Come and Gone

The workforce no longer grips me, I’m old, and pyjamas are my favourite “clothes, and I thought my dream job settled me into writing and publishing. I still write and publish, but my mind keeps taking me back to what really had settled me into my dream job.

After discovering through an agency in my early thirties that I indeed have learning differences, the agency put me through testing to ascertain my weaknesses and strengths. What surprised me is the fact I went through public school and high school with these difficulties that glowed red under testing, and no one knew why I struggled with learning. Geometry, puzzles, math, all those kinds of abilities are my disabilities. However, I scored in the ninety-eighth percentile for written communication, despite my dyslexic reversals. So I went back to school, taking four college courses to launch myself into my strength. I’ve written since childhood, and much of it came out poetry. I finished with an average of ninety-eight percent. But there’s always, always someone better at writing than myself.

As it turns out, when I had gone for all the testing, the agency who arranged this for me had me say a few words at their convention, because I overcame my learning disabilities with the attitude of, “If I really try, I will understand how my mind works, and I will conquer this nonsense of feeling sorry for myself,” and turned with my dyslexia, that phrase “LD” to “DL” which is Learning Disabilities to Different Learning.

The speech got me a standing ovation. I had no cue cards, no external prompts, and not much notice asking me to speak. I spoke from my heart. I used words like ‘gonna, and ‘wanna’—oh so “unprofessional”. Despite this, many came to me afterwards and thanked me for teaching them how to handle different learning, and they thanked me for infusing confidence into them. I never felt proud, per se, but I felt exhilarated for helping so many.

I landed myself the position of Key Note speaker for many more of ATN Access Inc. events. I love, love, loved it. I know I’ve always been quite the verbalizer. My mother had often told me to “Give your tongue a rest.” I never did, seems I couldn’t.

Another favourite job had me at Fanshawe College teaching a creative writing course, I entitled, Descriptive Writing. This focused on character development and imagery. I live in a small city, and it only took two years to continue classes until I ran out of fills. I loved this job, too, and of course it involved not giving my tongue a rest. But my all time favourite job goes down in my history as Key Note speaking, and it payed crazy good.

Well, that was a bit. Now I need to get back to writing this book I’m halfway through. I still love to write, but I’d welcome the chance to speak to a thousand in a room again. The only drawback is having to wear clothes. PJs are so much more comfy, right?

Bloganuary writing prompt

What’s your dream job?

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She Hid it From Me for Years

Just when you think your grown children are okay, sometimes it turns out they’re not. At age twelve, she told me it started: anorexia. Now in her thirties this has finally come out, she wanted help, she finally understood she continued to stave herself to death. Death… and this is most definitely the unclean spirit of DECEPTION. I wrote a poem for her. She found it to be powerful, and I did other things for her to stop the madness of anorexia. I’m posting this poem as many girls and women have this unclean spirit of deception, and perhaps sharing the may help.

Hunger Ghosts

She is a mother, daughter, sister, friend

She’s devoted to Jesus, and her babies too

Yet she hosts a haunting hunger to devour

her body and mind

to spit out faith in traces

till faith be nearly done

Blackness invites way

to slippery entrance

down, round and slide

the consuming lie

But she, by the watch of God,

reaches for the vine displayed

She grasps God’s mind

to board that battle

and seeks to have victory

over the demons’ wiles

to destroy her in abundance of desolation

The hunger ghosts

demand interior famine

day and night, wake and sleep

on and on till the bones’ flesh do evaporate

She is my daughter

grown and beautiful

wise, keen, gentle

but deceived, ashamed, she hid from me no appetite

Deep within my casting out—“Noooo, Nooooo!”—a ghostly mutiny

when God in me reached

God in she 

for her delivery

Life, alive, the I AM, to ax dark’s scheme

She feels gone is sorrow, soon of days

accepts it as healing her pain

Then she teaches this course of deceit

to cover over and keep

her own daughter from haunting hunger ghosts.

