Finally!

It's about time I got this link up! I now have my wordpress sight all set up so go check it out. It has some of my old posts from this blog and a new one about the trip I will be taking to Mexico =D

Little Writing 'Hood

Expansion

It's been to long. It's not that there hasn't been anything to write about (un-expected events and life lessons seems to be waiting around every corner these days) but because I have resonantly had some new ideas for my blog and have been trying to figure out how to make them work. I guess you could say I'm in the process of  expanding.
     Some of what I was wanting to do, in this expansion, I can't do on Blogger...or, I can't figure out how to do...which essentially is the same thing... Any way, a side from the fact that Wordpress and all it's possibilities are taking an immense amount of my time, I love it! So the plan is to move and remodel.
      I'll let you all know when the new blog is up and running. Hope y'all keep following me!

-Lorain

Snow Days...

Dear Texas weather forecasters, unless you just get satisfaction from dropping the word, snow, and seeing all of us southerners freak, then...you may want to rethink your careers. If your methods are the standard procedure then maybe I'll try my hand at predictions. How's this?

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Well Houston, we have a 60% chance of precipitation and with temperatures the way they've been we could be looking at *wait for it* snow! So all of you should defiantly shut down your business and close your schools, no one should be on the road if it's not an emergence. Actually just put a hold on your lives all together, I mean, we are talking about...snow!
     The bad weather should start later this evening so make sure you've done all your errand running by then. But be careful. Wouldn't want to get caught out in the snow!

Evening news: Houstonians, starting at midnight tonight, we are looking at getting 2-3 inches of snow! That's right you heard me, snow! Now don't panic, city counsel is all over the problem. Your best bet is to just stay indoors and defiantly off the roads.

Midnight report: I hope you told kids to set there alarms for a crazy early time. Something around 5:45 maybe? By 6 o'clock tomorrow morning they could be seeing there first snow(!) fall. Hope your not planning on going to work. Things could get ugly out there, and they could get ugly fast!

Early morning news: Good morning everyone and thanks for tuning in! Before you head off to work be sure to check your pipes. It sure was a cold one last night! And we won't be getting but 2 degrees above freezing all today, so make sure your kids bundle up for school-*instructions from off set* what? Schools are closed? O. Uuh *more instructions*-Sorry everyone, a few technical difficulties. Of course when I say bundle up I mean if it's absolutely necessary to step out doors. There seems to have been *checks out window* some freezing rain last night. Who knew it got cold enough for that in Texas? There are sure to be icy patches on the road so please stay off of them as much as possible, this is for your own safety.
     This has been your early morning news with Lorain Blackwell. Thanks for listening. Stay warm, stay safe and stay tuned. With as crazy  as weather has been this winter, I wouldn't even be surprised if, before it was over, we saw some snow!

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But I guess it's nice to have the world shut down every once in a while. So far I've managed to stay in my fuzzy pajama pants all day, I've started drinking a great new blend of coffee, I own a Snuggie and have some serious reading catch up I have  been meaning to do...so pretty sure I shouldn't complain. =)

Stay warm, stay safe and stay tuned ;)

-Lorain

Contest Entry

Allrighty, here it is. I won't get results till april, so be your own judge and tell me whatcha think.

P.S. I hate word limits!

Stuck In Traffic

Flynn Brewer un-wrapped a crudely packaged box. After shuffling through its contents he called to his colleagues to come look. Flynn watched them closely for a reaction. He nervously tugged on his ear and shoved his glasses up the bridge of his nose. After a moment the realization hit and one of them spoke up. “We need to get this to the police.” Flynn corrected,
     “We need to get this to the press.”

***

3 Months Earlier:

Lucy Ramo leaned her head against the airplane window. She smiled to herself. I did it! I’m on my way. She could barely contain her excitement. After months of pleading and bargaining with her boss he’d finally conceded. Starting so young in the business, Lucy described her climb up the industry ladder as more of a grapple. But this, this story could change everything! The opportunity was a journalist’s dream come true, and she intended to make the most of it.
     Lucy pulled a well-worn journal from her backpack and leaned back in her seat. It was going to be a long flight to Cambodia.

