Magic in Blog

 There are days when I wish I had a wand, a magic wand.  The very idea of being able to wave a stick and poof the uglies into oblivion appeals to me.  If I owned that wand I could blog about magic.  My status could be: expert in abracadabra.  People would come from the four corners of cyberspace to read my blog. 

Where would I begin the magic?  Would I remove all disease? Replace sorrow with happiness or death with life?  How would I discriminate between those who would get a wave and those I would pass over?  Would I be playing God with my magic? Selfishness might overtake me and suddenly all the magic would be sullied by opportunists banging on my door making offers to exploit my powers. 

The truth is there is no magic, no incantation that will allow anyone of us to escape the bumpy roads of life.  There is a beginning and there is an end.  There are no potions or elixirs to instill passion or power to those unworthy or incapable of securing the same on their own. 

There are few, if any, short cuts, such as magic for averting the inevitable, or for redirecting fate or destiny.  The magic is carried not in a wand, but inside each one of us.  A fairy godmother with the power to turn pumpkins into coaches and frogs into princes is not the magic we need to seek. 

Faith in the unknown brings with it surprises, if we stay open to the possibilities of tomorrow, then having faith allows magic to happen over and over.  The best I could do with a magic wand would be to play it forward.   

 Stay true to your bliss, to yourself and to the magician within. 

Blog what you hear, think and feel.

 

Linda Merlino,author, Belly of the Whale

http://www.lindamerlino.com

http://www.kunati.com/linda-merlino

 

Blog Me a Metaphor

 Blog me a metaphor, turn a phrase and replace its true meaning with another.  Would if I could blog you a metaphor, but I can’t, because tonight my brain is a sieve.  Not one thing that goes in stays long enough to make a difference.  All I can say about metaphors is that my whole life is one, a series of ongoing metaphors. 

It started off way back, when one day a long-long time ago I realized that I must be living someone else’s life, that my life was not the one I signed up for.  My life was a metaphor, not of blue skies and sunshine, but more like a twister over Kansas.  The life I knew and had grown to love had the rug pulled out from under, and all that was left was me holding on to the metaphorical “edge” by my fingernails. 

Having arrived at life on the edge, I had to learn to navigate the planet with a different perspective.  First the rules had all changed, and most days there were no rules.  I had to learn to think by the seat of my pants.  Improvise on the spot.  Lie through my teeth and smile through adversity.

If mamma is good, the kids will be too.  This metaphor for optimism is more difficult to execute than almost any task before or after.  Sifting or wading through emotions, the ones that you wear on your sleeve and the ones you seek comfort for, disallow feeling good.

Mamma often felt like she’d taken a trip through hell and back, mamma sometimes did not feel good, no matter how hard she tried to fake it.  What’s the metaphor for that?

Blog a metaphor, here’s one: life is a circle.  The wheel goes round and round taking you into and out of the light, either you face the sun or the darkness.  

Once upon a time I learned about metaphors.  The ones that shape beliefs and daily do’s.  I learned about give and take.  I learned about living behind a mask of pretend, I learned about life lessons and what matters in the Big Picture.

I learned to be grateful for each new day.  I learned not to take myself too serious, and how to laugh even when I wanted to cry.  I raised the bar on my own goals and dreams.  I learned to shoot for the moon.

Blog what you see, what you feel and what you hear.

Linda Merlino, author, Belly of the Whale, release April 1, 2008

http://www.lindamerlino.com 

http://www.kunati.com/linda-merlino                      

Hope in Blog

This is a blog about hope; a four letter word that we can’t live without.  

 We throw this word around without thought:  “I hope you can make it….” “You are our last hope…”   “Don’t give up hope…”  “All we can do is hope…” 

On and on it goes, these four letters strung together, our glue, our reason to go forward, our response to life gone sour, to life turning the corner, and to life in general.  Blogging about hope, raises the question of what do we do without it.  What happens when we hit-the-wall and abandon hope?  Is it true that hope is the last thing to die? 

When a person is given a life sentence, the final diagnosis that sets the stage for a permanent exit, and the exit doesn’t have to be loss of life, it can be the death of a relationship, a marriage or an idea.  What role does hope play?

One would hope that loved ones rally around and give encouraging messages.  Fight-the-fight, they will say, this is a battle you can win, they chorus, and don’t listen to negative thinkers, that’s what close friends and family say.  Yet, reality is all around and hope must somehow stay afloat on its own.   