Mom Oct. 4, 2023

Copyright Infringement Under our Noses

It happens daily—right under our noses. It’s on social media, it’s on Amazon, and unless they’re told about it, IngramSpark prints for scamming publishers.

I’ve worked hard to stop my former publisher from collecting 100% of my Amazon royalties. In a contract I didn’t receive until I my novel hit the Amazon shelf, it stated if I buy books from IngramSpark, the publisher keeps 100 per cent of Amazon. I had a contract, read it, found it to be sound, and sent in my manuscript. Knew nothing of a second contract.

This is an independent publisher who is actually a self publishing venue in the way the authors pay every dime toward publishing. When I asked about my royalties, it took two times asking before I received a spreadsheet with two sales. Hey, this doesn’t line up, I  have screenshots from at least nine buyers! This s when I hit the Amazon venue in November of 2018.

The contract also stated an author could pull out of the company, so I did and I began my fight to get my novel back under my control. The copyright was put under his company name, so I had a hell of a fight with Amazon to prove my novel was mine, my work, my efforts. And I’ll likely never see any of those royalties. I wrote Amazon nearly every day, fighting for my rights. They got frustrated with me and took down the Kindle, considered the case closed, but my print copy still excited, giving this publisher more royalties. I eventually succeeded in getting it off .com while .ca continued to sell it. This has gone on since the middle of April. In the meantime, I received many emails from third party sellers who were horrified they’d sold my novel under copyright infringement. Amazon warned them, but continued to sell themselves. Calling them on that seemed to be what moved things. But not enough. They kept sending different forms for me to fill out, basically taking back to the first of the forms they directed me to fill out. Circles, circles.

Something inside me said to tell IngramSpark. One e-mail and they understood the seriousness of my quest and they cancelled the ISBN. There are two copies available, and once they’re sold, that’s it. No more of that ISBN can be printed and sold.

If I had done nothing, my work would appear as copyright owned by the publisher.  It’s a rare incident for a publisher to put the copyright symbol under their company rather than the author’s name. That leads to nothing good for the author.

Make sure before seeking a publisher you investigate their books, their reviews, their websites, and their track record on Writer Beware and Independent Author’s Association.  Those two at least. Check the technical page to see who copyrights are listed under.

I actually had two traditions publishers accept me. The fist contract and editing were unacceptable, so no signature. The next offered a negotiable contract, and when we  finished, the contract was excellent; however, my publisher worked on edits, but she felt too ill to keep up  and continue. The publisher who did me wrong actually knew this publisher and ‘did me a favour’ by cancelling the contract by giving her an author and taking me. This shocked me, yet there I sat in edits with no publisher. Against my gut, I accepted anyway—because the contract I had been given looks fair, it felt good. Too good perhaps….

I will survive. I’m selling copies I purchased before I left, and when the they are gone, I have a new ISBN and will have the novel reprinted with a new technical page, copyright under my own company name. My novel is getting a buzz now, I look forward to enjoying the rest of this journey. Will I get rich and famous? Not expected, but my reviews are outstanding, and I have it in a unique store; 916 Galleria Artisans & Crafters in St. Thomas, Ontario. It’s selling—and it’s me getting the royalties so I can recover from publishing costs.

Best to you and your publishing journey. Stick up for yourself. Don’t buckle under a narcissist.

Thanks for reading.

Oh-so-human People Hood

Launched by our day of birth, we are delivered into the human race, each of us having joined the people hood association.  We live akin having basic nutritional needs for health, growth and survival.  Yet, unequal “nutrient” measures are required for our individual learning stimulus and potential mind development.  Particular learning styles can be as distinct as our bodies, personalities, preferences and capabilities.  

We are all equipped to learn as we grow, but sometimes we cannot advance as per certain teaching methods.  Everyone possesses adequacies—like definitive fingerprints—those distinguished abilities must be fostered.  Since our human bodies are not resembled exactly alike, not even identical twins, it makes sense that our human minds are assembled differently as well.  Consider various character traits and personal likes and dislikes people have for foods, hobbies, clothes, music, literature….  Perceptions of our environment differ, it’s obvious, our homes reflect our individualism as well as the artistic creations we savour.  