Coming through the terminals, Lucy was reminded how much she hated airports. When she traveled she wanted to feel the excitement of being in a new place but they all had the same feel to them. Any cultural touches were simply there for tourists and gave Lucy no insight on the people she was going to represent.

6 a.m. the next morning Lucy turned on her laptop and loaded e-mail. Her boss had already sent a work timeline. “8 a.m.: Skype into HQ for safety confirmation,” she read aloud. Well that only gives me 2 hours to do things my way.

Twenty minutes later Lucy was walking through the streets of Phnom Penh dressed as a working class Cambodian woman. A trade with the room service maid and purchase of a flimsy straw hat worn low over her eyes let her blend into the crowds. With a close look, her ethnicity would be obvious. Her big inquisitive blue eyes could tip off even the most unobservant viewer. But she didn’t speak the language so couldn’t see a reason for engaging anyone’s attention in the first place.
     Lucy was positive the news team back in New York would have a very a precise way for her to go about things and expect her to follow their plan to the letter. And that’s what made the time she had now feel so important to her. If she was going to accurately represent these people she had to have time to observe them unobtrusively. To watch them in their natural lifestyles…get a feel for them.
     After an hour of wandering, Lucy decided there was nothing more to see within walking distance of her hotel, and started back to video conference New York.

She didn’t remember her clothes until she was almost to her room. If anyone sees, me they’ll think I’m breaking in. The thought made her stop short and realize in dismay, she just might have to break in. Amidst the maids giggling and her own mischievous excitement, Lucy had completely forgotten to rescue her key card from the pocket of her own clothes. How was she going to explain this to the hotel manager; and more urgently, how was she supposed to get hold of anyone back home before they contacted Foreign Affairs? Not only that, this was her first time trusted with a big story; if she blew it, it could end her career! With that in mind, her only stipulation for this plan was that it kept her boss from knowing about her carelessness.

“What else could go wrong?” she asked herself walking away from the hotel. The boy behind the desk was unwilling to issue a new key without the manager’s consent. And as luck would have it the manager would not be in until evening. “Chill out,” she told herself. “This could be a lot worse.” She had managed to borrow a tourist’s laptop at an internet café and shoot an e-mail to Headquarters. She made it brief. All’s well…hotel mix-up. I’ll video when I’m settled.
    “Guess I have plenty of time to get a feel for these people,” she said mocking her morning endeavors.

Because she was now in a mood of skepticism, she didn’t waist the little money she carried on a taxi, and instead walked to the port area of Phnom Penh.

Hours later, as the sun was setting, Lucy started on her way back to the Hotel. The time at the port had done much to relax her and remind her that she actually liked her job. Now if only that manager will be helpful.
     Passing a window and catching her reflection, Lucy put the floppy hat back on her head and laughed. “I really could pass as a native.”
     At this time of day almost everyone was on the wharf and the streets she took were mostly empty. She was concentrating on how to explain the mixup to the manager and didn’t even notice anyone on the street, until she had a tarp thrown over her and was being shoved into the back of a van.
     The setting sun gave just enough light for Lucy to take in her surroundings. The two men in the front drove along as if nothing had happened. As quietly as possible she retrieved her journal from her bag. This doesn’t make sense. She wrote. If these are traffickers, how do they know I’m here? Is it really so important to them that my story doesn’t get out?
     The clothes! She realized. They don’t have any idea who I am.”

“So this is rural Cambodia” she muttered under her breath. The village buildings stood in two rows with a dirt road dividing them. The mountains in the background dashed all the hopes that had risen when she felt the van stop. Out here she would be lucky to find anyone who spoke English.
     They moved up the steps of a stilted house. It felt like it could collapse under their feet any second. The inside was no better and there were children everywhere. All of the kids were over five years old, and most of them were girls.
     A thin frazzled lady greeted them. Her neck was too long and her eyes too big for such a tiny head. She asked the men a question in a way that befit her overwhelmed appearance, and then led them into a back room.
     Lucy looked around her curiously. Her eyes met those of a boy, one of the few, who looked to be about 12. He moved closer and perched himself on a stool.
    “Are you American?” he asked.
     She started to answer him, then stopped: “Wait, you speak English?”
    “No.” he shook his head.
    “But you…oh, you speak American?”
    The boy’s face beamed “Yes! I’m the only one here that can,” he said, gesturing towards the room.
     Just then a woman and her four children walked in. She placed her hands on the shoulders of the oldest and gave her some kind of instruction. The two embraced, and then the mother turned away and stood by the door while the daughter, a girl of about fourteen, knelt down and hugged her little brothers and sister. The youngest started crying and it was obvious that the girl was choking back tears of her own. The mother, with a forced firmness, came over and grabbed the younger ones by the arms. She swiped up the money that had been sitting on the counter and headed out the door.
    “What was that about?” Lucy asked turning to the boy. But he had already moved on to investigate the new arrival. Lucy looked to the door the woman had just left through. No one’s holding me here.

