I have been slowly working on another writing project along with my fiction novel. It is a kind of self help work.
My fiction work is deeply personal as I see myself in the characters I write, but in this project there are no characters or settings to hide from it is me. Unfiltered, no where to hide; me.
This is the introduction of the work and I am planning on placing quite a few of the chapters on here for blog posts. Why not right? Might as well rip the bandaid off and expose my fragile heart.
Either way read below and tell me what you think; if you like it of course. If you hate it well keep that information to yourself. Who asked for your opinion anyways. Totally kidding. 🙂 Hope you enjoy the little excerpt.
My Ducks Won’t Even Get in the Water.
-A helpful book from one person trying to figure it out to another.
Everyone in the western hemisphere has heard the saying ‘Get all your ducks in a row.’
It is a nice saying and it is understood to encourage all of us to be organized and have everything in a row to complete a goal or task without any disturbances.
But what about the rest of us? What about when my ducks are refusing to even get in the water. Never mind when they get in the water, I’m hoping they know how to swim, the difference between right and left.
What about them bickering with each other, fighting about why do we have to go this way? Or the bigger question we all face, what does it all mean? Other ducks annoyed about why certain ones are at the front of the figuratively row and they have to bring up the caboose.
Most of this book is truly my own life experiences, along with unfortunate, heart breaking, and embarrassing life stories so far. In writing them down, my hope is it will be encouraging to some, and help you navigate your own life and the many paths it takes you on.
I don’t want to be the trifle person who says I made this mistake therefore don’t do this, blah, blah, blah.
My intent is to truly help you, with a little humor on the journey. I love stories and honestly consider fictional characters to be my personal friends. Therefore, fair warning there will be many references to movies, TV shows, books, and everything else under the sun.
Come on and join me in the water, as I yell, scream, bribe, entice and do everything I can to encourage my ducks to at the very least get in the water.
Writing this book was birthed out of a challenging year of my life. My twenties were difficult and after happily saying goodbye to my perfect body, no visible stretch marks, non-wrinkled eyelids, I embraced my thirties hoping them to be the best ones yet.
My mother and I, since our birthdays are only a week apart, planned a week away in Destin, Florida to celebrate. Three of my friends joined me, one from Texas, one from Michigan, one from Florida, my mother and my sister in law. It was a fun filled week. At the end of the trip, while loading the car for the drive home, I felt a pinch in my back. My back has had many issues especially with traveling or packing luggage it normally hurts for a little while but this time it had a full-blown break down. The full break down did not come till Monday when I was working and by the end of the day, I couldn’t walk.
Skipping over the pain pills, medical tests, having a panic attack in the MRI machine, doctors visits, the final diagnose came. Other than having surgery, which they did not recommend, it was REST. Big medical advice, huh?
So, here I was thirty years old, living with my parents, flat on my back, unemployed with nothing but time to think about my life and how did I get here.
Months of being flat on my back all I had was time and my mind. It gave me the chance to analyze every decision in my life.
There were quite a few months were I did nothing but sleep, cry, and watch TV. I watched a lot of TV in between thinking about past events in my life and past decisions I had made.
One day while lying in my dad’s bed, (he has one of the old people beds made for invalids and old people and in this season it fit me perfectly.) I thought about future blogs and my novel I have been working on. I am a storyteller, forgot to mention that.
This idea of a self-help book of some sort came to mind. I am naturally a person who enjoys giving advice and after spending time in a house full of women and counseling women for a few years I thought maybe I can give advice. My next thought was, but my life is in shambles right now how can I be qualified to tell anyone anything?
Nevertheless, the moment the idea came into my mind, the chapter headings filled my brain at rapid speed. Overflowing and running together, the speed they entered, another one came and overpowered it. I got out of my sick bed and ran, no WAIT walked extremely slowly, hunched over to the notebook in my room and wrote down as many titles as I could remember. And here we are, me having written a self-help-ish book. It still shocks me this is a reality, and here you are, you beautiful soul about to go on this journey with me.
Me, Me, Me.
My life began with drama, from the moment I came out of the womb. Wait we even have to back up from there.
I was born to upper state New Yorkers who made there way to Texas as fast as they could. Later I will explain the way they met.
For now lets begin with the person who carried me for nine months, my mother. My mother was a woman whose childhood was challenging, after having a difficult family life, she vowed to grow up get married, have children, and do it the right way.
My mother married my father at seventeen, and had my first brother at 18, my second brother at 20, then me when she was 25.
She is the epitome of a mother and there are many ways I can prove this to you, she baked cookies for my class for every function, volunteered every field trip, threw extravagant birthdays, and the list goes on. Most mothers are known to be selfless for their children, but my mother takes it to another level. She always wants me to look the best I can, my mother will even bake a cake for me to take somewhere cause I didn’t have time. When I am running out the door, stressed about being late she has already packed all the things I need, and brings me the cake, places it in the car and says with a smile, ‘Tell them you made it.’
My mother wanted a little girl more than anything; she would tell people that she was going to have a little girl even if she had to steal one. My father told her she married into the wrong family since the Ferree linage had only ever had boys. Even my great grandmother could never remember there being any Ferree girls in our history.
After saying this for some time my mother while on her hands and knees cleaning the toilet she prayed. ‘Father, if it is your perfect will for me to only have two boys, then I will be happy and stay in your perfect will.’
DUNDT! DUNDT! DUNDT!
My father was radically converted to Christianity a few months before he married my mother. Once my father was saved, all he wanted was to be a missionary. So with every guest speaker at our church especially missionaries, my father would drag my mother and my two brothers with him to the front. He felt if he kept going to the front eventually one of them would give him the word for where he was to go to be a missionary.
On this particular Sunday the missionary was from Romania, he was a man who had many children and had seen miracles in his lifetime and through him.
My father waited for this man to give him the word.
Instead he grabbed my brother’s face, the younger one, and he said, “Oh what a beautiful boy. Do you have any sisters?”
My brother answered, “No.”
The man said, “Do you want one?”
My mother took his head to nod the answer, YES.
The man then turned to my father and said, “Children are a blessing from the Lord. Receive your blessing.”
That was it for my mother she was pregnant and she was having a girl and it wasn’t by chance, fate or luck, but only by the hand of God.
A few weeks later my when mother found out she was pregnant everyone told her she had talked herself into it, true or not, but the fact remained she was pregnant.
Many other obstacles took place for me to enter this beautiful world, but I made it. And I am still making it.
As a reference for who I am writing this book, I have no certain professional skill sets in life to cause me to be ordained or qualified to write something so graciously a task as a self-help book. The only thing I have to give is my own life experiences and a few of other people who have willingly shared their heart and stories with me.
I am a born again Christian, it is who I am and my relationship with Jesus will be mentioned in different parts of this book, and it is also the viewpoint I have with regards to the world. I am a flawed human and may even use strong words for you to understand the point I am making. But my heart is truly to help and encourage and let you know; you are not alone.
WHAT DO YOU THINK?
That is the sample first chapter. What do you think? Can you relate to any of the above? I know for me when I read over it again I found so many places I could elaborate on but I would rather do that further on down the road.