Hope in blog asks us to give more than we get.  Maintaining the spirit of hope is not always accomplished.  When hope wanes, we must look inside our self.  Hope denies imposters and self-service.  Hope is pure and spiritual.

 If someone you know needs encouragement, needs the thread of hope sewn into their fading tapestry, then step up and take a position of the bearer of hope for others.  Perhaps in doing this we will be fortunate to have the same in return.  

Belly of the Whale carries the message of hope.  It does not take advantage of breast cancer or te roller coaster surrounding the highs and lows associated with dealing with it in our life or that of a loved one.  Belly of the Whale offers insight into the regaining of strength sometimes lost during cataclysmic events. 

In the spirit of the symbolism of the Resurrection, may we all retain the ability to rise above the darkness in our lives. 

Blog what you hear, what you see, and what you feel. 

“To give up hope is to give up life”.  Excerpted from Belly of the Whale, available for pre-order at: www.amazon.com and in stores, April 1, 2008.  

Linda Merlino, author, Belly of the Whale: http://www.lindamerlino.com 

Killer in Blog

 This is a blog about a criminal mind, the mind of a killer, the mind of a bottom-feeder. The killer in any story, that thoughtless lack-luster-ink-spot on the white-shirt-of-life can make or break the manuscript.  What is an author to do when the story needs a killer? 

Writing is a solitary sport.  The exercise of the mind to produce a winner of a novel puts the writer and author up against tremendous odds.  Toss in the killer factor, the need for that one character that is capable of murder and out from the author’s vault comes the criminal mind, the dark side of imagination.  Fiction is a wonderland of make believe.  The creation of people, places and events are endless, but the mix of good and evil must be tempered.  Too much of one and not enough of the other, can leave readers confused, puzzled and disappointed. 

To get inside a criminal mind an author has to walk in the killer’s shoes.  A writer must sink into the demented mind of the character being created.  Anyone who spends days in their pajamas with nothing but a tea stained cup for company knows the tribulations of character development.  The fictitious characters in your head become real.  They breath and sit next to you, they joke and poke fun at you all the while you rake your hands through your unwashed hair attempting to create a believable killer, one who stirs up just the right mix of fear and horror to carry your plot to its conclusion.  

Try, I mean just try to carry on a normal life.  Things like having dinner with your family, talking to a friend on the phone or going grocery shopping becomes incredibly difficult.  The ability to carry on a conversation or make decisions concerning real life is compromised.  Your killer is everywhere.  His actions, his thoughts, his clothes, every minute detail of that heinous crime he will commit, the one you will invent, hangs low and close and you can not function next to real people. 

You are a writer, you are a recluse, and you are the killer’s creator.  Your mind will not rest until the deed is done and the last word is written. Oh the trials and troubles of an author’s imagination.  No front page newspaper, no gossip rag headline can match a fictional bad guy.  A writer must write from his or her soul, and on the good days the writer turned author must get out of her jammies and sell books. 

Belly of the Whale will take you deep into the mind of a two killers.  One is cancer and the other is more deadly than the first. Blog what you what think, what you hear and what you see.

Linda Merlino, author, Belly of the Whalehttp://www.kunati.com/lindamerlino http://www.lindamerlino.com  

Hands that Blog

Helping hands, they can blog too.  These are hands you can not see, invisible hands if you want to call them that.  Hands that pat us on the head when we are good; push us when we think we can’t go any further, and move things around, so what is lost can be found.  Helping hands; what would we do without them? 

This blog is to say thank you to my invisible hands and yours too.  Many nights, with no hand to hold, I reached up and out and in my heart I held on tight to a guiding hand, my endless resource of support.  People, who believe in angels, know all about helping hands, even when I was little we were taught to believe in guardian angels. We all had one, we were told, hand-picked for each one of us.  The concept of that got skewed over the years, believing in the unknown was considered weird.  Like dreams that flood our nights, helping hands follow us during the day.

Think about it.

I am a writer, not a very organized on the surface kind of writer.  In my brain I have it all mapped out, but if you look at my desk you’d shake your head.  I write stuff down on post-it-notes and lay them out in a sort-of-rainbow.  Every once in awhile I add some of my collected information to my work book; a bit more linear than my stickies.  Since there is no real file, no A to Z, I sometimes have to sit back and say…”Where is that phone number?”  The helping hands are there, what I asked for will show itself, like my invisible secretary a phone number will be in an email, a name on someone’s lips, an address inside a book jacket, and those are just the little things.  It astounds me.