    She caught sight of the woman up ahead and decided to follow her. Trying to run away entered her mind but she was curious and really had no idea which direction to run.
     The woman headed up a mountain road and Lucy followed. It was a long climb up to the tiny farmhouse. Lucy knew she was standing on the woman’s property and wondered how long it would take before she was noticed and ran off. The woman moved with her children to a shed that Lucy realized with shock had to be their home. It only had three walls; one of them was more of a flap. The roof was crudely patched and there was no furniture to be seen. The woman noticed Lucy and started rattling something off that she couldn’t understand.
     The woman continued with hand gestures that clearly said “shoo”
     Lucy grudgingly turned. As a writer, her first thought was naturally, how she could tell the story. But she couldn’t imagine expressing this pathetic scene in words.
  
  She looked back at the family and saw them sitting on the floor with small plates of rice. Her eyes lingered on the youngest of the children, a little girl. She was obviously very sick. Her figure was almost grotesque in its frailness. The two other children scarfed down there dinner, but she only stared at her plate, though she had to be starving. Looking at her surroundings, it was obvious to Lucy that the family could not afford medical attention.
     Lucy remembered the money on the counter.
     The mother shooed her on again, but she never did make eye contact. Before going, Lucy pulled out her journal and camera from the backpack she’d surprisingly been able to hold on to. She scribbled down some thoughts, though she knew her words were inadequate. Looking through the pictures she snapped, Lucy paused …This one is important! She resolved to hang on to the camera at all costs. No one would understand without the picture.
     Halfway down the mountain, the van met her. With yelling and shoving, she found herself once again in the
back of the van and on her way to the village.
     It was late when Lucy’s friend found her again.
    “You sure you’re American?” he asked.
    “Yes, why?” She was grateful for anyone to talk to.
    “Because I always wanted to meet one.”
    “How do you know how to speak…it?”
    “I went to school. I learned lots of things. I was very smart but then I had to come home because my mom’s husband died and she needed me.”
    “Do you live here?”
    “Yes, the lady here took me when my mom died. She says she’s going to sell me but no one wants to buy skinny boys.”
     Everything Lucy assumed was confirmed. Her and the boy talked long into the night. Only a couple of hours before dawn would break, the boy abruptly asked.
    “Well, do you want to escape?”
    “Escape? How?”
    “I know a way,” he said coolly. “A secret way; back to the big city!” The boy started to stand up and lead the way.
    “No,” she said, thinking of her journal and camera in the back of the van where the men slept. “No, I can’t go. But will you do something for me?”
    “What is it?”
    “It’s very important. I’m on a mission from America.” She had his attention. “In my backpack are secrets, secrets that I have to give to the people I work for. If I go with you now those secrets will be lost forever.”
    “We need a plan!”
    “Yeah.” Lucy paused to think. “When they load us all into the van, I want you to get in with us. As soon as you’re inside, put my backpack on your shoulders. Then just make sure you get kicked out.” Her mind was reeling now. “There’s a little bit of money in there, do you know how to mail a package?” He nodded. “Ok, use that money to mail my journal and my camera to…” she looked around her, “this address.” She scraped it into the wall.
    “What about you?” he asked with a maturity that surprised Lucy. She instantly mellowed.
    “They’ll find me.” She said as much to reassure herself as the boy. “But the story is more important. The cost of it getting out may be that I endure hardship but how many more will be forced to endure it if it doesn’t?” People might not want to hear. But then, that’s usually the case when it comes to the truth. That doesn’t mean we aren’t obligated to speak it, no matter what the costs.”
     Lucy knew she was putting a heavy burden on one boy’s shoulders, that she was leaving a lot up to fate. But no, fate was not involved. She believed God would see her and her story safely home. She had to believe. It was the only way she could make herself take this dangerous risk. Lucy also knew the kind of life she’d be entering. But she felt a kind of strength, derived from doing what she knew was right.

