What do you think about having words that are confusing to us as writers talked about. For example the words; which or that >>>>>
Should we have other words each month? If so, which ones would you like us to research and talk about? Email us at [email protected]
Lay vs Lie
In the battle of lay vs. lie, when do you use each and can you provide examples? —Annemarie V.
Don’t forget about “lain,” my friend! All these verbs have two things in common: They begin with the letter “L” and confuse the bejeezus out of many people. But here’s a simple breakdown that will hopefully help you decipher when to use each one and when to use their past-tense equivalents (I’ve also included a handy chart at the end to help, but we’ll get to that later).
The difference between Lay vs. Lie vs. Laid (Plus a handy chart). [Click here to Tweet and share this grammar tip with others!]
Lay and lie are both present-tense verbs, but they don’t mean quite the same thing. Lay means to put or set something down, so if the subject is acting on an object, it’s “lay.” For example, I lay down the book. You, the subject, set down the book, the object.
Joyce's Corner of Wisdom
HOW TO AVOID AND CUT COMMON DEADWOOD LANGUAGE
By Joyce Shaughnessy, Certified Copy Editor
As you assemble your work, you may notice that there are awkward phrases in it that can be cleaned up easily. Here are some common deadwood phrases and their alternatives:
Wordy: in spite of the fact that
Better: though or although
Wordy: twenty-one years old
Better: twenty one
Wordy: at all times
Wordy: in order to
Wordy: was in the nature of
Wordy: clearly and obviously
Better: “clearly” or “obviously”
Wordy: each and every one
Wordy: along the lines of
Wordy: as a matter of fact
Better: in fact
Wordy: by means of
Wordy: inside of
Wordy: all of the
Better: all the
These are just a few commonly used phrases that can be improved upon. I welcome the opportunity to work on any manuscript that comes through PNP. I can work with your budget. We can all use a second pair of eyes. If you are interested in obtaining the services of a copy editor, I may be contacted at:
I look forward to hearing from you!
Joyce's published book~
"The Healing Place is a story based in the 1930’s and 40’s which emphasizes the power of love, sacrifi ce, courage and prayer. The Miller family, Amos, Molly and their three daughters live through the trials and hardships of the Dust Bowl of The Great Depression.
Charles Ray's Column
The Kind of Review Every Writer Loves to Get~
This was my response to one of my early positive (5-star) book reviews, back in 2013.
We all want to have out work reviewed favorably by readers. This is, after all, why we write - well, we actually write to be read, but it's nice when those who read are positively impressed by what we've written. Over the years, I've received comments, both positive and negative, from readers. I don't solicit comments - somehow, that is one step I'm reluctant to take. It's far better when readers comment of their own volition, whether or not they like my books.
Sometimes, the shortest comments have the greatest impact. I think the review that has really made me feel good, was a sort of backhanded compliment, but, as it was unsolicited, I feel it really reflects the feeling of the individual who wrote it. Furthermore, in a few short words, it summed up my writing style. This, my friends, is the kind of reaction I think we, as writers, should be striving for.
This was a reader review of my latest Al Pennyback mystery, Death From Unnatural Causes.
It kept my interest and was an easy and quick read. I liked the
Not a fantastic piece of literature, but I might read this author again.
Was I wrong? You tell me.
Short words in a review is powerful when they are referring to one's book with positive responses. I appreciate even the shortest words describing what the reader thought of my book. Literature? I am more interested in how my writings made the reader feel while reading.
Here is what I think about a reader writing a poor review~ I would rather they write me privately and point out how my book could have been better and how to make it better than to give me less than a 3 star. That's what I do anyway. Because after all, it is only my own opinion of that book. I think any writer gets at least a 3 from me. Why? Because they get it because they put hours into writing it. That deserves a 3.
Perhaps this is why "being nice" is always discussed in black-and-white terms. You're either nice, or you're not. But is that really the case?
What if making a kind gesture requires you to give harsh feedback? What if saying the "polite" thing is actually a disservice to someone you care about?
When this is among friends and family, you'd call it tough love. But what's needed to get this level of honesty with your colleagues?
The way I see it, candor at work can't be built on a patchwork of pleasantries. Instead, you need Assumed Benevolence—a good faith clause that always assumes positive intent. When that's formed, you can be as honest as you need to be.
I write about all of this in my last post, "When Being Nice Isn't Being Kind" ➝
let's keep this conversation going...leave a comment and I'll post this and your comment in the next issue.
Eve Gaal's Column
Ten-Year Anniversay of Hurricane
Easter Road Trip-2006
We went as far as the car would take us. How hard could it be? Highway ten begins at the Pacific Ocean and ends in Florida, dumping us right into the Atlantic. No worries, right? The car faced east and we drove through state after state of undeveloped countryside, scrub brush, sage and barren landscapes filled with abandoned buildings, torn up houses and shuttered gas stations. By the time we reached Alabama, we realized our atlas might need some major revisions after hurricane Katrina. The idea of following a major thoroughfare through America had changed into one of the saddest road trips of our lives and though we weren’t completely oblivious during the planning stages of our vacation, seven months had gone by and somehow we thought things would have magically returned to normal.
This is where reality slowly hurled its ugly, demonic head, shaking a fist at us. “You want a vacation, huh?” It chortled in the recesses of my mind. Gutter-sounding laughter seemingly mocked our modest donations, yelling, “Look at these people,” it seemed to say. “You need to do more. Say more. Give more. Don’t just drive to Florida and have fun. Act. Commit yourself. Stop.” We were way down south, where sweetened tea and Mint Juleps cooled folks on fictionalized porches near orchards full of delectable peaches. No, in this world, the peaches would not be growing this year and no one had time or money to entertain on a porch that wasn’t even there. When the levees burst, the banjo players fled for higher, safer ground. There were detours upon detours and misplaced bayou fishing boats tangled in kudzu near the road. The highway signs clearly depicting gas-food-lodging, offered hope but instead delivered horrid, almost upside down remnants of a previous civilization. There was no place to stop. And facilities? “Hold your pee, you bourgeois tourist,” the creepy voice repeated. “You want gas? Bwa-ha-ha-ha!”
