Losing a Neighbor and Writing

Last summer, I awoke at 3:00am to a startling scene; red and blue flashing lights of fire trucks and cop cars all up and done my street.  My husband and I, plus our two oldest boys hesitantly walked down the street and were horrified to realize my neighbor’s house was on fire. 

I found out the next day my neighbor, Kirby Allen had passed away in the house.

This tragedy really hit home because even though I was friends with my neighbor and I’d wave to him when he drove by, I didn’t even know his first name until he died.  What type of neighbor was I, to not ever introduced myself?  If only I’d reached out more?  And for not even knowing Kirby Allen all that well, I missed him. I worried that he suffered and had been scared.  I realized I loved Kirby Allen.  Every time I drove by his collapsed home, my eyes would tear up. 

The incident was all over the news.  I read about his life in the newspaper later that week.  His life was amazing and full of accomplishments.  He was eclectic and an artist and passionate.  He was someone I would have loved to hang out with, learn from his life and enjoy what he had to share.  But, I couldn’t do that anymore. Kirby was gone.  Like most of life’s issues, I turned to writing to help me cope with the sorrow of this tragedy. 

I wrote about Kirby Allen on my blog here.  The response was overwhelming. Not only did I hear from his grown children, but I received emails from extended family from all over the country.  I received calls from church members and neighbors.  A friend of mine suggested I submit the article to the Arizona Republic newspaper for publication and it was published the day of Kirby’s funeral. 

Below is the press release I submitted, in the format I found most professional.  I’m grateful something I felt in my heart was able to bring comfort to those who knew and loved Kirby Allen.  

HOW IS IT I DIDN’T KNOW KIRBY ALLAN UNTIL HE DIED?

Mesa, AZ, June 23, 2011 -- You’ve been my neighbor since I was 14 years old. 

How is it I never knew you?

You lived across the street from my parents with your collection of chickens and ducks and exotic cars in the driveway. My little brother called you “Chicken man” and he did his best to keep his dog off your property.  You wore your personality on the outside of your house with many patriotic emblems, including a ten-foot Statue of Liberty in your front yard.

After I married, I moved back into the neighborhood in a house my husband and I could afford. Trick or treating on Halloween, your house was aglow with white ghosts and orange pumpkins.  My husband and I lured our scared kids up your side walk.  You coaxed them to touch the plastic bats hanging from your porch.  You had candy, a friendly smile and chickens.  From that day forward, my kids called you “Chicken Man” too. 

Occasionally, I’d see you drive down the street in your white pick-up and you’d stop to talk about weather and irrigation schedules. Eventually, your ducks had babies that burrowed in patches of desert rose you’d planted, creating a storybook scene in our Mesa neighborhood. 

Another year, another Halloween and an excuse to walk up your sidewalk, past the Statue of Liberty, past your upside down American flag, inside terraces of bougainvillea and back into your world, but of course, I didn’t even know your name.

I woke up Thursday June 16^th at 3:00am to a street carnival of red and blue flashing lights.  It was eerily quiet when I saw your house engulfed in fire.  Flames almost 20-feet high tinged the tops of your palm trees.  Never had I seen such force, never had I seen firefighters at work.  It was a strange sort of suffering.

At 4:30am, my family and I walked home, back to our beds.  I wasn’t until morning I found out you had died in the house fire.

And I cried.

I cried, hoping with all my might you hadn’t suffered, but I guess that’s naive.  To think death took you in such a frightening way makes me sad and angry

I read in the newspaper you name was Kirby Allan.  You were a famous musician, a WWII veteran and ran for Mayor of Mesa 9 times.  You lived an amazing life.

I wish I would’ve known you Kirby Allan. I wish I would’ve reached out.

The fire fighters took down your flag, folding it into a triangle.  Your Statue of Liberty stands unharmed and your bougainvillea reach toward heaven.  Chickens run in your backyard, hiding in their roosts under your antique wood wagon wheels and piles of limber. 

Your three grown children are taking care of things, looking through stuff, trying to make sense of your blessed life that ended in a tragic accident.

I miss you Kirby Allan.  Take care of the desert roses in heaven and know that you are loved, even by a neighbor who barely knew you.

LTUE Adventures!

Oh dear. I had so much fun this week anticipating and preparing to attend Life, the Universe, and Everything...that I forgot it's my turn to blog! Theresa Sneed, Betsy Love, and I stayed up way too late last night catching up with each others lives and enjoyed every minute. Today was a flurry of rushing to UVU and finding the best classes to attend.

I listened to a marvelous panel discussion on marketing your writing. Remember - Be interesting and be entertaining. Authors can longer afford to be incognito. Also: Stalk, Steal, and Mutate marketing methods you see other authors use. One idea I particularly liked: Post Cards. Put your cover on the front and hand write an invitation to 12 of your nearest book stores to purchase your book. Then send 12 more to local schools and ask them to please have you there. Send some more to libraries.