***

Front page of the New York Times:Recently, a journalist was sent to Cambodia to report on the trial of a suspected human trafficker. The job was given to a young Lucy Ramo. Her ability to capture the emotions around her and inspire her readers was the cause for the selection.

Ramo says in her journal, “while my original purpose was to raise awareness on modern day slavery, I find myself more sobered by the poverty and destitution.”

The victims of human trafficking are widespread. Some are taken by force, some are promised employment, and still others are sold by their own families.

You might wonder what circumstances would drive a mother to sell her own child. Ramo attempts to explain with a picture. She had meant to send many but she says, “Only one of these pictures matter. The one of the woman whose eyes clearly say ‘What else could I have done?’” In the background of the picture, you can see the figure of the woman’s sick and dying baby. The family obviously does not make enough money to pay for medical attention. Just hours before the picture was taken, Ramo witnessed the mother exchange an older daughter for an agreed sum of money. Ramo puts the pieces together and asks “What kind of world is it we live in that a mother must choose between two children?”


By a strange turn of events that she believed could not be coincidence, Ramo was kidnapped by human traffickers. We don’t know if we’ll ever hear from Lucy Ramo again but the last words she leaves in her journal for us are these: “My career struggle has always been a point of pride with me, but these peoples very survival is a struggle. Poverty is a problem around the world. We in America have the resources to help…I only pray we have the endurance to face the consequences that always come with truth and sacrifice.”

First edit: 12-26-10

Final edit: 12-31-10



A Toast to the New Year

"Every day is always fresh. With know mistakes in it." -Anne of Green Gables

I think that quote explains why I'm  always so in love with a new year! A new days is nice, but how about an entire year that is yet flawless?

2010 was a crazy year for me. Usually by the end of the year I'm going, "no way it's over already?" and usually as I get older time seems to speed up. But so much took place in the last 12 months, that it's hard to imagine it all could have happened in such a short span of time.
     My oldest sister was engaged and married. I got my license and opened my first bank account. Started my senior year. Was baptized....those are only the first physical things that come to mind, if you look at the area of writing, I could say, wrote my first 2 songs, started and managed a blog ;), finished a short story that I would like to call my finest work, entered a writing contest (with a different short story), finished 2 journals (I usually only go through 1) and made headway on the book I'll eventually finish. As far as spiritually, I think I'm a different person. It's weird and amazing to look back because all the time the changes were taking place I was clueless. But looking at the relationship I had with God at the start of last year and looking at what we have now is something next to unreal! If I could match that growth throughout this year and accomplish nothing else, I could call the year a success.
     That's actually a hard thought for me to wrap my mind around. I want so much from this year...and I'm gonna get so much I'm not sure I'm ready for. It's crazy to think that I'll be a college student before this year is over. An adult...how did I not see this coming?
     I'm happy to say though, that I'm actually excited about the future. For the longest time I was only able to see the things I was going to miss and the things I was unsure of. But I asked God for a glimpse of my future, for inspiration and excitement about all the things he has in store for me. Now I'm chomping at the bit over here!
      In 2010 I also learned that I loved God. It sounds so strange because I've been a christian my whole life but I always took that part for granted. I believed that he sent his son to die for me, so it makes logical sense that he loves me. But outside of logic and reason, I love him! and I'm sure of his love for me...Let me just say, you can't beat that feeling! Not like there haven't been times since then that I've felt distant from God. It's not a fireworks feeling for me. It's just there as steady knowledge that I can always fall back on.

