A Time To Be Thankful!

                                            Happy Thanksgiving

Thanksgiving is a time to be thankful.

To share with others the true joy of being thankful. 

It is a time to be grateful to God, our creator and 

sustainer of life. The one who loves us with an 

unconditional love now, and forever. Our God, 

who sees the good in us and guides us on our 

journey, leading us to Him. We thank Him for 

His bountifulness to us so we in turn can share 

with others. May each and every day, draw us 

closer to Him so others will see Christ in us. 

Let us share our Lord and His love with them. 

Amen. 

Susan Reichert

The Story behind the Story of In Black and White (Part 2)

MaryAnn Diorio     @DrMaryAnnDiorio

To refresh your memory from Part 1 of MaryAnn Diorio's post she said, "His words struck my soul like a nuclear bomb. For the first time in my life, I was speechless. Never had I experienced prejudice on a personal level. And it stung!"

Part 2

Back then, legal options were few for rebuttal. So, I took my degrees and ended up accepting a job stuffing envelope at a local library.

And I forgave the superintendent.

I began to have a new appreciation for African-Americans and for the discrimination they had suffered. Unbeknown to me, God was preparing me to write In Black and White many years later.

Time passed. I had children, and those children grew up. Then, my older daughter announced that she and her husband were adopting a baby. A black baby! My heart leapt with joy!  Shortly thereafter, my daughter placed a beautiful African-American baby in my arms, and my heart was stolen forever!

The Story behind the Story of In Black and White (Part 1)

MaryAnn Diorio    @DrMaryAnnDiorio

A few months ago, I published my fourth and latest novel, titled In Black and White. It is an interracial love story between a white woman and a black man, set in 1950s America and Ghana, a period of intense racial prejudice in both countries.

Interestingly, I got the idea for this story way back in the early 90s. Although I started writing the novel at that time, I didn't get very far with it because the timing wasn't right. Somehow, I knew, on a gut level, that this story would have to wait to be written. It was a case of my not being ready psychologically, professionally, and, most of all, spiritually to write this story. It was also a case of God's timing. God had a work to do in me before this story could be born. It was neither my time, nor His.

I grew up in the 1950s, the time period during which In Black and White takes place. I lived about 30 miles from Levittown, Pennsylvania, an all-white suburban community that made national headlines because of racial discrimination against a black family that had moved into the community. (An insightful, heart-wrenching documentary titled "Crisis in Levittown" was made of this incident. For those of you who are interested in viewing it, here is the link to the film: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xXQQ9o3R-Rc).

Prejudice was in the air back then. It was common to hear unkind talk about "colored people" who moved into neighborhoods and caused property values to plummet and crime to soar. Strangely—and thankfully--those comments did not penetrate my soul, as my best childhood friend was a black girl who lived on my street.

Growing up with a close black friend taught me much about people and about life. I learned that my friend and I were very much alike. We both experienced the emotions of life in much the same way. We both worried about tests at school. We both feared the gnarly old lady who lived in the rickety house on our street. We both had great fun visiting the ice cream shop on the corner at the top of the hill. Except for our skin color, we were two normal kids trying to understand the confusing messages about "white' and "colored" that came from some grownups in the world around us.

The years transpired. I went to college, earned my bachelor's degree, and then went on to earn a graduate degree. I also married a wonderful man to whom I have been married for 50 blessed years.

Prejudice reared its ugly head again when I applied for a teaching job in a prominent school district in a major mid-western city. When I appeared for my interview with the superintendent of the school district, he took one look at me and at my name (I am an olive-skinned Italian) and gruffly said, "Go back to your own people!" No consideration of my educational credentials, my teaching experience. Nothing.

His words struck my soul like a nuclear bomb. For the first time in my life, I was speechless. Never had I experienced prejudice on a personal level. And it stung! (Read Part 2 - March 25)

I never planned to be a writer. When I was a teenager, the thought of studying journalism crossed my mind but left quickly when I walked into my first French class. The language mesmerized me, hooked me, and consumed the next 15 years of my life as I went on to earn the PhD in French. I was all set for a career as a university professor.

But God had other plans. Shortly after I celebrated my 30th birthday, I began having this unusual desire to write. It seemed to come from nowhere. No matter how hard I try, I could not shake it. Finally, I went to the Lord and asked, “Is this desire from You? If it is, increase it. But if it isn’t, take it away because it’s becoming an obsession.”
You’ve probably guessed the answer by now. The desire increased. Even then, however, I had to be sure. So I asked God to give me a sign that He was calling me to write for Him.
He did.Through a fascinating series of events–which I won’t go into here (This is the short version, remember? :)), I ended up getting a poem of mine published in The Saturday Evening Post. Now, if you know anything about the publishing industry, for an unknown like me getting published in The Saturday Evening Post is the next closest thing to winning the Olympics when you haven’t even trained! www.maryanndiorio.com/book-table

The Power of Words Precisely Chosen

By Rose Chandler Johnson

I confess my love affair with language and along with that my reverence for the written word. You might say, it’s part and parcel with the gift. As a writer, my challenge is to choose words—the precise words—that contribute to the creation of the fictional world of the story. Words are the writer’s modeling clay. Like brush strokes to an artist, words contribute to the overall effect, moving and enlightening the reader. As a Southern writer, my words not only convey meaning, they also convey culture, atmosphere, and a sense of place. So, to my way of thinking, the critical element of word choice can’t be overstated.

