Posts filed under ‘Walt Trizna’

OPINIONS & OBSERVATIONS

NOTE TO A YOUNG WRITER

I’m an old writer. Let’s make that a seasoned writer. In the past I was an enthusiastic writer but with age the energy has waned. The ideas still come but many go no further. Although a few produce unpublished stories.
In bygone days I wrote nonstop, every chance I had. I wrote, on the job.. I published short stories and a novel. These days the desire to write is there, but the energy is not.
As I said before one factor, which continues undeterred, are the ideas for future projects. I jot down ideas – short stories and projects that lose their way in a lifetime of books and the debris of long forgotten projects.
What I want to convey with this piece is a realization, from personal experience. I was shocked as the length of my life increased and how I changed.
I find that in youth you will have the constant desire to write. The day job is just a way to pay the bills. You will have the drive to create but not enough time to feed that hunger. In old age you will have the time but lack the energy to complete projects and begin new ones. I have two novels requiring editing and come across short stores I don’t remember writing. Now retired with plenty of time when I think about that needs to be done, I think that I’ll do that tomorrow. But as you age, that tomorrow becomes less and less a guarantee.
I say to you young writers take advantage of your youth, your energy to create, to develop your craft.
You may see these words of and old man having little value. But time will show you I’m not far from wrong.

May 11, 2019 at 10:40 pm Leave a comment

A FREE STORY

Here is a free story. It is free for I cannot think of anyone who would publish it, except me.
You may consider the story not done. That is intentional. That is to give the reader an opportunity
to draw their own conclusions as to what Joe experienced.
If you read this, let me know what your conclusions are.
BEYOND DEATH

Joe Palmer was just your ordinary guy. In his mid-forties, married with two boys ages five and eight. He was happy with his family, he always wanted sons. When he first met his wife Megan, he could not believe he even had a chance to talk to her. Rich black hair, blue eyes and a figure that turned men’s heads. To his surprise they began a conversation, a courtship and married. When he was honest with himself, when they were first married, he considered Megan a trophy wife. But as he grew to know her as more than a possession, and as a person, his love grew and the term trophy wife disappeared. The boys helped strengthen the marriage and everything was fine, until that night.
* * *
Megan was cooking the evening’s dinner, and realized she did not have an ingredient essential for the recipe, mozzarella cheese. Joe was sitting in the family room and reading the newspaper, his usual ritual this time of day. His wrinkled brow told her he was reading a political story. She thought, This should give him a break.
“Joe,” Megan said, “would you mind running to the store for me? I need some mozzarella cheese for tonight’s dinner. Without it, it just wouldn’t be the same. Megan glanced out the window and added, “If you’re going you better get your butt in gear. Grey clouds are building. Better take an umbrella.”
Joe replied, “Okay Meg, I’ll get the cheese.’ He knew the dish Megan was making and it was one of his favorites. The store was only two blocks away and even with the threat of a storm he decided to walk. Beginning to feel his age, he walked whenever he could.
He made it to the store, purchased the cheese and as he walked out the door heavy rain drops began splattering the sidewalk. Grateful for his umbrella, he raised it and set out for home.
And then it happened.
Joe’s neighborhood was a new development. Devoid of mature trees. Only saplings lined the streets. Also, the terrain was extremely flat. He lived in Kansas and the highest point in the area was probably a mound created by a child in a sandbox.
Lightning began flashing the like of which he had never seen. With only a block to go, gripping his umbrella with its metal tip, he took a step into the water filled gutter. That was when his life ended. Joe felt a searing pain. He had been struck by lightning.
Once the pain subsided, he felt at peace. A peace he had never before experienced. Joe felt he was floating, and looking down he could see his still smoking and contorted body. But what was looking down? Was it his mind or his soul, vaguely remembering this phenomenon had been duplicated in the lab. But this was not a lab experiment. This was the reality of death. Ahead of him appeared the legendary light drawing him. Others had reported this same light, but none had gone beyond. He was certain that was his destination. What would he find? Would it be an emptiness, a void? Or would he morph into something like the celestial fetus found at the end of the movie 2001? Ready to take the next step in a wonderous adventure, a journey beyond imagination.
Wondering what was taking Joe so long to return, Megan went looking for him. She found Joe’s inert bony on the ground, half in the gutter and half on the sidewalk. She cried hysterically over her lost husband and the prospect of a future without him.
The funeral was somber for such a young man taken from life, with plans and dreams left unfulfilled. His boys cried. Megan was close to hysterics as the coffin was lowered with all that remained of Joe Palmer.
** *
The event is still unexplained and remains so to this day. Two weeks later at the very spot, at the very time of Joe’s death, he reappeared. To say Joe was confused was an understatement. Somehow a mistake in the time-space continuum or a tear in some property of physics took place. Joe’s return was an event beyond comprehension.