Honestly, I didn’t see any porches. Between Georgia and Louisiana, we rarely even saw livestock. In New Orleans, we saw abandoned homes and people living in refuse. We walked across Jackson Square to Cafe du Monde for beignets and a young woman sat outside crying, in fact, vehemently sobbing for her town. I couldn’t take it anymore. Gut-wrenching guilt ate away at our holiday dreams. “Tomorrow’s Easter Sunday,” I said to my husband. “Can we go to Mass and at least pray with these people?”
The next day, I knelt with the local congregation and prayed as hard as I know how to pray about the Easter message of rebirth. It was a beautiful day and sunshine broke through rain clouds above St. Louis Cathedral where bells resonated and still remain in my heart. We continued our journey through the Florida Panhandle, finally making it to the other shore. Detours miraculously took us to meet a childhood friend near Orlando, where amusement park flower displays were picture perfect, in blatant contrast to real time events. When we left for home, we returned by driving back using the same route and though my conscience ached, the demon had left.
It’s now ten years since that trip and other storms have edged into the area making progress slow but things are getting better. One anniversary news update said New Orleans has razed over 10,000 blighted properties to make way for new construction. In 2006, I saw pain with my very own eyes. I saw the South’s ground zero. Littered areas around the amazing Superdome that once offered shelter to thousands-- toppled Gulf casinos-- broken bridges and messed up freeway exits. Some of those that fled during the storm are returning home. The music will come back and so will sweetened tea and peach pie.
As the sun blazed over us on our way through Texas, I felt warmth reassuring me that my prayers may have helped. Maybe the sight of cows reminded me life will prevail and there’s always hope. More importantly, that vacation to Florida and that highway, changed me, humbled me, creating someone different. Just like that landscape, I’d never be the same again.
St. Luis Cathedral
Beauty is something we all have. It can be a smile. It can be impressive eyes, It can be the way one laughs, or greets a stranger, or the way we dress, or the way we hold ourselves
Vee Bee's Say~
Did you ever wonder why you have certain talents? Do you think it is the way we come into the world or the way we are raised?
Let's talk about this...send your thoughts about these questions to pattimari at~
Pattimari thinks we come into the world as we are, however, our parents and those around us add to who we are as well.
Email Pattimari your ideas about Vee Bee's questions and they will go in the next issue.
The other day, a client of mine told me that her husband never touches her much and she would like to be touched more by him. I told her to pat him on the rear or back, or just a touch as he passes by her while going from one room to the next, or wherever, and see what happens. The next visit, she told me that it took several pats as he passed her in the hallway, bedroom or coming in from outside or into the kitchen, but after those several, he began patting her back when he passed her. She smiled and thanked me and said, "What a simple way of letting your husband know you liked to be touched."
Alien Sex! Alien Sex! Alien Sex!
If you’re like me, you’ve been wondering how you can spice up your alien sex scenes, perhaps invent a new perversion that you won’t find in The Joy of Sex. You’re tired of the same 301 ultra-kinky positions, even when they involve Lance Stud and his extraterrestrial sweetheart, Ms. Good-tentacle. In this essay, I will try to suggest some far-out, bizarre, mind-stretching and perhaps even illuminating and liberating possibilities, primarily by focusing on one scene from a recent novel I wrote.
But first, what do we mean by alien sex? There are several possibilities or categories, and the short list below is not meant to be exhaustive.
Human sex, usually boy-girl/man-woman, but it can also be gay, bisexual, transexual, gay transexual, etc. How is this “alien,” you ask? As Ellen Datlow observes in her introduction to Alien Sex, “male and female humans so often see each other as ‘alien’ – in the sense of ‘belonging to another country or people; foreign; strange; an outsider.’” What’s the title of that book about gender differences and relationships? Men Are from Mars, Women Are from Venus. Potentially, though, any erotic human relationship can be alien because it involves reaching out to someone vastly different from you. Put another way, I’ve sometimes felt that the strangest, most alien creatures imaginable are fellow homo sapiens I’ve met.
- Humans with aliens, as in, “My boyfriend’s from Orgasmo IV, and did I mention that he’s not only an hermaphrodite but the ninth member of a group entity with a hive mind?” This category is probably what most of us mean when we think of alien sex. The aliens can run the gamut from being just like us to waaaayyyy different. For one of the former kind, check out the movie Cocoon where the alien female looks just like a beautiful girl, but boy, what a celestial climax! As for being different, in Octavia E. Butler’s Hugo and Nebula Award-winning novelette, “Bloodchild,” an alien female impregnates a human boy by inserting her eggs directly into his stomach via a needle-sharp ovipositor, thereby not only knocking him up, but turning off some male readers who canceled their subscriptions to Asimov’s. Do NOT try this in your bedroom!
- Humans with animals. Now, before you shout “Ewe!”, please be advised that some of these works are classics and possess enduring popularity. C’mon, what do you think Beauty and the Beast is really about? Some stories, e.g., Leigh Kennedy’s “Her Furry Face,” involve sex with an educated or cerebrally-enhanced animal. Others are mythic, such as the one about Pasiphae, who got it on with a white bull and gave birth to the Minotaur.
- Gods with humans. For a starter, check out a few Greek myths. Zeus, that cheating husband and heavenly womanizer, always seems to get the hots for a particularly fetching, down-to-earth beauty, and in the fertility department, I can guarantee that he never shot any blanks. And, to combine #3 with part of #4, in one legend he even assumes the guise of a swan and rapes Leda. Elsewhere, in Hesiod, Gaia or Earth, who is the mother of Heaven, mates with her son to produce the race of Titans, which must make for an interesting family tree.