Podcasting for writers was a fascinating discussion and I learned a ton in the class on pitches and queries. Remember: A one (or at least no more than 4) sentence elevator pitch to capture the interest of the agent or editor. Then, be able to express what makes your novel unique. Add any marketing ideas you have -- make yourself useful to the editor. They want to be "infected with your passion." The number one mistake given is the tendency for authors to hold back on what they give the editor/agent. They want the whole story!

It helps to position your story. "This is a book in the ___style like (name a best seller.) Remember that you need to be able to communicate how your story has a likeable hero with a noble goal who faces tremendous obstacles that result in fascinating consequences. Be simple, memorable, and powerful. Then stop talking.

We have control over writing the very best story we can write. We do not have control over what other people are pitching. Timing is huge in the publishing industry.

Build a brand. Keep writing. Network. Keep writing. Read. Keep writing. Do I detect a pattern here?

Happy writing, everyone!

Shoes and the Incredible Hulk

by Nikki McBride Spencer

So you are a writer. You write for fun and because you like to tell stories. You have always written as far back as you can remember. But what if you want to actually make a living writing, and the maybe-I'll-make-it-big-one-day dream is fading fast? After all, the kids need shoes. What are your options if you decide not to pursue writing fiction novels for money?

Sure, we all would love to be the next Stephenie Meyers or the female equivalent to John Grisham, but how many of us really will do just that? Some might. Most of us...probably not, for various reasons.

Many of us write because we love it, and not for the potential paycheck it might bring--and that's just fine. There is no good reason NOT to write for fun, if that is what you love.

However, [insert real life here] those last year's sneaker soles keep flapping at you when your kid walks through the door. He's like the Incredible Hulk--you swear you can actually see his toe growing right through the shoe. Your daughter desperately needs a real bed. After all, she's six now and that toddler bed *really* won't do anymore. Hubby's 15 year-old car is still chugging, but for how long?

These are questions that plague me at night, and maybe they needle at you, too.

Do I follow my dream of writing a novel? Truly, fully commit for a year, give it my all and then submit on a hope and the strength of my dream? Can I even finish a novel with my other responsibilities looming? (Three half-done YA fantasies live quite comfortably on my hard drive. I think they are being lazy loafers.) So many rejections stare at me from the doorway of that future. Do I really want to go there?

Or, do I put novel writing on hold indefinitely and pursue other writing professions? Really give it my all and go for it? The financial odds staring back at me look decidedly better than a what-if. I do have some skills as a web designer and copywriter. I do own a small business with big potential marketing to dentists. And even though I wouldn't be writing fiction, I would be writing for pay--and that in itself is hugely satisfying to me.

But what of the book? What of the fantasy characters floating through my dreams? What do I do? What would you do?

World Book Night & Black History Month

By Leesa Ostrander

This month is Black History month. I have a wonderful poet I know that writes from the soul about the roots of Black history and her family history.

However, I am saving this for a later post because I came across a wonderful opportunity as passionate readers, editors, writers and educators.

World Book Night is upon us!

http://www.us.worldbooknight.org/about-world-book-night

 It is annual event where we get to share the love of books with our community!!!!! I cannot put enough exclamations points here.

I am an avid reader and educator and feel receiving free books to share with families that may not have the opportunity to own books, is worth the blog post.

The date to register is past, yet we can still help. I encourage everyone send an email and ask what you can do to help. Let’s get the word out and help support this cause (facebook users there is a “like” button).

This night is on April 23^rd to promote reading, literacy and the value of reading.

Second post:

For this month’s post I wanted to share the wonderful culture we live in and celebrate Black History Month. I have the chance to know a wonderful poet. She shares her passion with all she encounters. After talking with her, I looked into National Poetry Month. ( I will post in two weeks about our discussion dealing with Black History Month, her poems and being published)

National Poetry Month is recognized in April in the United States and Canada and in October in Great Britain. The month was inspired by Black History Month, which is celebrated in Feburary.

It happens that I was talking with my friends about great poets and we both agreed that meeting Maya Angelou would top the list.

I would also like to meet Eugene Field. His poem “Wynken, Blynken and Nod” is my favorite, but that is a blog post for April.

Maya Angelou is a well-known poet, author, speaker, songwriter, director and many more. She was the first Black woman to be a director in Hollywood. I knew of her from the book “Caged Bird Sings” and many of her poems are quoted in motivational sessions and in education.

She is a contributor and influence to cultural arts. Her words are passionate and really make me think and contemplate the meaning.

Maya Angelou’s poem “Still I Rise” (http://www.famouspoetsandpoems.com/poets/maya_angelou/poems/482) speaks meaning beyond the words. It touches me at times of challenges and I know I will rise.

Do you have favorite poet, author or contributor to the arts?