Thursday, April 20, 2023

The Key of the Door....by Sheila Claydon

 



I'm 21 today, 21 today
I've got the key of the door
Never been 21 before
And Pa says I can do as I like
So shout, Hip Hip Hooray
He's a jolly good fellow 
21 today

We took flowers and presents and we all sang the first 3 lines before my eldest granddaughter blew out the candles and we did shout Hip Hip Hooray before she cut the cake but that was as far as we went. This traditional coming of age song  (in the UK) is long and meandering and meant to be sung by a young man because when it was written (1911), young ladies didn't enjoy a similar independence.

So why do we celebrate 21 so enthusiastically and does it happen world wide? Interested, I did some research and discovered that in the UK it stems from medieval times when a young boy was training to become a knight. At 7 years of age he would leave home to become page to a knight and for the next 7 years would be his servant. Not until he reached the grand age of 14 would he be made a squire and his duties elevated to looking after his master's armour and weapons and to saddling his horse. His duties stretched further. He was also expected to follow his knight into battle acting as his flag bearer, and in the unfortunate event of his master being killed, would have to bury him. A very different life from the 14 year olds in Western countries today! 

If the boy managed to survive all of that and grow to manhood he would be dubbed a knight in his own right when he reached the age of 21, and be celebrated. 

From this, and very gradually, 21 became the established age of majority. While the tradition was to give the  young person the key of the door, symbolising that they were old enough to make their own decisions and come and go as they pleased, legally it was significant.  It was the age when people could marry without parental consent, the age when an apprenticeship ended in many trades, the age at which a person could vote, the age in which guardianship came to an end for orphaned children. There were exceptions of course, because until the Equal Franchise Act was passed in 1928 women could not vote until they were 30 and then only if they owned property. 

There were other anomalies too. Young couples who managed to travel to Scotland could marry at 16 and, despite the many changes in the law that have taken place in the past century, Gretna Green, where most of these marriages took place, is still considered a place of romance, with couples from all around the world choosing to get married there in a ceremony performed over a blacksmith's anvil in a centuries old tradition. So popular was the idea that it was sometimes part of a plot in fiction in earlier times, the best example being Pride and Prejudice by Jane Austin.

Nowadays, with the legal majority reduced to 18, celebrating a 21st birthday carries far less significance and is mainly only celebrated because it's fun, and everyone likes a party! There are, however, still one or two things that cannot be undertaken until a person of either sex reaches their 21 majority. For example  they cannot drive large vehicles, gain a pilot's licence, supervise a learner driver, or adopt a child. Fortunately I don't think my granddaughter is contemplating any of those things. She just enjoyed her party!

Postscript:

In the UK in Anglo-Saxon times a young person was considered adult at the age of 11. This was later increased to 12, which continued until Norman times when the age of majority was extended to 16 except for those training to become knights. How times have changed. We no longer send children as young as 5 into the black hellhole of underground mines, or up chimneys to sweep out the soot, or into battle at 14. Nor do apprentices any longer sleep where they work, relying solely on their masters for the food they eat. Sadly, in many of the war torn and poverty stricken countries around the world, however, similar things still happen. Children have no option but to take on responsibilities that would deter most adults. Children as young as 5 work 14 hour days picking cacao beans while 11 year olds work from dawn to dusk in the heat and dirt of a blacksmith's forge because they are their family's main or only breadwinner. There are children who have to scavenge on scrap heaps, others who work in unregulated factories and, even more dreadfully, there are still 14 year olds who have to go into battle, not with a flag following their knight, but with rifles and machetes as they fight for their lives and the lives of their families.  While these are not things that need to be contemplated by more fortunate youngsters enjoying a 21st birthday party, hopefully they will at least think of them later when they realise that, at last, the really are adults.



 

Wednesday, April 19, 2023

Helping Others by Helen Henderson

 

Windmaster Legend by Helen Henderson
Click the title for purchase information

April, the fourth month of the year in the Gregorian and Julian calendars and the first of four months to have a length of 30 days. Last month I used the name of the month as a verb and pictured prancing horses. To come up with some inspiration for this post, I went to the National Day Calendar. The days for April range from the tasty (National Pineapple Upside Down Cake Day) to the historic, National Ellis Island Family History Day, The one item I love to eat. The other? At least one set of my ancestors immigrated from the old country and I have researched whether or not they came through Ellis Island.

Normally I don't disclose too personal information, but I'm breaking that tradition to acknowledge Volunteer Recognition Day with some thoughts on answering the call for help.