- Humans with non-human humans. You know, with vampires or the undead, lecherous zombies or werewolves, Ted Cruz and the extreme Religious Right. You get the idea.
Hmm, I see I’ve left out Aliens with Aliens; Humans with Pixies, Elves, Angels, Devils, Incubuses, and erotic dreams with imaginary lovers of all types. Well, as I said before, this isn’t a complete list. Also, I’d like to stress that while the alien encounter can be bizarre and, uh, mind-blowing, it must at least in some small way be compatible with a human frame of reference and be partly understandable. If you write, “The Alien Queen rippled her zzzekeka in the fourth dimension as Lord Skyhopper caressed the ninth incarnation of her tripartite mind and they both entered each other’s shimmering manisfestations in null-space” – well, you may have a little trouble connecting with readers, although I can think of a few members of my particular writers community who would probably get turned on anyway.
Okay, lets look briefly at my novel, Alien Dreams, published by Crossroad Press (http://amzn.to/23kGQIb). In order to save his crew from vicious alien “angels,”
Captain Eric Latimore must leave the woman he loves and become a male of the aliens’ beautiful, telepathic species. Then he must mate with their queen, a process that lasts ten thousand subjective years. (No premature ejaculation here!) After his transformation into a great, feather-clad creature, Latimore (now Ragar) sees Aleia descend from the sky with his now super-acute vision. “Her lustrous white wings” opened “to enfold him, and in the sun, her teeth were the deep bright red of fresh shed blood.”
They both soar above the clouds and enter an alien stasis field that contains a spacious and opulent bedroom. There they couple, drenched in her fragrant musk. But though Aleia is more lovely and irresistible than any human, I wanted to complicate matters for Latimore, make her truly alien, strange, and frightening. So I reveal that her gorgeous, sublime image is only a mental projection, “a carefully constructed illusion designed to beguile and seduce” her mate. What is Latimore really embracing – an angel or a hideous, alien spider that will suck him dry?
In order to portray an act of alien sex, I also wanted to break down as many boundaries as possible and then erase them. Some of these boundaries are personal and psychological and involve Latimore’s sense of his own identity and what it means to be human. Other blurred boundaries are sexual, particularly when he and his bedmate swap bodies and each other’s supremely intense sensations. Copulating for centuries, Latimore realizes that “The nerve endings of angels were connected to the heat source of the universe, and he burned forever in its flames.” Despite his ecstasy, part of him is repelled by the act, for he fears that more and more, he is becoming an alien that views humans as cockroaches:
Horror and self-disgust grazed his mind. No, he must not think that way! He was still human, and his allegiance lay with them. But then Aleia introduced him to a new ‘permutation’ of angel lovemaking, showing him how they could float and braid in the air with the merest stirring of their wings, and flow over and around and even through each other. He plunged deep into her every orifice, and with wise touches of her supple fingers, she awakened him to transcendent sensations he could never have imagined. Then he was in her mind, gazing out at himself and feeling his own turgid flesh penetrate his body. Only it was HER body now, ALEIA’S body he occupied, and he experienced firsthand her divine pleasure, pleasure that HE was giving her. Or was it Aleia who brought him repeatedly to such ecstasy, to titanic delights that would kill even the most resilient of humans?
Finally, after millennia, they part. Aleia tells him their union has been successful because the holy child she seeks has been conceived. They need never touch each other again, for in their minds, every moment of their almost eternal lovemaking will be as fresh as ever. As Aleia tells Latimore telepathically, “You are here always, Ragar. Every moment, every thrilling touch, is as vivid as ever and will never fade.” Like the lovers in Fredrick Pohl’s “Day Million,” these sweethearts will be plugged into each other forever.
Looking over this particular scene, I notice that it isn’t very erotic, but that wasn’t my main purpose. What I was trying to do was explore speculative possibilities and present a compelling alien encounter that was far different from humans’ and yet recognizable. One major suggestion: in creating such scenes, don’t forget to explore the psychology of the participants and to make the reader care. In this case, I hope folks identify with my (once) human protagonist and sympathize with his fears and feelings.
This is the first essay I’ve written where I’ve asked myself, “Why the heck are you doing this?” I think that part of it is that sexuality is one of the most basic features of what it means to be human and a writer. We may look ridiculous while doing it, but really, would our lives even be worth living without physical passion and erotic love? Sex is the stuff of song, the rhythm of romance. It pounds and reverberates through our lives like a great drum solo. I know there are some who feel that the “old in and out” gets boring and there are no new ways to present it, but I’m not one of them. To me, sex is inexhaustible and endlessly fascinating and the permutations have yet to be fully plumbed. That’s basically why I’ve stripped my prurient psyche bare here, folks, to get your juices pouring and suggest a few more creative approaches. Oh yes, there’s another reason too. Have you noticed that sex is funny? I’m not just talking dirty jokes here, but joyful ones as well. Humans do like to laugh, and what could be better to laugh at than the source of life itself?
Or maybe this is all hooey. My wife told me I’m a dirty old man and just want to shack up with an alien. When she said that, I foolishly responded, “Well, what do you think I’ve been sleeping with for the past forty-eight years?” Not a good idea at all.
The garage does get cold this time of year.
TELL YOUR STORY
If anybody would have told me that in 2016 I would be telling the world my life’s story, I would not have believed them. Six months ago, “Soldier With A Backpack Living And Dying Simultaneously” was written, edited and published with the greatest of ease. The strangest thing about it, I had no ideal I was going to write a book. The last time I wrote a book was eight years ago.
Even today, I can honestly say I am in awe with this experience. Writing that book changed my life forever. I am not the same person I was when I wrote that book. It was as though God had a message He wanted to share with the world and I was the vessel by which it would come to past. It all began the day the reality my oldest son who had completed two terms in Iraq had a serious Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder episode. He had told me several times he had PTSD, I took it to mean he could not be overly stressed out; but one day I learned it was far more than that.
