We Are All Bostonians At Heart

I will keep this short, but I would be remiss if I didn't mention the happening of the past week. I was born and raised in Boston and it has and always will have a special place in my heart.
When I look back at the occurrences at the marathon and the events that followed, there are many images that flash through my mind.
Images of Needless Carnage
Images of Sadness
Images of Evil
Images of Heroes

But the image that will forever stay with me is one of civic pride and the good that is indwelled in the human heart and spirit.
From the moment that the bombings took place, the citizens of Boston and the surrounding communities reminded us how people are supposed to treat each other . . . with selflessness, caring, and unconditional love. We witnessed how law enforcement should work together. Local, state, federal, and the military all came together and worked as one to apprehend the suspects in an astoundingly short period of time.
We watched as a community wept for the victims, prayed for the departed, and celebrated the heroes by banding together. There were no riots in the streets, no accusatory speeches, and no ethnic slurs. There was only a sense of togetherness, pride, and a willingness to do whatever was necessary to help those in need and those in charge of the investigation.
As I bow my head in prayer for those who are no longer with us, for those who have a long road of recovery ahead of them, and to thank those who helped bring the responsible parties to justice, I do so as a Bostonian.
For today, we are all Bostonians!

J.M.

So Much For That New Year's Resolution

They come and go faster than the wind...or so it seems. I promised to post a new blog consistently in 2013.
Blew that one.
Oh, well, there is always next year.

The new year has started off at a blazing pace. I can't say I have been writing as much as I would have liked. I can't say I have been traveling as much as I would have liked (not at all). I can't even say I have had as much down time as I would have liked. All I can say is that I have been busy. Sometimes, that's all we can be. Sometimes, life gets in the way of what we want to do and all we have left is what we must do. As frustrating as that can be for all of us, it still be brings a sense of satisfaction. The satisifaction that whatever was needed to be done, we accomplished and whoever needed us to perform those tasks were able to accomplish their's because of us.
Wow, I'm babbling...

Okay, now for something different.

I am excited to tell you that "Cornerstone," the next book in the Phantom Squad saga is in editing and will be released in early summer. I am very excited about this book. It has a some new characters in it that I really enjoyed writing as well as most of the old ones. Soon, I will start posting exerpts for your to check out.
I have also been writing another book, "SIN," with all new characters and a much harder 'feel' to it. The characters, the language, and the plot line are much darker. The more of it I write, the more I'm feeling uncomfortable. I hope it's just a feeling of being out of my comfort zone, but I'm not sure. I'm still trying to figure it out.

Here's a new resolution. Don't give in to feelings of discomfort. Widen your comfort zone and start living in a bigger box.
I will have to give it a try.

Until next time,
J.M.

Is God to blame?

The nation and the world were devastated this week when a gunman opened fire and randomly killed adults and children at an elementary school in Connecticut. Since that day, we have all gone through and continue to go through our own mourning. In the last few days, I have heard many people ask, "Why would God let this happen?" and "If there was a God, this wouldn't happen," and "God did this as punishment."

This all made me think about God, the role He plays in our lives and more importantly it made me think of those who state that there is no God and who use situations like this as an example of why they believe the way they do. I hope you will indulge me as I try put into words my answer to these people.

I think we can all agree that every person has choices. I prefer to call this 'free will.' Everyday, every moment of every day, we make choices that change our lives in one way or another. These choices alter the rest of our lives in tiny ways or in grand ways, but each choice has its consequences. For those of us who believe in God and know Him to be a loving, forgiving God, we believe that He gave us free will: the right to choose between good and/or bad. Each decision we make can be catagorized as good or bad and alters our walk through this life.

Good brings with it love, truth, freedom, happiness, comfort, and ultimately--life.
Bad brings with it hate, lies, captivity, sadness, pain, and ultimately--death.

The choices that the young man who was responsible for this heinous act chose veered him away from the good, away from the Light, away from God and led him towards the bad, towards the Dark, towards Satan.

God never said that we would not have sadness, that there would not be death, but He did say that if we put our trust and our lives in His hands that He would walk us through the sadness and through death to happier times and ultimately to Eternal Life.

