my protagonists are reporters. However in Hurricane House, the lead character is not a journalist, but a catastrophe Investigator (CAT, for short). Creating this unique protagonist seemed to make more sense. Luckily I know a CAT, and he generously shared his knowledge with me. As to describing the hurricane, that was easy. Larry and I have survived a few of those.

I created A Message in the Roses, from a murder trial I covered as a newspaper reporter in Atlanta. But even though I lived through this trial, I had to immerse myself in 80s music again and read news accounts from that time before my muse decided to resurface.

While working on the sequel, I’ve tried to set reasonable writing goals, allowing for my day job and family responsibilities. This time around, I’ve had to call on a variety of muses, alive and dead. Will they lift me to a higher plane and help me write my best novel yet? I hope so.

To read more about my writing, please visit my website: www.sandysemerad.com

          

Here’s my latest novel, A MESSAGE IN THE ROSES:

                                               Buy from Amazon

  

I'd Like More Peace in Today's Bloody Politics by Sandy Semerad

 I've been reading a book on nonviolent communication, hoping to achieve more harmony in my life.

I write about murder, but I prefer to live in harmony and get along, rather than argue. This particular book gives the following advice on how to do that: Don’t judge. Observe and listen. Mirror back what the other person is saying. It also provides tips on how to express feelings.

When I express my feelings, rather than keep them bottled up, I’m less likely to get angry. It’s helpful to use words like I’m feeling happy, sad, frustrated, angry, etc. and not use judgmental words like rejected, abandoned and attacked, this book advises.

As I was learning how to communicate better, my mind wandered to the tumultuous political climate and the heated rhetoric spouted by some of our Presidential candidates. I’m wondering what the experts could do to diffuse their anger.

What would they advise Republican front runner Donald Trump? He wants to “Make America great again,” he claims. “Build a wall and make Mexico pay for it.”

While his supporters agree with him, the Republican establishment would like to stop Trump. Former U.S. presidential candidate Mitt Romney called Trump “a fraud,” but Romney’s denouncement didn’t seem to hurt Trump’s campaign.

Many of Trump’s adversaries have entered the fray. Even popular author and liberal democrat Stephen King has criticized the billionaire businessman. King wrote this slogan which he thought best represented Trump’s philosophy: “If you’re white, you’re all right. Any other hue, I don’t trust you.”

Trump usually fights back, going for the jugular. He shouts, “Get them out,” referring to protesters attending his rallies. Or he might yell, “I’d like to punch him in the face.” Recently, a Trump supporter did just that at one of his events.

Supporters of nonviolence have recommended a much more civilized approach, but I doubt the angry rhetoric and name calling will stop anytime soon in this heated political climate.

Trump called Texas Senator Ted Cruz a liar, and referred to another competitor Marco Rubio, as “little Rubio,” and the battle escalated. Rubio responded by saying Trump’s hands were small, insinuating his manhood was also small. 

Ohio Governor John Kasich wants to position himself above the fracas with his “positive vision for America,” he says. But Kasich’s message doesn’t seem to resonate with the majority of voters. He won his home state, but trails in the polls, and claims he wouldn't accept a Vice Presidential nod from either Trump or Cruz. Senator Rubio failed to win Florida, his home state, a death knell for him, so he dropped out.

Cruz says he’s "Reigniting the Promise of America.” But I’m uncertain as to what this means. When I think of America, I think of the American people, a conglomeration of men and women and children, all nationalities, all races, religions, enjoying the freedoms stated in the Declaration of Independence, the Constitution, the Gettysburg Address, and the Emancipation Proclamation, although I would add the word women, to insure all women and men are created equal.

Cruz also wants to “Take America back.” Does he want to take us back to the time when the thirteen colonies declared independence from Britain in 1776? I have no idea.

I prefer clearer messages, and I cringe when I hear name calling and combative words coming from someone who wants to be hired as our next President.  

On the democratic side, the candidates appear more cordial. They focus on the issues and the differences between them. Although Senator Bernie Sanders has riled up voters by saying, "A political revolution is coming." When he asks his packed audiences of young voters “Are you ready for a revolution?” they yell, “Yes.”

While I don’t “feel the Bern,” I see his appeal. When I was in my teens and early twenties, I wanted to be a rebel, too.

Democratic front runner Hillary Clinton offers a more practical approach. “I will work for you,” is one of her slogans. “I’m fighting for you,” is another one. She has also countered Trump’s message. “America is already great,” she says. “I want to make America whole,” and recently I saw this sign attributed to her: “A woman’s place is in the White House.”

When Hillary Clinton ran against Barack Obama and lost to him in the 2008 election, her slogan was, “Solutions for America.”

 President Obama, a dynamic campaigner, used this saying, “Yes we can.”

In President George W. Bush’s campaigns, he had several different slogans: “Compassionate Conservatism,” “Leave no child behind,” “Yes, American can,” “Moving America Forward,” “A Safer World and More Hopeful America.”

President Bill Clinton used these: “Building a Bridge to the 21^st Century,” “Putting People First,” and “Don’t Stop Thinking about Tomorrow.”

One of my favorite Presidents, Abraham Lincoln, used this catchphrase at a time when we were embroiled in a Civil War. “Don’t Swap Horses in Midstream.”

But as far as avoiding conflict, many of these political figures, past and present, seemed to have subscribed to the adage, “Politics is a blood sport.”

As for me, I prefer to avoid bloodshed and combative behavior. I’d rather leave that to the characters in my novels.

Here’s my latest novel, A Message in the Roses:

Buy Link

Please visit my website to find out more:

http://www.sandysemerad.com/