Sitting at my desk, my cell phone rang. The number showing in my caller ID was not familiar to me but I was prompted to answer the call. The City of Akron’s Police Department was calling me to inform me my son was being searched for by them due to a call that came in from the Veterans’ Help Line. They were concerned he was going to commit suicide. They knew he had registered guns so he had to be found ASAP. For three hours I did not know if my son was dead or alive. Finally, I found him. He had gone to get himself some help. He could not call me because they took his personals from him which included his phone.
That moment right there sent me researching PTSD. As I began gathering information, a spirit took over the project and eventually created a book that talks to souls. “Soldier With A Backpack Living And Dying Simultaneously” proved to be a tool assisting victims of every walk of life to have a better presence. The fascination about the journey is the fact I am the author but I am also the patient who is constantly healing mentally, emotionally and spiritually. Overall my health has improved.
Along the way, I came across a quote by Iyanla Vanzant: “When you stand and share your story in an empowering way, your story will heal you and your story will heal somebody else.” This is so true. Doors have opened for me to stand and tell my story around the world. I am in awe. I never imagined my life to be so exhilarating after living so long making myself available for others to be tended to while I accepted my life has literally passed me by. Today, I can honestly say, I was wrong. My life is new and filled with great joy because I have been given the opportunity to be restored from a past of victimization, a past that is being released by my telling my story in a very empowering way.
Tell your story, it is not just for others, it is for you also. I’ve learned a new word I want you to ponder if you are hesitant about sharing your story.
A : purification or purgation of the emotions (as pity and fear) primarily through art
B : a purification or purgation that brings about spiritual renewal or release from tension.
Linda, thank you for sharing this story with us. Being a therapist, I have worked with PTSD clients who suffered flashbacks on a weekly basis, and simply wanted to end them by ending their life. Many of my clients were men coming home from the service, but there is one I remember that touched me tremendously because he suffered flashbacks everyday and had to quit his job. He was a train engineer, and as most know, you can not stop a train in a timely manner if someone happens on the tracks.. There was a young teenage girl who was trying to end her life and stood on the tracks in front of him and he was helpless to stop the train in time. She was threw in the windshield of his train and he saw her being splashed right before his eyes. He came to me stating he couldn't sleep because when he did, he saw her, his flashbacks were daily and he wanted to die. We worked with him for over a year, and today he is doing much better. He had to quit his job and never worked again. He went on disability, and today, he only has flashbacks one or twice a year compared to daily.
AS LINDA ASKED; IF YOU HAVE A STORY, WRITE IT, AND I WILL POST IT IN NEXT MONTH'S ISSUE.
Are you ready for the next "What If" saga into the imponderables? Then let us venture to the site of The Stone of the Pregnant Woman - Hadjar el Hibla, or Stone of the South. It is a Roman monolith, among the largest ever quarried. It was intended for the nearby Roman Temple as a possible addition to the Trilithon (a structure consisting of 2 large vertical stones supporting a 3rd stone horizontally across the top). The stones are still in the original ancient quarry. Of the stones, one weighing in at just over 1,000 tons. The 2nd stone is estimated at 1,242 tons, while the 3rd, just discovered in 2014, thought to weigh in at 1,650 tons, making it the largest stone ever carved by human hands, or so the saying goes. Why were they carved? Some say they reflect the belief that a woman who touches the one stone experiences an increase in fertility. A second story weaves a pattern that a pregnant woman tricked the people of Baalbek into believing that with some special power, she could move the stone, but first, they would have to feed her until she delivered her child, A third story relates that pregnant jinn (genies, supernatural creat ures of Arabian mythology and theology) were assigned the task of cutting and moving the stone. Could the jinn have been the "what if" space settlers who found this a rather simple chore, considering that they had long ago figured out how to altar the laws of gravity and levitation? It was estimated by experts that it would take about 18,000 men just to budge the stone. An interesting ponderable. Pictures of the stones at www.pinterest.com.
I am more interested in listening to you, than talking.
I'm happy when I see a smile on your face and it brings one to my own face~
When walking down the pavement, and someone smiles at me as we pass, it makes me feel good.
Do you show appreciation from what others do for you?
Kindness is special and should be acknowledged.
PnPAuthors Promotional Magazine helpful things~
Which or That?
While both which and that can be used in other constructions, the confusion usually arises when they are being used as relative pronouns to introduce adjective (or relative) clauses. In the examples below, we have bracketed the adjective clauses. (Remember that a clause is simply a group of words containing a subject and a verb):
1. Our house [that has a red door and green shutters] needs painting.
2. Our house, [which has a red door and green shutters], needs painting.
3. The classrooms [that were painted over the summer] are bright and cheerful.
4. The classrooms, [which were painted over the summer], are bright and cheerful.
In all four cases, the adjective clause tells us something about either the house or the classrooms, but the choice of which or that changes the way we should read each sentence.
In the first sentence, the use of that suggests that we own more than one house and therefore must explain to you that we are talking about a particular house of ours--the one with a red door and green shutters. We cannot leave out that adjective clause because it is essential to your understanding of the sentence; that is, you wouldn't know which one of our houses needs the paint job without that adjective clause.
The second sentence tells you that we own only one house and we are simply telling you--in case you want to know--that it happens to have a red door and green shutters. We could leave out the information in that adjective clause and the sentence would still make sense.
The third sentence, because it uses that to launch its adjective clause, tells us that only SOME of the classrooms were painted over the summer. If we omitted the clause "that were painted over the summer," we would be left with "The classrooms are bright and cheerful," a statement that would not be accurate since it would imply that ALL the classrooms are bright and cheerful. In this sentence, therefore, the adjective clause is essential to the meaning of the sentence.