I can’t change how I navigate the planet.   I can try, but this old dog is short on new tricks.  Blogging is my latest “go fetch”.  Obedient to the wise publisher that has made my book dreams come true, I tap on my computer keys and blog to you about dreams, soul, sacred space and more.  These are observations of the heart, of the eyes, of the ears.  To blog about the invisible hand that blows a kiss, the one that brings us love, and the one we have known in the flesh that is now gone, is a way of bringing all of this together; a way of saying thank you to our angels, everyday.

Blog what you hear, think and see.

Linda Merlino, author, Belly of the Whale

preorder on amazon.com

A Hero in Blog

I want to blog about being a hero but how do you define a hero?  Can a hero be the subject of a blog?

The seed for my book came not from the idea of breast cancer but rather from the premise of what is a person really made of?  Not skin and bones, but that something which makes him or her different from another person.  Specifically I wondered about individuals who are challenged by what most of us take for granted; thinking, processing and verbalizing. 

The feat of heroism requires you to step outside yourself and all that matters in your life and take action without thought. To be a hero is to be selfless.  To be a hero takes courage, and so few of us meet that criteria; so few of us are capable of true heroism.

Our children need heroes, not the animated variety or the Hollywood version but real people.  Every man and woman who serves our country is a hero.  Whether we believe our presence in Iraq and Afghanistan is valid we must not fail in our loyalty to the soldiers.  No one asks to go to war, not intentionally, not until later when the scent of war is ingrained, and even then as Americans we need to fly our flag and thank those young men and women in uniform for their bravery.

Now what of other kinds of heroes, the ones that receive no medals, no recognition, what about them?  What about the teenager who bags your groceries and hauls your shopping cart into the grocery store?  Can he be a hero?  If we stereotype our heroes then the likely answer is, no.

In blogging about heroes I am asking you to go outside that square place we call a box.  Rethink how you view the people around you.  Do not take for granted someone who appears to be challenged for what we consider mundane tasks, and ordinary chores. Perhaps a hero lies beneath the surface.  We may never know, but we can wonder.

Belly of the Whale will introduce you to Willy Wulinsky.  He may not fit the description of a hero, but he will surprise you. To learn more: read Belly of the Whale, available April first everywhere you buy books and on amazon.com. 

Blog what you read, what you see, hear and write.

Linda Merlino,author, Belly of the Whale www.kunati.com/linda-merlino       

Blog in Sacred Space

This is a blog about space, not outer space or myspace, but sacred space.  The mere mention of this place rings holy, divine and reverential.  Beyond cyberspace is that place of our own, a physical spot on the planet where our soul is at peace.  To some it may be the beach, to others a mountain view, for a writer sacred space is essential, it is the very center of where thoughts begin.  

When I was younger and a single parent there was no such place.  Every inch of our small house was tagged, even my bedroom.  There were only so many corners four people could escape to and no place was off limits in our home.  If I put paper and pen on the dining room table, someone was bound to settle in next to me, if I thought to stay up, pillows fluffed behind my head, I would find myself next morning slumped over with pen still in my hand.  So my writing became portable, because we were portable, our lives a constant swirl of motion.  My sacred space was in my car, on the sidelines of a soccer game, on a rain-drenched field under an umbrella, on my lap at lunch, at five in the morning sitting on a kitchen stool and in motel rooms during championships from here to Phoenix. 

The stories in my head began in long hand on yellow legal pad without the benefit of a holy spot, the ever sought after, close-the-door-place I could flee to when the words bubbled over.   

Today I have an office in what used to be the playroom.  Surrounding me are snippets and quotations, kid photographs and a smiling Buddha.  This is the place, the space I blog about today, the spot I encourage each one of you to create and seek.  Your spirit is revived in your hallow place, your soul finds comfort, your mind rests and your creativity flows. 

Where is your scared space?  

Look around, walk the terrain, touch, smell and listen.  Move the furniture, pictures and lamps until it feels right.  Mark your place on the planet.  Deem it yours.  

Blog what you hear, what you see, what you feel.    

Linda Merlino, author, Belly of the Whale

www.kunati.com/linda-merlino 

preorder on amazon.com