I don't have any answers to why this or any other tragedy happens. In the same way that I don't know why war must occur and that our soldiers must die, but I do believe that God cries harder than we do when tragedy and death strike. I do believe that God's heart breaks when He watches his creation make choices that cause them to walk down a path that leads them further from Him. And, I do believe that He waits with open arms to welcome us back when we ask for forgiveness, when we change the path we are walking on, and when we cry out to Him for mercy and grace and love and forgiveness.

I'm not trying to stand on a soapbox and preach. Trust me, I have as many faults as anyone and probably more than most, but I also have faith in a loving, forgiving God who forgives me of my indiscretions when I ask with sincerity and welcomes me into His arms when I have strayed like the prodigal son. We all, regardless of faith or religion, need to learn to not put our ultimate trust in ourselves or in others, but to put it in something, someone who is greater than we are. We need to put it in God.

My thoughts and prayers are with all those whose lives were touched by this and every other senseless death. I pray that those involved and those of us who look on in disbelief look towards God for comfort and that we all find a way to continue to see the good in people. I pray for the souls of the departed and that they are all in their heavenly home with God.
Amen

Holiday Season or Twilight Zone. Maybe both

We have entered that time of the year called the holiday season. I can picture Rod Sirling standing in his suit, hands folded in front of him with a dead pan expression saying, "Welcome to the holiday season." In the background, the theme from the Twilight Zone can be heard. For those of you too young to remember, the Twilight Zone was a weekly horror series on TV where there was always a twist at the end that you never expected (it had nothing to do with vampires or Team Edward). The holiday season is a twilight zone unto itself. How? Let's see. . .

From some time in the middle of November to just after the beginning of the following year, people change. Their normal hectic lives become even more hectic, yet their easily frustrated, grumpy personalities somehow become more tolerant.
As the weather becomes colder, people who are not "people persons" begin to smile and their frosty personalities start to thaw.
Those who are not generous during other times spend countless hours searching for just the right gift to buy people who they only see once a year. They may even give money to the homeless person on the corner who they swore at (under their breath) just a few weeks ago.

Why the change? I'm sure there are as many theories as there are people, but I like to think that during the time we call the holiday season, we become more human. We take a step back and realize how blessed we are. Starting with Thanksgiving, we give thanks for what we have. This enables us to want to help those less fortunate and somehow changes us. This thankfulness changes us and makes us want to reconnect with those people in our lives that we haven't had the time to see or talk to in the past year.
This feeling seems to grow as the December religious holidays draw near. We remember our values and that in turn makes us think about our parents and grandparents. Thoughts of how they conducted their lives makes us want to be a little bit better than we have been.
This seems to culminate with the celebration of the new year. But as the ball drops, the bubble bursts. We start to think about how we want to better ourselves in the coming year and we set New Year's resolutions. The problem is, no matter how noble these resolutions are, we usually choose those that are unreachable. As soon as we break the first resolution, the air squeezes out of the balloon and it, like our lives, flies about at breakneck speeds on a collision course with anything that gets in its way.

I love the holiday season. The time between Thanksgiving and New Year's Day, which in my life reaches its pinnacle at Christmas is a time of reflection, a time of thanks, a time of love and a time of blessed birth. This holiday season let's do what we have done in past seasons, but this year, when the ball drops, instead of resolutions, let's just try to keep the spirit alive.
Happy Thanksgiving,
J.M.

What Would You Do, If I Sang Out Of Tune. . .

I heard something the other day that made me think of a Beatles tune. You remember the song. It was on the Sergeant Pepper album and sung by Ringo. I think it was the first song after the intro.
The lyric went something like this:
"What would you do, If I sang out of tune, would you stand up and walk out on me?"
The song popped into my head when I read that some big name authors, including someone I had admired (notice the past tense), were writing their own reviews under false names. When this was first brought to my attention, I was dismayed. Why would good writers sink to such practices? Then, I went through denial. Maybe the person who broke the news got it wrong or was talking about the wrong person. Finally, I became angry. As an author, I know the highs and lows of the writing industry. One of the greatest highs is when someone reads your work, the work you have spent months (years) pouring your heart, soul, and sweat into and tells you and the world how much they liked it. In my frame of reference, to fake a review is similar to stealing someone's work. I don't care what excuse these writers gave for doing it; none would suffice.
So, we're they punished? Good question. I don't know the answer. I do know that they are still being asked to speak at prestigious writers' conferences. I do know that they are still being tauted as "best selling authors."
I know I am about to go off topic, but stick with me . . .Why is it that Lance Armstrong can pass over five hundred drug tests (he was even made to take one while his wife was in labor) and when he is found guilty of taking performance enhancing drugs by a shady board who used partial witnesses, he is stripped of every title he had ever won and was forced to give back his winnings, but these authors are not asked to give back their awards or give back their royalties.
Just a thought.
(New lyric)
"What would you do, if I faked my review, would you still read my books?"
I, for one, will no longer be reading these authors.
Until next time,
J.M.