We call the adjective clauses in sentences one and three restrictive because they restrict--or limit--the meaning of the nouns they modify. In the case of sentence three, they tell us that we are talking ONLY about the classrooms that were painted over the summer--not the others.
The which clause in the fourth sentence is what we call a nonessential--or nonrestrictive--clause. Since that sentence intends to tell us that ALL the classrooms were painted, the information in the adjective clause is not essential. The sentence would be clear even if the clause were omitted.
The rule of thumb, then, is that which clauses are nonrestrictive (nonessential) while that clauses are restrictive (essential). Nonrestrictive clauses and phrases are set off from the rest of a sentence by a pair of commas (as in our examples above) or by a single comma if they come at the end of the sentence. (Example: "I took a vacation day on my birthday, which happened to fall on a Monday this year.")
Merriam-Webster's Collegiate Dictionary (10th edition), regarded by most writers as the authority on such matters, tells us that it is now common for which to be used with either kind of clause, while that must be used only for restrictive clauses. In fact, though, careful writers continue to make the distinction we describe above. Attorneys are taught to use which for nonrestrictive clauses and that for restrictive clauses so as not to cause a misreading in legal documents. It seems just as important that we work to avoid misreadings in all writing, not only in situations when a legal ruling might be at stake.
Which pronoun--which or that--belongs in each blank below?
1. Carlos gave Maria a study guide for material ________ was going to be on the test.
2. Carlos gave Maria notes from chapters 3 through 7 _________ were going to be on the test.
3. Mark and Sarah took their children on every vacation _________ they took to the coast.
4. The teachers gave awards to all paintings ________ showed originality.
1.Carlos gave Maria a study guide for material *that* was going to be on the test. [To say simply "Carlos gave Maria a study guide for material" would not be complete information. We need the adjective clause to tell us which material, in particular. Since the information is, therefore, essential, we use that and no comma.]
2.Carlos gave Maria notes from chapters 3 through 7, *which* were going to be on the test. [The fact that chapters 3 through 7 were going to be on the test is not essential to our understanding exactly which notes Carlos gave Maria, so we use a comma and which.]
3.Mark and Sarah took their children on every vacation *that* they took to the coast. [If we said simply "Mark and Sarah took their children on every vacation," we would be inaccurate. The information in the adjective clause is essential to our understanding that the children went on certain vacations and not others. Therefore, we use that and no comma.]
4.The teachers gave awards to all paintings that showed originality. [To say simply "The teachers gave awards to all paintings" would be inaccurate. The information in the adjective clause is, therefore, essential to the meaning of the sentence, so we use that and no comma.]
Dr. Willie White
Speak To Please God
1 Thessalonians 2:3-4
For our exhortation was not of deceit, nor of uncleanness, nor in guile; But as we were allowed of God to be put in trust with the gospel, even so we speak; not as pleasing men, but God, which trieth our hearts.
The apostle Paul is speaking to the Christians as Thessalonica encouraging them to speak the truth which pleases God. Paul used himself as an example of how he spoke when he preached the gospel. Paul realized that God has entrusted him with the gospel and it was his duty to speak the truth. Speaking the truth was to please God and not men.
It is noteworthy to say that when proclaiming the gospel, God knows the heart whereas man sees the outward and hears what is spoken. It behooves the hearer to know the truth of God's Word. This is accomplished by studying God's Word for oneself.
Speaking the truth gives rises to the speaker's trustworthiness and the person gains a reputation of being truthful. Being truthful and trust worthy emulates God as He is truth and love. Whatever God says or promises can be trusted.
These questions come to mind, when speaking who are you seeking to please, man or God? Pleasing man is short lived while pleasing God is everlasting. Speaking to please man oftentimes man will want to truth circumvented, what must the speaker do?
Speak the truth which pleases God.
Vinita Singh's Column
Oh! She wasn’t the fair one, her skin tan, but her grandma would always say “you have such beautiful features, you’re pretty”. Yet she was judged much in her early twenties, while proposals came to her. The brother came to see her, the oldest brother; she was only twenty her hair clipped long and curly wearing a long skirt green with golden dots. A dark pink blouse added green dots on it. She walked around serving sweet snacks for her guests. Then she ran upstairs in her room with her favorite book by Mauve Binchy. A circle of friends. She was told that the brother was the oldest and thought of a proposal for her, in alliance with his youngest brother, she had the middle brother come and see her. She is all right looking and a homely nice girl for our youngest brother said the middle brother to her mom. Later her picture was sent. She was extremely photogenic. The youngest brother replied after a month, if the girl is homely and nice, that’s what I need, I don’t need an actress. Later the proposal was cancelled from the guy. The girl was in tears. Then a few years had passed when the girl was judged in looks again. The young lady was talking to a boy, he was going to come and meet her. Her picture on the internet was so nice, he imagined her more beautiful than anything. He was sent a picture not so nice of the girl from a friend. The young man told her the day before I don’t want to come, you don’t look that pretty. The girl was in tears again. Her confidence and ego both hurt. The guy came to see her, he thought, she was all-right looking in person and he proposed to her. Years passed, when the girl was going to have gall stone surgery. She went to get her mail from the mailbox, when she saw the mail lady. She had no makeup, a blue striped with white shirt and a black knee skirt. The mail lady told her, “you look stunning”, the lady said, I haven’t heard that. The mail lady told her “you’re stunning looking but you don’t have confidence”. I’m telling you some ladies are not so beautiful but they have so much confidence. Confidence is a very attractive thing. You need to have confidence. Later after a year had passed she was, working at See’s candy, She was in her mid- thirties, she noticed people coming up and talking to her, Then there was a manager, he saw her and said you pick the candy, then he left money and went away. As he came back she gave him the money. She was then pregnant with her second child. She felt tired and she would take lemonade, as she felt her pregnancy emotions and tiredness. The manager told her you’re