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The Many Colors of US

August 22, 2021 by in category Write From the Heart by Veronica Jorge tagged as , , ,

A Reflection On Diversity

by Veronica Jorge

Most people are a combination of various cultures, though I think their ancestors tended to confine their marriages to one continent. Mine didn’t. 

I am a potpourri of Nicaraguan, Dominican, Middle-Eastern, French, Chinese, and African cultures, (hope I didn’t miss anyone); and born in Brooklyn, New York.

Often pressured to take sides and answer, ‘So what are you?’ I comprehended the complexity of diversity. But how could I choose which part of me is the most important? The combination of each nationality made me who I am, makes me whole.

Considering the current challenges that threaten to divide our country, memories carry me back to my childhood and to that pivotal moment of September 11, 2001.

Growing up in New York City my life revolved around a kaleidoscope of colors and nationalities. I was present each year at the Irish St. Patrick’s Day Parade. At age twelve I learned my first Israeli folk dance. I never missed the West Indian Day Parade. The glittery costumes of performers on stilts and musicians danced the length of Eastern Parkway, home to one of Brooklyn’s largest Caribbean and Orthodox Jewish communities.

During the holidays we baked cookies for the police officers and firefighters.

The neighborhood pizzeria was our favorite hangout. I can still see Tony’s can of Medaglia D’Oro coffee on the shelf.  The best desserts were from Sinclair’s German bakery where I feasted on cinnamon-raisin rugelach. For newspapers and comic books, (yes, I know, I’m dating myself), we went to Kasim’s candy store, a Yemenite, who also made the best ice cream soda. Hungry? Tom’s Greek diner for a hamburger deluxe. Need a little bling bling? The Armenian jewelry store located two doors down near the Cuban dress shop. Then stop in at the Haitian photo studio where Roland would snap your picture and let you practice your high school French. Puerto Rican bodegas, Chinese, Dominican, Indian, Pakistani, Polish restaurants, and exquisite Russian delicacies; the list goes on. We had it all.

We were so many different faces from so many different places, but we were neighbors, friends, classmates, co-workers. We were a community. We were…we are Americans.

After the attack on the World Trade Center, we felt an emptiness of something lost, and unsure if the wound would heal. Our eyes watered. Strangers held hands. Our voices cracked singing the national anthem. A palpable patriotism enveloped us as we reached out to embrace and encourage one another and ourselves. Gratitude for our peace and freedom, and thanksgiving for the abundance America has provided for us filled our hearts.

Yet uncertainty clouded our vision. In a city where everyone carries backpacks, tote bags, over-size purses, and shopping bags, we feared the contents they might contain within while the slogan warned in our ears. ‘See something, say something.’

We stepped back from colleagues and classmates measuring the people we smiled at and lunched with every day. Do I truly know him? Can I trust her? How do they really feel about me?

My brown face worried I would be mistaken for a terrorist, yet my eyes doubted the integrity of the brown face from whom I had bought my daily paper for ten years.

These unplanned thoughts and fears that arose within us revealed the inconsistencies of our human nature. On the one hand; quick to help, befriend and love, yet so easily prone to judge, accuse, and look the other way.

Our nation has known its full share of prejudice and discrimination. We have all experienced it. Throughout our history each religious and ethnic group has skillfully practiced hostility against another. And yet, somehow, we have succeeded in overcoming many of these divisions. Our collective love of freedom always forces us to cry out against inequality and injustice wherever we see it, and especially when we discover it in ourselves. It is to our credit that despite the many conflicts our country has endured, race and ethnicity have not prevailed to divide us. At every level of society, from friendships, neighbors, and marriages to work, sports, and blended families, we find strength and unity in the shared values that make us unique. This unity, forged in the fires of adversity, cannot easily be dissolved.

Just as I cannot remove any of the cultures within me, for they are part of me and make me who I am, we as a nation, cannot separate ourselves from each other. We are joined together. It is who we are. Like the colorful and oddly shaped pieces of a jigsaw puzzle, we make a perfect fit that forms and reveals a magnificent creation.

Our family portrait called America.

Veronica Jorge

See you next time on September 22nd!

Originally published in The Morning Call Newspaper, August 13, 2021


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Tari Lynn Jewett: August Featured Author

August 21, 2021 by in category Featured Author of the Month tagged as , , , , ,

Tari Lynn Jewett lives in Southern California with her husband of nearly thirty years (also known as Hunky Hubby). They have three amazing sons, a board game designer, a sound engineer and a musician, all who live nearby. For more than fifteen years she wrote freelance for magazines and newspapers, wrote television commercials, radio spots, numerous press releases, and many, MANY PTA newsletters. As much as she loved writing those things, she always wanted to write fiction…and now she is.

She also believes in happily ever afters…because she’s living hers.

http://tarilynnjewett.com/


Tari’s Books

#HAUNTEDHERMOSA

Buy now!
#HAUNTEDHERMOSA

#12DANCINGSANTAS

Buy now!
#12DANCINGSANTAS

#FIREWORKS IN THE FOG

Buy now!
#FIREWORKS IN THE FOG

#SILVER BRACELETS

Buy now!
#SILVER BRACELETS
#PLEASE SAY YES (#HermosafortheHolidays Book 1)

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Make Mine Slang by Jenny Jensen

August 19, 2021 by in category On writing . . . by Jenny Jensen tagged as , , , , ,

This character, Tall T Reynolds, is growing in my mind. I can see him tanned and raw and a bit dusty. I know his world is the 1940’s rural west and I know he’s going to briefly meet Lottie, a beautiful girl in a gleaming open topped coupe. Their brief exchange will never leave his mind. Soon after, Tall T will go off to war in Europe. He and Lottie will meet again in a most unexpected way.