Thanks for reading my ramblings! Happy New Year =)

-Lorain
  

Teaser Trailer

I made a mistake yesterday. I'm entering into a short story contest and since my first attempt went 3000 words over the ruled maximum, I'm starting from scratch with less then 2 weeks to complete it. oops. But that was only my first mistake. The one I was referring to is, when trying to decide on a new topic, I told myself their was only 2 things I needed to worry about. First that it fit the theme (endurance) and, that it was centered around a topic I was already very familiar with, since I wouldn't have much time for research. ...I obeyed my first rule? And hey, research is fun. The important thing is, I have my story! One day of skipped school, hours of Internet surfing and 3 library books later, I have my story =)

Since the story has to be really short, I'll be posting it when it's finished (assuming it reaches acceptability) So for a sampling of my fiction work, check back in January. The contest deadline is the 31st so It should be up soon after that.

Thanks for reading!

-Lorain =]

The hand your delt

I know I only posted once last month. I was trying to get one up in that last week of November. I actually tried several times but the post wouldn't pull together. Hopefully tonight it will!

For a couple weeks now I've been working on a story I might be entering in a short story contest that's coming up. The story has come together surprisingly easily and the characters have felt allot more real then I thought would be possible in under 3000 words.

At the start of the story you meet a little girl in Africa who has just lost her mom and will now be placed in an orphanage along with her infant brother. Mean while in America a sixteen year old girl has just found out she's pregnant. She's under extreme pressure and hasn't heard from her boyfriend since the night they hooked up. A well to do girlfriend counsels her, to not tell anyone and have the abortion. The idea appeals to the distraught girl, if for no other reason then that way it's over and she no longer has to deal with it. But it's easier said then done and her background rebukes the idea. In a lame attempt to come up with another solution she brings up that her and her boyfriend weren't total strangers. Maybe he deserved to know. The girlfriend interrupts by saying

"Beth! You need to stop thinking about Eric. You need to think about yourself now. What will happen if you don’t do this?"

First of all how odd that my own fictional character could teach me something...but there it is. "You need to think about yourself now". It's a common phrase of counsel. Maybe even more commonly put is "You need to do what's best for yourself."

I can only assume that this line of thinking comes from the common fascination with psychology. I'm not apposed to psychology as a rule but there does seem to be a flaw in the philosophy of many practicing it. I feel slightly hypocritical writing this having an interest myself in the subjects sociology and behavioral science, but I think the therapy part of it is where we go to far...or at least can go to far. Granted people have real pain and have experienced things that make the rest of there lives difficult but that doesn't give them an excuse. Actually it does give them excuse and that's what the problem is. And even that isn't much of a problem if you leave God out of it. But lately I've been forced to consider this horrifying thought. What if Jesus had done what was best for himself?

I truly believe to be past this time in my life but there was a point not to long ago where things were not easy and I had a heavy sense of superiority toward almost everyone around me. Thankfully I wasn't familiar with this line of thinking at that time. Looking back it's scary to think where I could have gone if I'd had someone telling me to do what's best for myself; because I genuinely felt that things were un-fairly difficult. In being completely honest with myself I can see that I was in a vulnerable situation, and could have easily turned down a bad path. I can only thank God for seeing me through it all.

All this brings to me a huge sense of concern and protectiveness for anyone feeling wronged. I don't know how many times I have heard one of my friends proudly tell me, they've forgiven there parents. This is a hard thing to hear because forgiveness is necessary and the person in question is feeling so good about the difficult step they've just taken; but maybe they have now just created a feeling of superiority to there parent. Not a healthy place to be.

With my new understanding of all this, I hope to be able to be able to truly help some people through tough situations and not just offer them the guidance they can get from facebook flair or Internet quizzes. the difficulty is, I'm also learning it's always dangerous ground to be offering guidance. But just as telling someone to take care of themselves pulls away from Christ the answer to there problem is to pull them towards him.

The gift of compassion that God gives us sometimes trips me up. I want to help everyone and try and fix there problems. The problem is I'm inadequate. The solution, I'm learning, is to not try and give people healing, but to lead them to the healer. To not teach, but to lead others to my Rabbi. To not let myself get convinced that my love is enough for someone lonely but to show them the all fulfilling love of Christ!

Just thought I'd share the thought! Love,

-Lorain

Lie: "Sometimes you have to do what's best for yourself"
Truth: Instead you can...Cast your burdens upon the lord and he will sustain you -psalms 55:22