Humbly, I request that you might overlook the post I made on Wednesday evening, and then quickly deleted. I’m testing out some fresh approaches in marketing my next book. My efforts to load a video link into WordPress didn’t go as expected, yet the email went out. For those of you who received the email, you could view the video even though I deleted the post.
The video is accurate. Twilight…the in-between will be available on December 2, 2025. You will find it at amazon.com/author/lindalflynn_words
My efforts to expand my marketing will continue, yet I anticipate they will be painless to you. Learning new technologies always comes with surprises. The goal is to energize and interest you in my next work.
I forget how vast this country is, how rapidly the topography changes as we speed down the highway I forget within this vastness lays great variety of how daily living plays out None better, simply different.
I forget how our forefathers struggled to inhabit this land and how the cruelties of climate, geography and wild elements challenged them
I forget how close to the land my own ancestors lived; myself preferring to live in the realms of books and travel
I forget the value of the farmland, as I suspect many who live in an urban environment have similar remissions of thought
I fear that collectively we have forgotten how much we need each other Those in the rural farmlands Those in the denser urban areas Those who work the land Those who study intellectual matters Those who perform manual labor Those who design and build Those who teach Yes, collectively we need each other
While traveling, I’m reminded of my life Of how blessed I am Of the family and many friends Who have enriched me and contribute to how rich my life is
News continues to bombard me I suspect others might say they forget the stories of their youth I forget the stories where people fought and sacrificed To create the freedoms I consider part of my life No one tells those stories anymore
What important truths or stories have been pushed out of your mind? Please feel free to share your thoughts.
Awaking early, I couldn’t go back to sleep. An unease hung in the air, which I couldn’t explain. The steady drip, drip, drip of tension has been raining down on us for months. Some go about their days, seemingly oblivious to the erosion of values supposedly held dear by Americans. Others witness this degradation occurring, but cannot process it nor know how to act. Public conversation rarely occurs. People are cautious about their speech and who they are open with. I suspect other homes are as abuzz as ours when the doors are closed, though I do not know what their conversations are.
I feel the need to prepare myself for the days ahead. Yet I do not know what that means, or how to prepare. I expect things to get worse. Much worse.
My hubby asked me if I was anxious. I had no solid answers for his question. Instead, I told him of my feelings. You know the feeling you get when you are on a steep roller-coaster. The whole time the car is slowly edging to the top, you feel the anticipation or dread building within your whole being. Then, many times, the car stops at the top, leaving you suspended in space hanging above the steep drop. In an instant, you are hurtling down the steep drop at record speeds. You scream. Everyone does. Then the ride levels out and gradually slows to a stop. You get out, laughing, barely able to catch your breath or your balance, and finally recognize that you’ll be okay. Right now, I identify with the stage where the car is slowly edging to the top, to pause, suspended in space before dropping. Just not sure how safe the fall will be, not sure what life will look at the bottom, or if I’ll even stand.
It seems to me that the warning signs have been presented to us for months. With each passing event, the acts become more brazen. I listen to people bemoaning how we may be losing our democracy. This morning, I awoke to news that the National Guard and the Marines are in the streets of Los Angeles. Really? Losing our democracy? It is safer to say that the ship has already sailed. It is gone. People think we can return to something. How? Nothing goes backwards.
I have no vision of what is forthcoming, or knowledge of what it will be, or how it will materialize. Yet I believe once the burning is complete, something will arise from the ashes.
I consider we are in for some hard times. Again, I’m uncertain what that means, what it looks like, or how it will affect me and my family. My goal is to continue to focus on individuals, to bring peace and love to those around me. My hubby and I will continue to encourage and support one another. Both of us feel the tension of these days and recognize how important it is to be gentle with one another, to keep seeking things we enjoy, things that bring us peace and contentment.
This won’t happen, but how I would like to awake from this nightmare and declare, “This is not real life,” then sigh and enjoy a sun-filled day.
Especially during these days, when many of us are struggling with how to respond to life and all the changes challenging our culture and the world, the truth that artists have a duty to reflect the times seems incredibly important.
Creativity comes in different forms and mediums. I encourage you to mine those gifts from within yourself. That may mean painting, dancing, music, writing, building — simply creating something.
My contribution will be a book of poetry, to be revealed later in the year.
Yikes, I’ve told you what my goal is. Now you all know, and may periodically inquire about my progress.
I wrote earlier about my creative “desert experience” and teased about sharing the flash fiction piece written from this phase. The counts are in and the “YES” votes win.
Do not be surprised, this piece may find a home in a future collection of short stories.
The Concert
Peter sauntered into the seating area of the concert arena. The patrons were milling around, greeting friends who were at the same event. Many people already seated were chatting with those near them, or enjoying pizza with wine or other drinks. Servers walked the aisles, taking drink orders. Not wanting to draw attention to himself, he nonchalantly glanced from left to right. It was still early and there were many open seats. He was sure whoever purchased his ticket for him was already there, watching him. An usher looked at his ticket and directed him to his seat. It was an excellent location, center stage, just a couple of rows back from the dining tables, three seats in from the aisle. Realizing he would have a good seat for the show, and he himself would be in a prime location for others to monitor, he unbuttoned his jacket and sat down. As directed, he had on a black suit, with a bright orange shirt. He’d left the top two buttons undone, trying to look a little more casual. Clearly, he was overdressed compared to many of the others at the concert event. As he once was told, his movements were stiff, almost robotic. Though he made efforts to appear to fit in, he could not relax. The glasses he wore, which were dark-rimmed and oversized, allowed him to observe others around him easily. He had never figured out how to loosen up when around others. This evening was no exception. His seat was next to an energetic black woman. She was already swaying to the piped in pre-concert music. Occasionally she would speak to him, and he nodded or gave her a brief reply. Couldn’t she tell he didn’t want to converse with her?
