Solutions for the Over Stimulated Muse
I read because I write, and I write because I read. I could spend 24 hours a day 7 days a week at the local library and never suffer a moment of boredom. As a matter of fact, I walk into the library almost daily and my inner muse still jumps in the air, kicking her heels together like Dorothy in the “Wizard of Oz.” Truth be told, she knows if I am not fascinated and motivated by the ideas of others, She Will Die.
The problem is that although I am an avid reader, I frequently start more books than I finish. It’s not that the books don’t hold my interest because usually these are detail oriented, good books. The dilemma occurs because my mind never rests. It’s constantly conjuring up the next “big idea.” Therefore, I feel compelled to learn all I can prior to leaving this life.
I don’t want the pangs of the what if’s and the had I of known’s looming in the air long after I’m gone. I don’t want the unanswered questions in the next life to be caused by a lack of preparation from this life. Consequently, the urgency to find “some of the answers” is constant. Equivalent to that of a child that keeps going afraid of napping because of the innate fear of “missing something.” Therefore every book on the shelf in the library is a resource and looks like one I should read. That’s the one that possesses the knowledge I’m lacking. Never mind the fact that I have 29 other books stacked neatly in a pile waiting to be read. I need to prioritize. I need quick solutions. Otherwise, I will suffer the loss of having an abundance of well intended projects floathing around in my head, accomplishing nothing. Success is never gained by well intentions.
Desperation has prompted me to stay focused and to find some solutions. Here are some ideas I have come up with so that not every book in the library is screaming, “pick me”, causing my success rate to be mandated by well intentions. One is I joined two book clubs. Not because I do everything in excess but because both of the clubs serve different purposes. In the first group I joined we read more urban fiction. Not only does this club dicatate the books I read, it gives me a deadline for reading the books so I am more apt to read it’s entirety. During the monthly meetings I listen to and share ideas with other members. The second book club is a group of conservative, retired teachers. They choose books they feel have strong literary value. I read the same book so that I am exposed to a variety of genres. Because of work, I am unable to attend the meeting but I read the same books and finish the book prior to their monthly meeting. Again, this allows me to read a book from cover to cover. Outside of the two books I read monthly I have decided to read two other books so that I am reading a book a week. I will write weekly reviews on every book. I will post these reviews on my blog. The book reviews allow me to read, to write and to network with other authors. I will continue to monitor my progress while I hope that these solutions tame and focus my over stimulated muse.
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In the grand scheme of things faith has caused me to realize that there has to be something greater out there. What I have come to discover is that for every whine that my son utters, for every innocent child who dies and for every single parent household there has to be a power greater who calls the shots. There has to be something that understands the baby’s cries of a crack addicted mother. Something that keeps the child alive although he hasn’t eaten in three days because his mother is busy chasing her next high. There has to be something that safely allows the 7 year old to cross the street to steal dinner for his younger siblings because his mother has sold her food stamps to the dope man for a shot of heroine. There has to be something that allows the single father to continue raising his teenage daughter to the best of his ability although he has given up on pulling her mother from the dope man’s house where she continues to sell her mind, body and soul to the dope man for her next fix. There has to be something better that reaches into the mind of the teenage dancer that allows her to grow up to live a semi productive normal life.After tripping on acid for so many times wondering if this is the actual tripp that will take you into the zone that you know only the mighty hand of God can pull you out of. There has to be something that only taints your mind instead of demolishing your life. When thinking back you realize that by all rites you should have been dead. There has to be something that tells you when you have sunken to playing handball against the sidewalk that you can still rise above your obstacles. The has to be something that tells the recovering alcoholic or addict who wakes up with night sweats, sweating one minute and freezing the next that this too shall pass. Just hold on for one more day without a drink, or a pill, a shot or a hit. Then has to be something that when a single mother is lying on the kitchen floor with a needle in her arm, a bottle in her mouth and a hit of acid on her tongue and she’s cursing something to take her away from this miserable life. And, the only temporary relief that she has is when her three year old child comes to the floor. He asks his mother for something to eat. She has to temporarily dry her tears, stand on her feet and fix her son breakfast, lunch or dinner. Upon hearing the child’s voice she realizes that although life has beat the hell out of her she has to stand and pretend as if she were the mother that her son deserves. She loves her drugs and only later, in a moment of clarity does she realize that it was only temporary guilt that allowed her to stand on her feet, and to walk though the empty beer cans making her way to the kitchen sink to find a pan to fix her son something to eat. Later in life she wonders where did that wave of emotion come from that allowed her to feel the guilt after so many years of feeling only numbness? Then she comes to her senses and realizes only in the grand scheme of things is there something better out there. That something must be the loving hand of a powerful, awesome and forgiving God….. Only in the grand scheme of the things can one truly understand the love that God has for all of his wavering children. Only in the grand scheme of things does one realize the true purpose of life is to form a personal relationship with a God to call your own.
Full of fear
Protected by the armour of God
A direct connect, no more intercession
Frozen from complacency
Anxiety tramples elevation
Hell is a high price to pay for fearful disobedience.
For Immediate Release
What happens when a preacher’s life is shattered by the rape of his wife but his love for her is stronger than the drugs and deceptions she uses as coping mechanisms?
Tralisa McNeal answers these questions in her novel Love Me Sane. (356 pp.. $17)
https://www.createspace.com/3732266 a story of love and redemption.
Mary Campagna the author of Send a White Rose states that this is not a book for the fainted heart.
Love Me Sane gives a first hand account of issues such as: abuse, addiction, infidelity, love, marriage, miscarriage, and redemption. The experiences as well as the clear voice of the protagonist will certainly draw the reader into the world of the victim.
Ms. McNeal states “I started writing the story and Stacey Jones finished it.”
Tralisa McNeal is currently pursuing writing as a career. She has both a BS Degree in Education and a BA Degree in Communication from Indiana University.