beautiful and you walk with your daughter every day. Suddenly her emotions became sad, she was five months and leaving her friends and moving. She didn’t want to move. She told her friend. I don’t want to go I have my friends and I’m going to miss them. Her friend said,” What if you stay and they all move”. Through her pregnancy she had pelvic pain and the gestational. She was in a new place, One day there was a cab driver she had called from her check place. He never came she lost half an hour. The cab driver told her you are angry. She said, I’m not angry, I just upset that no cab came. She wrote a poem and gave it to her dietician who made her laugh. Then finally she had her son in October. She nursed her son, and being shy she usually stayed in her room, too shy to nurse him outside. She made sure she had help from the maid; all she focused on was her baby. Her emotions took a new toll. Life changed for her, she had a daughter in kindergarten and a small son. She felt tired. She didn’t get enough sleep, she read to her daughter with her son in her lap. Three months passed, she went to the gym and talked about her dancing. She worked hard to get her workshop. Then she met a nanny who watched her baby. Every day the nanny would tell her something nice, you look nice in that dress. She would tell her to rest. She would pamper her, by coloring her hair. Most of all she would watch her dance and tell her you’re a good dancer. This all brought happy emotions to the girl she felt happy from inside. Now she was in her forty’s life took a toll on her, she felt she wanted to be in her twenty’s again. One day she spoke to her friend and told him but your wife is beautiful. “You have a beautiful heart “, he told her. Later an uncle had been speaking to her, he said, “You have a nice heart. The girl had gotten too much into looking pretty and getting makeovers done, writing at the counter for the manager called Shades of me, Getting make-up done, wearing pretty dresses. She had realized she is not a model or a salesperson; she is just a mom of two children. She was lost in her dream world. Now it was present day. She learned she was premenopausal. She had been to the doctor for many visits. Suddenly one day she learned she had Adenomyosis, She would have to have surgery. She wouldn’t be able to have more babies after this. She tried to keep her emotions upbeat by getting a haircut, She was kind of sad inside hiding her feelings. As she got her new haircut, everyone told her you look pretty. She was at a lunch with other ladies. She was told she looked pretty there. As she went to her daughters school people told her you look pretty “I like your haircut” The girl just didn’t feel it. One day she was feeling pelvic pain, she had a muscle pull. She wasn’t going out. All of a sudden she let her emotions out in her room by crying. She realized that this is what we are humans that go through a process as females with our bodies. She realized then it was not her outside looks, or her haircut, it was her confidence level, her emotions, how she would pull herself together. She realized she was getting older and she had to accept it. She told her friend, I have been judged in my looks, people would tell me you’re not pretty, it would bother me. Now people would tell me you’re pretty, I felt happy. “It’s not the outside looks she told her friend. It’s how we feel in the inside. By exercise and taking care of our health we can feel good on the inside, have good confidence and have our emotions neutral. The main thing is not to let our outside looks affect us by what others say to us. It’s the confidence we have of ourselves in the inside, and how we feel about our emotion’s that defines our beauty.
Shades of me
She gazed at herself in the mirror, her dark curly black long hair, small black eyes, and a black beauty mark on her left cheek, with a prominent nose, having a tan skin. She wore shades that reflected her in her mirror image. She got enthusiastic as she put on her Dior lipstick of mysteries mauve color. She added her eyeliner of plumy. As she walked around she liked colors like raspberry glace from Clinique, Rouge Dior Rouge ARA red, Dior Addict extreme Sunset Blvd., eyeliner of velvet rose, and powder of stay spice or the berry light blush from Estee Lauder. As she shopped she usually liked colors like purple light blue, yellow and red. Sometimes she would wear a Jones New York, Blue Polk a dot, half sleeve with a white Capri. Or she had a yellow mustard top with black leggings. Dresses with a curvy look with flowers, of pink and white long to the ankle and sleeveless or a long shirt with thin leggings, and her favorite a purple sweater, with a purple skirt, designed with flowers, gave her that look of the true essence of who she really was.
As she walked around Dillard’s, she’d spend time experimenting with a purple lipstick or a bright red even a coral color. She usually liked perfumes with a light smell. She noticed perfumes around. She loved the j’adore or Ella a vie a belle, with a light smell or even the Clinique happy gave her an essence of calmness which uplift her spirit. Some days she wanted to go simple with a long sleeve dress of blue and white color and a lighter shade of lipstick. Then there were days when she wanted to wear a red curvy sweater with leggings, which brought out her tan skin. She also wore earrings of golden loops, or small red simple ones matching her shirt or dress. She tried coats of blue, purple and white or shoes that were pink, long pointed with slender heels. As she walked around, she liked dresses that matched her dress with her red lipstick of Shiseido.
Copyright @ Vinita Singh
What are wedding vows?
Nothing but a wife’s lonely nights
And lonely days.
Dreaming of someone
Others laughing and mocking
And giving her advice instead
Of understanding how much she
Has really done, or given for
What are wedding vows, just two?
Names on paper, with a big house
And a big car and bank accounts
Where’s the wife’s spirit, just with
The children, wishing once if she could
Go out and do something she loved.
What are wedding vows nothing but
A trap where her emotions were locked
And she cried in nights or days
Longing for a spirit to fulfill her loneliness.
What are wedding vows just words?
With the priest and pundits, which swore?
In sickness and in health yet
Really never there when needed.
Nov 9, 2012
There is a soul within that tells me who I am
Feelings of the soft shuttle fresh air beneath me
Feeling coming across of tears like the rivers
Feeling of laughter in extreme all together
Both intertwined to come up with love
There is a soul within that tells me who I am
With feeling of finding love within me
The feeling of the passion of that is within me
Dancing away as yet another day comes
And waiting to give that love to others
Feelings intertwined with laughter and tears
Waiting to write away in complete what love really is
And how feelings are hidden with tear droplets like the
Rain and laughter as high as a low pitch note on a piano.
Feeling intertwined, ready to show that stage free nature
of confidence in extreme and yet shyness hidden behind.