The opening act appeared on stage and the crowd went wild. It was during that excitement another couple took the two seats on his other side. The lady sat next to him, but it was obvious she was enthralled with her date.
He remained in his seat, erect and focusing on the stage. The opening act had the crowd’s attention. They weren’t something he would have paid to see. He sat there pondering how this evening came to be.
Why am I here?
Who am I supposed to meet?
How many people are watching me?
Is this a set-up?
His thoughts raced as he focused his attention on the performers. The opening act wrapped up their performance. As they vacated the stage, many rose from their seats to get something to eat, or just to stretch their legs. He stood, as did the couple seated next to him. It was obvious they didn’t intend to allow him to leave. They started talking to him.
Were they the people he was supposed to meet here? The gentlemen introduced himself as KP. The woman never provided a name. As KP talked, Peter responded mostly by nodding his head or providing short affirming responses. The woman, wearing a tight-fitting sleeveless denim vest, tight black jeans and a perky straw hat, kept staring at her partner. Her brown hair curled out from under her hat, framing her face nicely. It was easy to wonder if she knew the man at all, or if this was a new relationship. She would tip her head and adoringly stare into his face as he spoke. He too wore tight fitting black jeans and a casual denim shirt. His beard and hair sported a dignified salt and pepper look. Probably in his mid-40s, KP appeared more casual than Peter and more relaxed. But why wouldn’t he be more relaxed? He shouldn’t know the group was being observed.
The threesome talked during the switch-up between the opening act and the featured performance. KP did most of the talking. The woman just smiled and fawned on KP. Peter stoically stood and listened. As the main act was setting up on the stage, the three returned to their seats. Before sitting down, KP reached into his pocket, extracting a small envelope which he discretely slid into Peter’s hand. Peter nodded, seated himself, and stared straight ahead at the stage. He thought, oh what one will do for money! It sure makes the world go round. If they only knew. He wanted to turn around to determine if anyone had noticed the transaction, but then he didn’t know who he should look for. He knew there would be a sedan waiting out front after the performance to whisk him away.
I recently started a new project, as I felt my mindset had slipped out of some traditional thought patterns. I pulled a gratitude journal from the bookshelf as I decided I needed to get back into the habit of practicing gratitude.
Each writing offers a two-page spread, with the first page having some thoughts to ponder, some scripture reminders, and the subsequent page is for writing and a brief prayer for ending the session.
My writing will remain private, but I wanted to share the thoughts to ponder from one day. Day five, to be more precise.
Some of the truths I’ve known for years, yet somehow, allowed these truths to escape from personal practices. Sometimes we all need reminders.
Yet I was fascinated by the idea that one’s mind actually expands based upon our focus. I liked the examples they used and could see experiences from my past to support the statement.
The world we currently live in bombards us with information designed to grab our minds and cause us to be fearful or distrusting of others. Allowing such thoughts to occupy my mind creates the possibility for a stream of emotions and actions which I don’t want to be used to describe me. I can accomplish an alternative outcome with how I choose to think. When I ponder all I have to be grateful for, or the beauty surrounding me, I will become more optimistic and content. The prospect of becoming more optimistic and content is exciting; which should cause increased happiness, increased health and more fun for those I interact with.
So, I have started the “100 Days of Grace & Gratitude.”
The words below jumped off the page as I read them.
Do you get social media fatigue at the end of the year?
I wanted to scream YES. It’s the Holiday season and the thought of Christmas conjures up cheerful and pleasant feelings which radiate throughout my being. Most are personal. Those feelings don’t translate well to social media.
Are you laughing, or agreeing?
There’s this tug, which pulls me in conflicting directions.
I want to be creative
Many tasks are tied to traditions I continue to maintain
There is always something to be done
Thoughts of snuggling on the couch to enjoy the moment are tantalizing
I released a book in late October. I should market said book. There is another I should format for publication.
Somehow, all these aspects of life swirl together, creating my here and now.
The Christmas season of 2022.
To you, those who follow my blog—may you find moments to enjoy whatever makes this season special to you.
Why, as the sky turns dark, and I lay my head into my pillow, do all these great thoughts and ideas come to mind? I want to sleep but instead I ponder story starts, and various scenes to add to pieces I’m writing. My body is weary, too weary to get up and write. The thoughts are so vivid I’m sure I’ll remember them the next time I sit down to write, or for sure, in the morning.
Night Sky
Slumber finally comes. Then when the pink glow of morning lights up the sky and the sun peaks above the horizon, my eyes slowly awaken. Gratitude for the new day and all it offers, fills my heart. But alas! Some thief snuck into my room in the night while the stars twinkled and shone. I’m certain I was considering something wonderful last night, but all those thoughts vanished. Not a remnant remains, nor is there any evidence of who took the fruit of my inspiration.
Journey to the Heights 