The aftermath of Superstorm Sandy

Disasters can bring out the best and the worst of people. After the recent tornadoes in Tipton County, Tennessee, the area pulled together. While age and other reasons meant I held down the homefront, a family member spent a day helping pick up debris. It reminded me of another disaster. The largest Atlantic hurricane on record as measured by diameter, an event referred to as Superstorm Sandy. Taking in a family member who was without power doesn't qualify as volunteering. However, helping people move out of a storm damaged house, doing the demolition work necessary to remove flood-damaged sheetrock does. Then for several years afterwards, the volunteer help continued as the rebuilding efforts continued.

The ultimate critic of whether a job was done right.

Over the years of remodeling a house built in 1915, I have observed more than one person assume the position upon entering a room where work was being done. No, I don't mean the spread-legged lean against a wall for a pat-down search. The men stood with hands on their hips and surveyed my efforts. As part of Superstorm Sandy recovery,  I was helping a contractor tape and spackle a newly-sheetrocked room. He was less obvious and to my pleasure, and surprise considering it was my first time taping joints, the work was acceptable.
 

Being in period garb helped me get close enough
to take for this picture.

An interest in history has yielded other volunteer opportunities, and I still use the experience gained at them today. I don't build physical houses, but fantasy worlds. I may not travel to the past except in reenactments, but it helps me understand my characters travel through times past. Hours of unpaid work have been spent as director of a local history museum, caring for their artifacts, or digging out fragments of history with trowel and screen. I won't say where or when it was, but at one major history event, I did more than collect money at the admissions gate and keep the cars moving. I parked hundreds of cars. What was even more fun was helping get the cars out of the park when the event ended. I even had the change to use my whistle, a handy tool to get a driver's attention to make them stop and wait their turn, or to get them moving forward.

Whether you have volunteered your time and talents or been the recipients of other's efforts, I hope you enjoyed these memories.

To purchase the Windmaster Novels: BWL

~Until next month, stay safe and read.   Helen


Helen Henderson lives in western Tennessee with her husband. While she doesn’t have any pets in residence at the moment, she often visits a husky who have adopted her as one the pack. Find out more about her and her novels on her BWL author page.




Tuesday, April 18, 2023

April is Poetry Month! by Nancy M Bell


To learn more about Nancy's work please click on the image above.


Spring is here. I think... It's April and April is poetry month, so it must be spring. My mare is shedding her winter coat, the gophers are out and stealing her grain while she's eating it. But there is still 5 feet of snow drift on my back garden....so Spring...what the heck!

But I digress. As I mentioned, April is poetry month. So my goal this year is to write a poem a day in April. I've done this before many years ago and then just sort of lost the time to do this when life kind of took over. When you read this, it will be April 18th, so hopefully I will have 18 poems under my belt by then. I'll let you know how I fare in next month's blog.  

For those of you who write poetry, come join me in my April quest. For those of you who dabble or don't write poetry at all...why don't you go for it. Not necessarily a poem a day, but maybe just one or two for the month. Poetry is amazing, so many forms, so many emotions and moods it can invoke. I find poetry cathartic myself, somehow giving the emotions or thoughts the freedom of lighting on the blank page gives me freedom to let them go. 

Poetry is joy, sorrow, grief, love and whatever name you wish to attach to it. So come on, let's go for it! April Poem a Day here we come.

Just to whet your whistle, here are a couple of my older poems.

From 2011

Spring Snow

Nancy M Bell

The storm demons are howling rabidly across the sky

Dragging their icy talons against the window glass

Screeching their defiance through the hydro wires

Buffeting the house with their fists of wind


Shrieking they the fall upon the exposed prairie

Vomiting great gouts of snow to cover the earth

They hurl handfuls of icy pellets in my face

As I struggle to let the stock into the barn

 

Mean spiritedly they snatch the door from my frozen fingers

Slamming it open and popping one of the hinges

I bare my teeth at them and wrestle the door from their grasp

Hold it steady as the horses troop in out of the angry storm

 

The bale of hay spills its summer scent in the frigid air

A sunlit meadow song to battle the storm raging outside

The storm demons grab me in their teeth and shake me

As I blindly make my way back to the house

 

Power and fury personified; they scream their defiance

Their voices howling through the wind in my ears

Reluctant to exchange the winds of winter

For the thunderheads of summer 

   

Bitter Ashes

The taste of bitter ashes on my tongue

All the more potent for their age

The things I should have said

Coiled about the things I did say


Time slides by in endless flood

Bearing my choices out of reach

Things I can’t change

Things I wouldn’t change

 

That line from an old Kristofferson song:

“I’d rather be sorry for something I’ve done,

Then for something that I didn’t do.”

Oh, the things I didn’t do!