Feelings of the soft scuttle fresh air beneath me
Freeing to fly and touch the heavens in light
With tears and laughter intertwined
Sept. 15 2012 Vinita Singh @copyright Sept. 3, 2012
Here are my thoughts regarding writing novels~
The first paragraph of your book should draw your reader in immediately with action, or some clever question or thought. If you can do that, then your reader will continue reading, and will not put your book back on the shelf. A lot of times when we are writing action/mystery novels, we start off slow, but I've learned to start off with some really good action in that first paragraph.
Lydia Graham heard crunching and knew he was right behind her, running and stepping on dry branches, and coming closer. Out of breath and exhausted, she knew she had to keep running and hide somewhere, but where?
They were deep in the forest of Sonoma, California, and up ahead were small cabins, but that wasn’t good enough because she knew she’d be trapped if he followed her. Her mind was racing while she scurried across broken twigs, and all the while trying to find a good place to hide. Turning her head around to see if he was coming closer, she tripped over something hard and fell down an embankment. While she rolled downward, her mouth tasted foul rotten dirt and quickly wondered if something had died there in the soil. The sound of water rippled through her ears, and her heart began racing faster and faster until she thought her heart was going to burst. As she neared the bottom, she twisted and turned her body to miss rocks, but instead landed hard on top of a small tree looming out of the ground, and immediately rolled off into the sand. She saw blurred images of clear water running freely. Scooting her body along the sand, trying to get closer to the water, she felt a strange sensation running through her body, striking at her mind and its clearness. Images grew dimmer until she dropped her head on the sand and fought nausea by closing her eyes. After a few minutes she opened them, fearing she must have seriously hurt herself.
Blood in the sand alarmed her as she looked down at her leg and saw blood oozing down to her ankle. Her face felt wet and sticky and when she wiped it with her arm, she noticed it was dripping blood. Feeling light as if she was fading, she feared she was losing consciousness. No…I can’t faint…he’s right behind me somewhere, anywhere…. He could be looking down at me - right now. Oh God, please, don’t let him find me…I feel woozy…I…I’m going to…Lydia went unconscious.
“Lady…Lady…are you all right? Wake up, lady.” shrieked the forest ranger. He reached into his backpack, pulled out his cell phone and called for help.
“Send a stretcher down Lucas path…hurry…a girl has fallen down an embankment and is unconscious.”
The ranger reached back into his backpack, pulled out gauze and quickly wrapped her leg, then waited for help to arrive.
This week Sal wrote two wonderful poems~
Sal, your poems touched me in the deepest part of my soul.
Do you know what’s significant about May 12th?
Hello and welcome. May 12th is International Awareness Day for Chronic Immunological and Neurological Diseases (CIND). You wouldn’t be alone in thinking, but what does that title actually mean? CIND encompasses a number of conditions, some of which you might know. These include, but are not limited to, fibromyalgia (FM), myalgic encephalitis/chronic fatigue syndrome (ME/CFS), multiple chemical sensitivity (MCS) or conflict related conditions for example the Gulf War Syndrome.
So why is an Awareness Day needed? At times it’s hard to believe that such an unusual set of symptoms could really exist! There can also be a belief the ‘aches and pains, the tiredness’ are not the big deal that they’re being made out to be. Doesn’t everyone feel sore or tired at some stage? Whether or not a person believes, whether there is or isn’t a legal requirement to acknowledge a sufferer’s situation, effects of the sometimes extraordinary set of symptoms are real. Fatigue is misunderstood. It’s more than just being tired. It can be as though the floor has opened and all your energy has just poured away, beyond tiredness. It is an emptiness of strength throughout your entire being. And generally there’s no sufficient cause of explanation as to why. Wording is elusive in describing pain, what it is or where it is as well as its intensity. Often there’s an inadequacy between words, their meaning and their intention in describing what all of this really means to an individual with a CIND.
The date for the Awareness Day, chosen in 1992, is Florence Nightingale’s birthday. Nightingale suffered for 50 years with a CFS-like illness, and what’s generally not known is that she was often confined to bed in between looking after the sick and founding the first School of Nursing(1). Does that mean she mustn’t have been too unwell? No, when you are that ill there are times when, in detriment to your own comfort you push on. In Nurse Nightingale’s situation that was helping her patients. The bigger picture is that you really focus not on self but helping or educating the community. You crash. Excruciating pain, fatigue and other symptoms rack your body and mind, but not your spirit. It takes great fortitude to stop in time. These days a technique called pacing is advocated so that crashing might be avoided. Briefly, stopping and resting before symptoms start, thus hopefully evading a battle with an intense and/or prolonged exacerbation of those symptoms. You can read more about pacing in my Nov 2015 column http://octpnpmagazine.webs.com/columnist-page.
Any person afflicted with a Chronic Immunological and Neurological Disease, or condition if the illness hasn’t been given disease status, doesn’t have to have the fortitude of Florence Nightingale. Symptoms can’t be switched off or ignored completely just because they arise at an inconvenient time. Often conditions are difficult to diagnose. It’s okay if you, whether family, friend, carer or even health professional, can’t understand what a particular condition is and how it impacts on a person. Just know that it does. It can take a lot of courage for a person with CIND to do normal everyday activities. 12th May is about having a day dedicated to Awareness. This awareness means being prepared to learn and respect the needs of those afflicted with the many and varied types of CIND.
So, until next month I look forward to hearing from you with questions or comments about this and anything else you’d like to share with me, to share with all of you. In the meantime, revel in your creativity – whatever form it may take and try to be well and keep well.
Comment from Pattimari - to Suzanne
Suzanne, I had to respond immediately to your article this month without waiting for June's issue.
First of all, I'd like to thank you for being so gracious about informing all of our PnPAuthors about these illnesses. No one knows about this because it is kept quiet, but your article each months informs us of yet another thing we ALL should know.