Starting Fresh

I have often wondered why so many authors continue to write about the same characters with each new book. Truth be told, the characters become like family. You have so much to tell about them and you want to continue to share their stories with your readers. So it has been for me, I have written four books about the Phantom Squad: three novels and one novella. I am approximately half way finished with the rough draft of the squad's next adventure. I am passionate about it and feel it may be my best story line yet, but . . . new characters keep knocking at the door of my imagination. I have tried to ignore them, but they won't go away. I had to finally open the the door and let them in.
I have put the Phantom Squad aside for awhile and have begun to write a new story with all new characters.
It is with great excitement and some anxiety that I have begun to put pen to paper and fingers to key board to write their story. As with all my stories, I know where I want their story to begin and I have some idea of where I would like it to end, but I have no idea of how to get there. Only time will tell.
It is only a matter of time before Brent and Seven come banging on the door of my imagination and insist that I finish their story. I can only hope that all of the characters, new and old, can live synergistically in my imagination until I have a chance to finish both novels.
I will update you from time to time on the new characters and ask for your opinion.
Until then, keep reading and keep the door to your imagination open. You never know who might walk in.
J.M.

CURSED DAYS, chapter two

CHAPTER 2

 

Brent Venturi, the Ambassador and the deciding factor in a possible holy war was thirty-five thousand feet in the air. Having left the Vatican a mere three hours ago, Colonel Venturi, the Phantom Squad and the directorate of the SIA, (Strategic Intelligence Alliance), the world’s most covert intelligence agency, were on their way home for some well needed rest.

Only two weeks ago, Brent had almost lost his life while defeating The Omega Butcher indwelled with Satan’s spirit in a battle which had been predicted since the first century of our Lord.

The light above his seat glowed an incandescence that could only mean one thing—insomnia. The cabin of the SIA’s 707 was dark except for the one light. All others on the flight had found the peace that accompanied sleep. Too many thoughts buzzed Brent’s brain for him to relax. His eyelids grew heavy, but he fought the urge to close them. There was too much to think about, too many decisions to be made, too many lives depending on his decisions.

I used to think putting my life in God’s hands would make things simpler, he thought.

 

A slight grin materialized on his face. A face etched with lines not normally found on a 36 year-old. Then again, he was no normal 36 year-old. Brent was this generation’s Ambassador, the heir to a secret that had been kept since the time of Noah. Brent was also God’s chosen, the one who had to go up against Satan in a battle for man’s free will. . . and now this. Rubbing his eyes, he could almost feel the dark circles that rode the top of his cheek bones. His eyes ached with a dryness that came with lack of sleep and more stress than he knew what to do with.

From the outside, his life was one to be admired, one that others would want to emulate. But from where he sat—things were different.

 He looked about the cabin at those who were the closest to him, his family, some blood born, others love born, all God sent. Brent blindly reached beside him for his coffee cup. A sip of cold coffee made his facial expressions twist in pain. Why do we let Seven make the coffee? he thought. We hope that somehow, someday it will turn out different, but. . .  

He swallowed as he grandfather’s words came to mind. “The definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over again expecting a different result.”

Brent looked down at the dossier on his lap. He inhaled a deep breath, a breath that brought with it answers. Closing the folder, he reached up, shut off the light and tried not to think about the arguments to come. Twenty minutes later, exhaustion won the battle over consciousness and he fell into a fitful slumber.

 I will post chapter three next Friday, August 31st.

Please help spread the word' "Cursed Days" is being released on Tuesday, August 4th.

 

Until next week, keep reading and never give up on your dreams,

J.M.