The only course Joe could think of was to go home. He tried the door to the house. It was locked. Using the key under the mat, he opened the door and heard voices. He quietly followed the voices into the kitchen. Not knowing how to announce his presence, without too much shock to his family, he simply said, “Hi Meg.”
He instantly realized his greeting was a mistake. But what else could he do? For Megan turned around, saw Joe, and instantly dropped to the floor, and as hard as Joe tried, unable to be revived. He dialed 911 and within minutes he could hear sirens. As the sound came closer it was blaring, then sudden silence. Joe ran and opened the front door.
The EMTs tended to Megan and in ten minutes she began to come around. Confused, as you might expect, it took time for Megan to focus on what she had just experienced. When she looked and saw Joe, she nearly passed out again, but she held on. The EMTs left and Joe and Megan embraced. Megan had endless questions, but not as many as Joe.

* * *
Joe was not a religious man. Megan was Baptist and attended services with her boys most Sundays. On occasion, Joe would go too, when he planned to take the family out for breakfast. He respected the Baptist minister, Rev. Ruben, after hearing some of his sermons. But now he needed answers scientists could not provide so he sought out someone to explain with whom he could discuss his return. Since his reappearance Joe had not left the house. If anyone saw him, what would they think? Megan called Rev. Ruben saying she had a friend who needed counseling. An appointment was made.
Joe donned a wig of black hair over his almost completely bald head and a hoody. obscuring his face. Megan then drove Joe to the church. Joe presented himself to the pastor with as little shock as possible.
Rev. Ruben seemed to recognize his visitor. But why? He had never seen this man before. Ruben motioned for his visitor to take a seat. But first Joe removed his wig and Rev. Ruben, who was standing collapsed into his chair, “I buried you!”

Joe responded, “Yes reverend, but here I am. I do not know how or why, but here I am.” In any other case small-talk would have followed eventually approaching the subject of the visit, but this was not the case for small-talk.

The two men talked for hours and when they were done both realized this conversation was far from over. Rev. Ruben said, “Joe, I have no control over you. But if the public learns what you experienced it will alter every religion in the world. Please, please, please keep this knowledge hidden. But both men knew the world was owed the story of Joe’s experience.

 

May 3, 2019 at 7:25 pm Leave a comment

TRANSITIONS

This blog will morph to a direction I had not expected it to go. With the tumbling of respect the world has on our country’s value due to current conditions of decisions recently made by our government, something must be said by all those who recognize our decline. The value of our country is facing a challenge of existence. I still want to write articles to assist writers, but I must also address what is happening to this country.
When you cannot rely on our president to tell the truth, when all around him find the norm is to lie, I cannot help but think we are in a downfall.
The rant today is ‘false news’. But the reality today the only place I find false news is in the local news. In the rush to get the information out first they will distribute what little the know no matter how accurate.
So false news does exist in the quest to be first. But the argument today about false national news is an effort to conceal the truth.

April 18, 2019 at 11:19 pm Leave a comment

POEMS & FLEETING THOUGHTS

TRAGEDY AND GREED

Planes crash,

People die,

And industry

Gets slapped

On the wrist.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

March 30, 2019 at 8:05 pm 1 comment

POEMS & FLEETING THOUGHTS

OUR FATE

 

We are nothing but a life-form created to appreciate that life, appreciate all life.

We have failed.

Through ignorance and greed, we have chosen profit before compassion.

destroying our world without concern for the implications.

Better luck next time.

 

October 17, 2018 at 10:28 pm Leave a comment

The three elements of success — Cristian Mihai

There are three elements to becoming successful in any given area. Motivation: I also like to call it willpower. You simply want to get from point A to point B. You want it. You are driven. You are willing to go the distance.

via The three elements of success — Cristian Mihai

This huckster had been begging for money for years.

September 24, 2018 at 10:22 pm Leave a comment

POEMS & FLEETING THOUGHTS

VALUE

When you can buy
Anything you desire
Those possessions
No longer have
Value.

September 18, 2018 at 10:28 pm 1 comment

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