I want these two MCs to be drawn as very different in all ways but the heart. I want to show those differences subtly and naturally. I want to tell the story mostly in dialog, no long narratives, no narrative tells. I know that means voice and tone will have to be pitch perfect so it’s language that shows their differences, that makes each wholly human and credible. I thought about using dialect but rejected the idea. I don’t trust my skills to pull that off successfully. Besides, they are both smart and fairly well educated. This is not a rustic pauper gets the princess story. Still, they are from very different worlds – until they’re not.

After rummaging about a bit in the writer’s toolbox, I’m thinking slang as a way to initially set them apart and ultimately bring them together. Slang is an interesting critter. It’s a very flexible tool. It’s hard to pin down what is slang and what isn’t. Slang changes so fast. Yesterday’s ‘far out’ is today’s ‘snatched’, but it’s pretty clear what slang does for us. The casual use of slang terms show we’re in the know, we belong to that group who understands what it is to ‘I oop’. More to my purposes, slang is a shared affinity of age and disposition and attitude.

Slang can be subversive, playful, derisive, affectionate, even endearing – all such very human qualities – and human is what I want to show in circumstances that aren’t all that humane. Ever changing, almost updating itself to fit shifting circumstances slang morphs from common terms to become familiar to a community who is living and sharing shifting circumstances. How else explain today’s use of ‘ghost’? Slang can turn meaning topsy turvy, assigning an opposite meaning to words – an effective response to a world that feels turned upside down. To say you ‘destroyed’ something today certainly doesn’t mean to me what it means to a teen.

Because slang is a hallmark of a shared, exclusive world it’s the perfect devise to reinforce the journey of Tall T and Lottie through the chaos of a world war to a shared reality. They will be tested in ways they’ve never imagined in a world where familiar conventions don’t always apply and time can be frightfully short. At their first meeting, Lottie’s language will baffle Tall T; he will know from that brief exchange that they are from very different worlds. By the end, they will share an unspoken understanding of how fubar life can be. They’ll both know the world is cockeyed and with one exchange of peepers they’ll know where to meet because they have all the dope on the good places. They are people with plenty of moxie who become each other’s killer diller.

I will be careful though. I don’t want them to sound like they’re trying too hard to be cool, or are too stupid to express themselves in any other way. I want to salt the slang effectively, add just that kick of heat a touch of chili adds to a good stew. Like seasoning, I’m going to need a deft hand. I can imagine how clumsy a slang word could feel, or how tiresome the overuse could become. There’s a lot of revision ahead for me if I’m going to Keep it 100. Forewarned is forearmed. I’ll stop beating my gums now and immerse myself in the slang of The Greatest Generation. Roger. Wilco.


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Using Small Conflicts To Move a Story Along

August 18, 2021 by in category Ages 2 Perfection Online Class, Online Classes tagged as , , , ,

Presented by: Mary Marvella
Date: September 1 – 30, 2021
Pricing: A2P Member fee: $15
Non-A2P Member fee: $30

About the Workshop:

“Using Small Conflicts To Move a Story Along” will involve ways to cure sagging middles in any story.

Writers who don’t plot can find themselves painted into a corner or wondering what to do next. Even plotters sometimes find a story seems to be going nowhere. Sometimes the problems are solved, but the book needs to be longer. OOPS!

So what can we do about that? Students and I will share ways to make scenes more meaningful and give characters problems that fit the situation and make those characters stronger for the new problems.
I will give lessons/lectures about why stories need conflicts, small and large, internal and external, to keep excitement going and readers reading.

Students will select slow scenes from their projects or create them so we can pump life into them with small or large rocks. I will give examples of problems based on the stories. We will brainstorm and share scenes on the loop each week.

About the Presenter:

Mary Marvella has been a storyteller for as long as she can remember. The arrival of the book mobile was as exciting as hearing the music of the ice cream truck. As a child of the South, she inherited the storytelling gene from her parents and her grandmamas.

Retired from teaching classic works of the masters, Mary plays let’s pretend with her characters. She has published 10 novels, 1 book on editing, and a collection of Christmas stories.

Mary tutors, and coaches writers when she isn’t working on projects as a freelance editor. She has always been a grammar geek who loved soaking up new knowledge and reading everything, including labels on cereal boxes.

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Yankee Thunder: The Legendary Life of Davy Crockett

August 17, 2021 by in category Apples & Oranges by Marianne H. Donley tagged as , ,

Today is Davy Crockett’s birthday.

Almost everyone over a certain age will now start singing the Disney Theme song and imagining Fess Parker in a coonskin cap, but not me. Oh, I pass the age test, but I have a book that belonged to my mother, titled YANKEE THUNDER: The Legendary Life of Davy Crockett. That depiction of Davy Crockett wins out over the TV show for me, but not without a bit of sadness.

Yankee Thunder

Written by Irwin Shapiro with pictures by James Daugherty, it was a fixture of my childhood. In the book Davy is born man-sized, weighing in at two hundred pounds and fourteen ounces. To feed him, his parents plant him in the ground and water him with wild buffalo’s milk mixed with boiled corn cobs and tobacco leaves.

He grows so big that by chapter four his family must whittle him down to man-size. Out on adventures, Davy finds two unusual pets, a bear named Death Hug, and a buffalo called Mississip.

As much fun as all this is, unfortunately, I would never recommend the book today, especially not for children. While the book shows Davy Crockett as sympathetic towards native people, native people themselves are characterized in the most bigoted and stereotypical way.

I hope we have learned in the 78 years since Yankee Thunder was published not to use negative and hurtful stereotypes in our writing. I’d like to think our stories can be recommended without reservation.

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