I did not know that Florence Nightingale suffered for 50 years with a CFS-like illness, and that she was often confined to bed in between looking after the sick. OMG what a woman! I always thought of her as a wonderful woman, but now with this illness, she is at the highest level in my mind. BUT...OMG, look at you - each month you come to the computer and write for us, informing us of illnesses we aren't aware of when you are so afflicted with illnesses too. You are my hero Suzanne.
I had a sister in law who they didn't know what was wrong with her. They called it fatigue S. but never helped her with it. There were times when she was so tired she couldn't lift the phone to call my brother for help when it came upon her. She cried out for years to no avail. I also have a daughter in law who suffered an illness they couldn't
John's Poetry and Art~
God rest your
God calm your heart
sometimes we forget and sometimes we just don't care
we fade in and out like a streetlight
don't become part of this machine!
this machine has no soul, no heart
it only wants control
It just wants to distract you from the things you love
it lives off your sadness and breathes in your spirit
it suffocates your imagination and replaces it with arrogance
It wants you to forget
To forget where you came from
To forget how you got where you are now.
This machine will never suffer it knows no pain
What is a loss to a machine than just been a step away from been fixed again.
They want you to love the machine
They want you to become the machine
And just do what you're told.
By John M. Pride Jr
Makeup and Jewelry in India
By Vinita Singh
India is a place where women dress a lot on their wedding day and even after. Many women wear roses on their hair in South India. They even wear Kajal, which is eyeliner on their eyes.
A bindi on the forehead A tikka it is a jewlry that starts with a hook chain and pendant on the bottom. It signifies the male and female elements united as a union in every way including the physical union. A sindoor, parted in the middle of the forehead or a Mangalsutra worn as a necklace. The ladies even wear colored Bangles on the hand, A nose ring, And a toe ring. A wedding ring is worn on the finger. India doesn’t have just the ring to signify that a women is married. She wears the most significant necklace called a mangalsutra. Mangal means auspicious and sutra means thread. It is what a groom ties around the bride on the wedding day during a ceremony. A symbol of wedlock. The mangalsutra has blackbeads, to protect the couple from the evil eye. Its symbol is love, trust and marital happiness. A necklace is worn to bring emotions, or strengthen love.
Lakme is one of the makeup brands used in India.
Henna is applied on the brides hands and feet with designs called mehndi before their wedding day. They also wear mehndi on special occasions, such as Karwa chauth; when women fast for their husband to have a long life.
A bindi or a red dot is worn between the eyebrows. Married women apply a red paste to their scalp. Married women put it on where their hair is parted on the middle. This sindoor is union symbolizing love and honor for their husband. The third eye or what is called the chakra is the center of a person’s spiritual power. The bindi, a makeup fashion worn between the eyebrows and the sindoor in the middle part would signify a person’s spiritual bond for their husband. A sindoor would be worn for their beauty.
Wearing flowers in the hair for most women in South India signifies happiness.
Flowers such as a rose signify passion and love.
When a women wars Jasmine in her hair it means prosperity and good luck, therefore many women wear jasmine on their hair.
Hibiscus worn on her hair means she has strength. The hibiscus flower is used to worship Goddess Kali and other forms of Goddess Druga
Violets are worn on the hair meaning she will bring good luck to the family.
In India a married women wears flowers on her hair because it brings happiness and prosperity to the family and it is a symbol of Goddess Lakshmi. That wealth will be in the house and Goddess Lakshmi is residing in the house. Flowers are not just worn for beauty but for the well being of the family.
Giving, not taking, is the secret of life.
We make a living by what we get. We make a life by what we give. Sir Winston Churchill
On January 26, 2001, an earthquake of devastating proportions struck Gujarat, India. Responding to the crisis, Sister Marion, the Headmistress of Saint Ursula’s School, Chennai, India, appealed to her students to bring in what they could, for dispatch to Gujarat. But she did not ask for help from fifty children who were huddled in one room, slightly removed from the main building. These were poor children drawn from the slums of the city, who were persuaded to get some schooling, with the incentive of food from school.
One day, a little girl from this group gave Sister Marion some money for Gujarat. Since Sister knew that the child came from a desperately poor family, she asked the girl if she also contributed to the collection their group made. The child nodded and said that her mother did not have any money to give, so she decided to starve for a day, to save a little money for Gujarat. Sister Marion was astounded. She could not hold back her tears.
Here was an unlettered woman, in rags, giving the nun a one-line homily, more powerful than the long ones delivered from pulpits. She wants to help though she has no surplus; she does not have even the bare essentials for survival. Yet, she decides to give, through a sacrifice. What a woman! In one stroke she demolishes the argument of some who plead that they do not have the surplus to help others in need. In an act of greatness, she empties herself, like the widow in the Temple, whom Jesus praises. The widow dropped two copper coins into the Treasury. But that was all she had.
Another touching story comes from Singapore, where maids work part-time in different homes, when they cannot get full-time employment. Joanne is one such maid. She herself is in need, but she decides to share her work with an unemployed friend. By doing that she divides her earnings in two; keeping half, she gives the other half to her friend.
Many virtues are born of the habit of giving. We learn to be compassionate to those in distress and reach out to them. We tend to forgive the faults of others. We joyfully praise the good qualities and performance of others, and willingly respect fair play. These are strong reasons to confirm us in our habit of giving. If we need a more convincing reason, Rousseau has one: When a man dies, he carries in his clenched hands only that which he has given away. So giving here on earth creates a treasure for us in heaven.
Giving does not stop with the giving of things and money. It finds its fullness in the giving of self – when we tear ourselves from selfishness to become selfless.
PS: Ignatius Fernandez is an author of eight books and over sixty articles. Professor of management studies, Corporate Trainer for top management, senior management professional, speaker, counselor and blogger.
- police officer
- certificated financial planner
- stay at home mom