Although inter mutual similarities form assemblages, those groups consist of personal contributions.  Creative-minded artists orchestrate the vast entertainment industry with unique styles; actors, comedians, musicians….  Interior decorators have diverse flair; writers, their own voice…while other faculties include a range of technicians, lawyers, scientists; foods industry….  All an asset to their field.  Point made, I’m sure, saying that people hood is balanced out by a plethora of talents and specific contributions which make up divergent categories in societal links.  Speculate, though.  Does everybody learn in the same manner to find their niche?  

If absolutely everyone could learn the way they think, if you will, imagine the productivity and confidence within each person.  There were/are individuals so unique in their thinking that, “Eureka!”, mind-blowing concepts continue to be developed; lifesaving medication and technology, communications devices, travel modes just to mention a few.  Diverse-thinking historical figures pushed against the grain to be taken seriously, and prevailed.  They are gone, yet their outstanding contributions, not forgotten.

 The five senses contribute significantly to our learning, and more fundamentally, our individual impressions of what we’re sensing react to convey information about our environment and produce thoughts constantly.  Perhaps we take our sight, hearing, tactile sensitivities, olfactory glands and taste buds for granted, but still, without the five sensations, touch being the most important, human contact would be deficient in gratifying communication encounters.  People who are lacking one or more of the five senses have heightened awareness of their existing senses and learn to utilize their abilities.  When an individual has one or more learning differences or disabilities, their ability in another area or areas is accentuated and those proficiencies should be encouraged and promoted.  But for several reasons, this does not usually happen.  

 Numerous students are stressed in a world of do-it-or-fail.  But, if students’ learning styles, talents and strengths were recognized and given precedence over whole curriculum styles and students’ particular weaknesses, perhaps everyone would love school.  Not to say that one’s weak areas should be ignored, particularly reading, but forced techniques for the sake of the whole-system curriculum—are not learned—they’re resented.  Frustrated students can attest to the width of curriculum cracks they’re slipping through.   

Nonetheless, in comparison to “old school,” the educational methods are improving, slow but sure.  Now, even though the system is still designed for masses of students as a whole and integration still applies, LDs are finally being recognized as an alternative learning style and our western culture is beginning to realize an ancient truth: people have individual, unique minds.  LD strengths are noticed and commended more than before.  Children and adults alike now have the opportunity for equal rights in their education.  

Adults, listen, be encouraged if you learn differently than others, whether you’re young or matured.  It’s special to be in the minority because LD persons, past and present, have contributed greatly to society.  Google famous LD people and see for yourself.  Our passionate interests are most usually indicative of our natural gifts and talents.  Explore yourself.   Your success will still require time, effort and practice, as with anyone else, regardless of learning style, so pursue what you feel you are good at.

Myself, I think and do differently, and it’s not always easy to find passage in the sea with my learning-style compass.  It takes patient navigating, but with a ship constructed of diligence, I have sailed into a “The world!—she’s’ a-round!” discovery of reachable, fulfilling accomplishments.  My diagnoses of ADD, dyslexia and NVD opened my world up, and I wrote a novel. My editor waded through the errors, bless him for bringing it up to standards.

If I can do sail the LD sea, trust me, you can too.  I actually obtained a Children’s Writing diploma (just needed extra time); I have taught my curriculum development,  at my local Fanshawe college as an evening interest course. I have had several articles published in this newsletter and I’m constructing a poetry chapbook.  Receiving an educational awards spurred me on.    

Embark upon your journey.  Pack unlimited positive attitude supplies and claim your discovery.  A precious diamond is first hidden in a lump of hard, black coal, then uncovered, it’s worth something.  Remember that.

I wrote They All Wore Black, a meaningful story. Because I could. There are just days to my publishing goal. Find more about it here:
https//www.facebook.com/PennersPen88/