Tag: general

The First Sentence

What is this post without its beginning? I have heard over the years how important you are and your contribution to the writing process but I’ll be the first to admit, I don’t always put you first. Don’t always put much thought into you. So you test my patience with the very need to begin. Times where my mind is far too cluttered with a hanging word waiting to be pushed to the middle of this screen. You see though I trust that I can give birth here, I have since remembered there is movement in stillness. I have since learned to cherish you as something more than a good morning greeting thrown into the air and smashing into walls. I promise to not turn my back or kiss you gently on the morning after. No longer can, “Hello”, or “What’s up my people?” prove sufficient, for you are the commencement. The beginning. The start of this post and worth more than just some nightly fling. For what is the cake without its icing? The cooking pot without its lid? What is a post without its opening sentence? Must I risk my words boiling over the edge of posts and spilling sloppily into WordPress readers? All this mess that a conclusion of a sentence won’t clean-up for me.

Tales of African American History Found in DNA

Very interesting article. Check it out:

“The history of African Americans poses special challenges for geneticists. During the slave trade, their ancestors were captured from genetically diverse populations across a portion of West Africa. Adding to the complexity is the fact that living African Americans also may trace some of their ancestry to Europeans and Native Americans.”

Faith is Stronger Than Doubt

Why push myself? I do what I do not because I think I’m somehow better than anyone else. I do not immerse myself into work because I think I have it all. I know that even in what I know, I know nothing. I work hard not because I’m perfect. I’m loyal not to gain praise or approval. I do not publish Self-Pub tips and promote authors because I’m someone special. Do not speak with such integrity and confidence because I’ve made it. Most of what I post terrifies me. Who am I to advise? To instruct? To teach? Who am I? Little ole me with less than 1,000 subscribers, barely any reviews and even less social media followers? Who am I to speak as I speak and say the things that I say? I do what I do because faith is stronger than doubt, just as love is stronger than hate, courage more potent than fear, and light stronger than darkness. My faith pushes me to write without fear of judgement and to speak the truth even when my voice shakes.

Erased

I dreamed in my mind

that the Earth seemed to never move

and the ships that sailed on it were slow and quite

they never sounded their horns

or went “Chu! Chu!”

the wind never blew

the stars never popped out of the sky

like silk sheets

and the thunder

never growled its teeth

the fish sat silent

still

alone

even they refused to move

just waited

until the land came home

all of it

everything was gone

the people were like zombies in every town

they went about their daily routines

but from sun up

to sun down

no one

made a sound

it was deception they decided to take it

either that or I’m lost in the matrix

surrounded by people that when they opened their mouths

it seemed they faked it

they would walk right through me

and then walk into the streets

as if with their eyes they could not see

I dreamed the worst dream

no more sun beaming down

no more dirt covering this hallow ground

instead I feel as though I am among graves

people who walk around as if with no brains

but as I stop

and I’m staring a dead man in his face

I realize that these people

have been spiritually

erased.

What Will You Leave Behind?

When the dust settles and the coffin hugs your flesh, what will you leave behind? What would be our final worth when the world is forced to see us, not through the lens of rose-colored glasses but from what we have cultivated in the earth? After the money becomes useless and the ink fades from the degrees we placed so much faith in, will our names linger on the edge of tongues? Will your children grow to benefit from your work? Will you be able to stretch your arms forth in the breath of yesterday and kiss them with creativity? I wonder if children are in my future and, if so, if they will live to cherish my books one day.

What would ultimately become of these words? Will they become heirlooms on the shelves of memory? Will my offspring reminisce on an existence that did not include them and somehow influenced their decisions? I am smitten with the reflections of these revelations, how my ancestors lived and how those lives affect us today—the nostalgic images of yesterday and the way they Underground Railroad themselves into the future. I am forced to consider what kind of tracks I will leave behind for others to follow. Will the sweat of labor coddle my children’s tears, or will it just become moisture for the worms of the earth when the dust has settled, and the maggots hug my flesh? I wonder.

Excel At Being Yourself: Redefining Success

A man and his son were on their way to town. On their way they ran into different people. The first group thought someone should be riding the donkey. They thought it silly that the man and his son had a donkey that they were not riding. So the old man decided to ride the donkey. The next group thought the son should be riding the donkey. “How could he have his son to walk?” they thought. So the son climbed on top the donkey. Another group thought, “Poor Donkey. You two should carry the donkey,” they thought. So the old man and his son tied the donkey to a pole and carried him. The final group just laughed and laughed. “Why are they carrying the Donkey?” In the end, the Donkey finally got frustrated and ran away. So read a children’s book.

A man wrote a book. He Self-Published this book, and spent 200k on a book launch that failed. According to him, he didn’t make The New York Times Bestsellers list. Sure, he made other awesome lists and made enough money to quit his job. But he didn’t make the NYT so the launch failed, or so he said.

A Bestseller could be a book that just keeps selling. A book that people cannot stop talking about. A book that, years from now, will continue to make money. How much? It doesn’t matter. What matters? People keep talking about it. At least this is one definition of a bestseller.

Success is when you excel at being who you are and doing things the way you want it done. Perfecting your invention is what makes others want to invest in it because its original. Its something that hasn’t been done before. Why hasn’t it been done before? Because you hadn’t been born yet. Instead of figuring out how everyone else has done it, how about we redefine what it means to be successful by investing in the visions we’ve been given and perfecting them? How about we sharpen our blogging, writing, photography, or whatever skills we have and release this greatness into the world? How about we become professionals because we’re good at what we do and not because the status quo deems it so. After all, what is a professional anyway? More so, who told you that’s what it was?