Proverbs tells us that a word fitly spoken is like apples of gold in pictures of silver. I will go so far to say that a word aptly written produces those precious word pictures as well. In order to carefully construct the world of the story, the writer must choose words on purpose to craft phrases that perfectly recreate the elements of earth, sky, water, and space so precisely that readers are transported there. The writer fashions from words the heart and soul of fictional folks. He breaths into them the breath of life, and characters live on the pages and in readers’ minds.

You can’t tell me that Cathy and Heathcliff never lived. And loved. Nor that the old man in the sea never caught the marlin. I’m pretty sure I was there on the dirt with Scarlet when she vowed to never be hungry again. These characters lived for Bronte, and Hemingway, and Mitchell before they came to life for you and me. By the power of words precisely chosen.

Writers chose words to convey a particular meaning. If you’ll bear with me a moment, I’ll share an example. In a short story I wrote, I turned a phrase over and over in my mind until I shaped the meaning I wanted to convey.

Her focus was on life. Hers was a broad, general view.

Her focus was on living. She was a bit egocentric.

Her focus was on the living. This statement implies an outward focus, which was what I had in mind. One word changes the sense of the sentence. Subtle, perhaps, but part of the story elements that enlighten the reader. A writer must respect the power of the written word to accomplish his creative task.

What the reader senses from the words will strike an image on his impressionable mind and resonate in his heart. To check the story’s pulse, read it aloud. Does it come to life? If so, you have experienced the power of words precisely chosen.

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Rose Chandler Johnson is known for her heartwarming, inspirational writing. In addition to works of sweet contemporary fiction, her devotional journal, God, Me, and Sweet Iced Tea: Experiencing God in the Midst of Everyday Moments won the Georgia Author of the Year Finalist Award in 2014. In her novels, Rose brings to life fascinating characters with compelling relationships embracing family, community, and faith. In distinctive southern settings, Rose creates memorable stories that will stir your heart. Readers often say her writing warms the soul as it reaffirms belief in love and wholesome goodness. Don’t be surprised if you sigh with pleasure as you savor the final pages of her stories. Rose has lived in a suburb of Augusta, GA for thirty plus years. Before retiring from Georgia’s school system, she taught English, French, and ESOL. Currently, she is an English instructor at a community college. In addition to reading and writing, Rose enjoys cooking, sewing, gardening, and spending time with her six children and her beautiful grandchildren. Connect with her on her Author page: https://amzn.to/2tVXCj2 Follow her on BookBub: bit.ly/2CezzAx  Twitter: www.twitter.com/rechanjo  Pinterest: https://pinterest.com/rosecjohnson/boards/  Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/rosechandlerjohnsonauthor   Devotional blog: www.writemomentswithgod.blogspot.com

And What’s So Wrong with Being Personal Anyway?

By Rose Johnson

Remember that line from “You’ve Got Mail?”  Kathleen Kelly, played by Meg Ryan, is responding to Joe Fox’s (Tom Hanks) assertion that it’s not personal, it’s business.

“What is that supposed to mean?” said Kathleen Kelly. “I am so sick of that. All that means is that it wasn't personal to you. But it was personal to me.  It's “personal” to a lot of people. And what's so wrong with being personal, anyway?

“Uh, nothing,” said Joe Fox.

“Whatever else anything is, it ought to begin by being personal.”

I thought about that statement, and how it might apply to writing, when the first two reviews for my devotional journal, God,Me, & Sweet Iced Tea, noted that my writing was “personal” and “relevant.” After some reflection, I decided that perhaps those are qualities which draw us into any story.  Someone puts into words a story which breaks into our lives, grips our imaginations, touches our hearts, and thus, resonates in our souls.

I know I love those moments of clarity and courage when the written word perfectly communicates something inside of me that I’ve felt but been unable to articulate. I think everyone loves those “yes, yes, I know what you mean” moments.  When a message connects with that common thread in us, in reality it is a universal theme which ties us all together.  We can take what we need from it, draw strength, find peace, encouragement, and, most of all, validation. By making my writing personal, I make it uniquely mine, yet universally human.

In fiction writing, part of the “personal” is through word choice and voice.  As I perfect my style, I learn to be true to myself.  I must let my words be my words.  I must string them together like I would string them together in real life. 

Eva Marie Everson commented on a novel I’m writing.  “I love your voice,” she said.  But as she got further into the novel, she halted at a scene and said, “What have you done here?  You’ve lost your voice.”  And she didn’t mean laryngitis. I had to rewrite and find my voice again. The personal needs to ring true in order for the reader to connect.

As a Southern girl, when I read something authentically southern, like Eva Marie Everson’s Waiting for Sunrise, or Rick Bragg’s All Over But the Shoutin’, I feel like I’m home.  For me, it’s like hearing the sound of a train’s whistle.  Growing up by the railroad tracks, that sound is indelibly impressed upon my soul.  Even now, when I hear the train, I close my eyes and I’m back on the screened porch, sipping sweet iced tea with Mama and Daddy, sitting in the front porch swing.  That sound has the power to conjure up my childhood, to transport me to a different time and place.  Words have that power too when they are personal to us.

And what’s so wrong with that anyway?

Uh, nothing at all. 

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Rose Chandler Johnson’s devotional journal, God, Me, and Sweet Iced Tea:Finding God in the Midst of Everyday Moments was released in June 2013.  Her devotions, poems, and articles have appeared in numerous Christian publications. She enjoys writing for her popular blog, Write Moments with God, and engaging with its readers.  Rose enjoys baking, gardening, French, and spending time with her large family.  She is the mother of six children. Blog: http://www.writemomentswithgod.blogspot.com 

Twitter: https://twitter.com/rechanjo  

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/rose.c.johnson