 

Choices that affected other’s lives

More compassion here, more forgiveness there

The phone calls I didn’t make

The words I didn’t say

 

The taste of bitter ashes on my tongue

More potent for their age


All I Want

All I want is to walk in Grace

To live my life under the wide sky

With a good horse under me

And endless country in front of me

 

All I want is to make each day count

For something; no matter how small

I fed a stray dog the rest of my sandwich

I put seed out for the birds and food for the feral cats

 

All I want is to be happy in my skin

To know I’ve done the best I can

With what I had to work with today

And know that I will try to do the same tomorrow

 

All I want is the wide sky sweet with dawn

And the morning breeze on my face

Followed by the burning blue noon

With the sun at its zenith

 

All I want is the golden sky of sunset

And the dry prairie wind hot on my neck

The softness of evening gilding the range

As the gold melts into the royal blue of night

 

All I want is the silver of moonlight

To throw shadows across my bed

While the song of the coyote rides through the night

To know that all is right with my world

  

Till next month, be well, be happy.



 

Monday, April 17, 2023

A Plot Is Just A Plan by Janet Lane Walters #BWLAuthor #MFRWAuthor #Writing #Plot #Plan

 

Many years ago, more than fifty, I went to hear a NYTimes Best Selling Author speak at an all day event in Pittsburgh. The first thing he said was "A plot is just a plan." The plan is where your characters play their roles. I took this to heart and read books on writing and focused on Plot.

Just what does this mean. Think of the plot of your story being like planning a trip using a road map. There is a starting place. Why are the characters in this particular place? What do they plan? How does the plot and setting effect their decisions and directions.

Once the characters have set off on their way toward the goal they have selected, you come to the middle. This may be where the characters remain on the road or perhaps take a side trip of two. The middle of the plot shows the decisions they make and what changes those decisions may cause.

The end of the journey shows they have either succeeded, failed or changed their initial goal. This includes the crisis, the moment of decision and then the characters leave the plot, happily My Places

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bid=113639528680724

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Buy Mark

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 or sadly but always the road ends in a satisfactory way.

Sunday, April 16, 2023

Capturing the reader's emotions, by J.C. Kavanagh

 

Book 3 of the award-winning Twisted Climb series:
A Bright Darkness
https://www.bookswelove.net/kavanagh-j-c/

When I began to write creatively, I wanted to write a story that would have some kind of impact on my readers - whether they be teenagers, young adults, or a young-at-heart adult. I didn't want to preach a narrative; rather, I wanted the characters to react to real life drama and adventure in a way that would resonate with the reader. The character evoked the response in the reader, either by what they said or what they did. If the character becomes 'real' in the mind of the reader, then the character's emotion becomes the reader's emotion. That, my friend, is a fine, visceral line for the author to convey.  

Can our books make a difference? Yes. A resounding yes. 



One of my friends told me that her daughter felt a connection to Jayden, one of the main characters in The Twisted Climb series. Jayden is a brash, assertive teenager who is torn between being 'nice' and being 'bully.' My friend's daughter does not have those personality traits, so why did she feel a connection to Jayden? Apparently she felt uncertain of her place in the world/school/friends and that uncertainty evoked an internal, angry response. When my friend's daughter read the following in The Twisted Climb: "There was only one way to make herself feel better. (Jayden) had to make someone else feel worse" well, my friend's daughter started to cry and then shared with her mom that she felt the same emotional turmoil, but was at a loss on how to deal with it. That honesty opened up a new dimension in their relationship, one that they've maintained to this day.

Recently, another friend said she had to share something very important with me. We met and she told me the following.

"When my son read 'A Bright Darkness,' where the plot revolves around the Ojibwe myths and the Seven Fires Prophecies, he was shaken to his core. You see, we are native Indian, from the Anishinaabe First Nation, and all his life he was reluctant to embrace the spirituality of our peoples. He's almost 60, by the way. So he phoned me, almost in tears, to tell me he was sorry he didn't espouse the native way as I did. And that he wanted to re-discover his heritage, because it's never too late."

If we can share a story or create a character that makes a difference in the life of a reader, well, I call that wonderful. I call that satisfying. It's one of the greatest compliments a writer can receive.

Thank you to all the readers who accept a created character and make them as real as can be in the playground of their mind. 



J.C. Kavanagh, author of
The Twisted Climb - A Bright Darkness (Book 3)
and
The Twisted Climb - Darkness Descends (Book 2) voted BEST Young Adult Book 2018, Critters Readers Poll and Best YA Book FINALIST at The Word Guild, Canada
AND
The Twisted Climb,
voted BEST Young Adult Book 2016, P&E Readers Poll
Voted Best Local Author, Simcoe County, Ontario, 2021
Novels for teens, young adults and adults young at heart
Email: author.j.c.kavanagh@gmail.com
www.facebook.com/J.C.Kavanagh
www.amazon.com/author/jckavanagh
Twitter @JCKavanagh1 (Author J.C. Kavanagh)
Instagram @authorjckavanagh


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