A New Discovery

The wonderful thing about the internet is the unlimited supply of things to read. I am always reading and looking for great new authors. I love to read and no doubt you do to, that is why you are a member of my fan club. I found a young writer who will someday soon hold the title of AUTHOR. The following is a recent article she wrote. You can find out more about her here: http://writingwithpower.googlepages.com/kimberly


When life throws you curveballs…
SWING AWAY!

From working at Royals Kauffman Stadium I’ve learned a few things. Aside from the fact they don’t have a half-time and that they have innings and not quarters, I’ve learned that you cheer for the home team. Even when they’re the underdogs. Especially if they’re the underdogs every game. I’ve been shown that, in its own way, life is like baseball. You’re playing the same game every time but the pitcher isn’t always the same person. And sometimes, maybe most of the time, the pitcher is bigger, badder, faster, and in every way stacks the odds higher and higher against you. But you still step up to the plate because people are counting on you. There are people who will still cheer you on, wearing YOUR name across their back, rooting for the underdog which happens to be you.

You can’t just say, “Sorry coach it’s just not my day and I don’t feel like playing.” No. Maybe you’re not playing for yourself or for the love of the game, maybe you don’t even know why; but you do it anyway, because that’s the name of the game.

You’re on the roster and it’s your turn at bat. There’s no backing out now and you’ve got to give it your all. You see everyone in the stands, and the determination on the faces of the opposing players, all of them, trying to get you out one way or another. You step up to home plate and try your best, even when you know it’s not good enough you still grip that bat and swing.

The crack of the bat compels you to run like you mean it. First Base. The stadium lights glare and your muscles burn. Second Base. The adrenaline continues to propel you as you approach your goal. Third base. You can see home base as sweat kisses your lips. You begin to feel anxious and triumphant. You’ll make it home but maybe not. Just then, dust is thrown in the air as you slide into home plate and you hear the pop of the ball in the catcher’s mitt.

Anticipation.

Anxiety.

And finally,

Victory as the Umpire shouts, “Safe!”

The crowd roars, sharing your joyous relief.

Sometimes it pays to step it up and swing.

Who do you play for?

“You don’t play for the name on the back of the jersey, you play for the name on the front.” – T Shirt Tuesday Giveaways.

Written by Kimberly Crowley on Saturday June 27, 2009

To Be A Great Writer

I've been told to be a great writer I have to be a great reader. That I have to read what other people wrote and to write like them. Okay, why?
I don't want to write like someone else, I want to write like me. I don't want to rewrite the great American novel, I want to write my own. plainly, I am me so why not write like me?
I have met writers that want to read your work but will not share their's, giving every excuse they can think of to not show you their work. Why? Cause writers are thieves. We hear a good idea and our mind begins to run. How can I improve this and make it better? How can I ride on the coattails of others?
But isn't the point of writing to get your work READ? Take measures to protect your ideas and then write them. People are going to steal no matter what you do, I know, I had a story stolen from me once. I got upset at first because they were profiting from my story and I was not getting my cut but then I thought about Karma. I had protected my story so there was no worries there. my name was on it so I still got credit.
A light went off in my head and I decided not to worry about theft anymore. Hey, if someone wants to take my idea and run that just means it's a great idea. Only I can keep my same idea going on my same track so what does it matter, when people read it they will know who wrote it.
I have been asked why I post so much of my work online for all the world to see? Well there is the point, I WANT the whole world to read it. If you read me you will like me. If you like me you will hunger for my work. If you hunger for my work you will seek it out and that is the point.
I want to be a writer that my readers can relate to. I want you to feel like I am one of you because I am. I do not want anyone to think I am too good for them because I'm not. I have joined a few fan clubs in my youth and I actually PAID to join just to get some picture signed by someone else sent to me and they never knew who I was. Common on, number one rule, without fans you would not be were you are. Treat people with respect and it will come back to you.
I understand that some people have gotten so popular that this becomes impossible to give that personal touch but that does not mean they have to hide from the world, at least I don't think but I'm not in their shoes.
So what makes a great writer? Who cares, just write.

Max M. Power

Writen February 15, 2009

Life Rules

DONT TUG ON SUPERMAN'S CAPE. DONT SPIT INTO THE WIND. DONT PULL THE MASK OFF THE LONE RANGER. Those are life rules I have learned in a song but I have a few life rules of my own I try to live by: 1. I cant be friends with anyone who HATES Elvis. You dont have to love him but if you out right hate him, we cant be friends.
What are YOUR life rules?

What Do You Believe?

It’s a valid question, what do you believe? It’s a question that can take a lifetime to answer. God gave us all FREE WILL and with that our minds are open to countless possibilities.
There are literally thousands of topics that this question, these four little words, can apply to. You have the three deadliest topics; Sex, Religion, and Politics, there’s a bomb just waiting to go off. But there are others that can really blow your mind: The Supernatural, The Unknown, The Paranormal, Ghost, Shadow People, and The After Life.
Do you believe in Vampires? I do. I know they exist because I am one. I’m not the kind that you’re most likely thinking of, I do not like blood. I’m an Energy Vampire. Look it up, you might be surprised in what you find.
What about aliens? Well, yea, of course they exist. Just because I have not personally seen one myself, I do believe they exist, sorry but the Goobly Goos are a story I made up. If they are not real then it seems like a very bad waist of space.
Ghost? I would not be an amateur ghost hunter if I didn’t. I have had my own experiences all my life with ghost, even having a ghost attached to me for a few years. Now that my ghost is gone I actually miss her playfulness.
So now I ask you, what do you believe?

Max M. Power
Written December 10, 2008

Wealtheow Her Telling of Beowulf

Wealtheow Her Telling of Beowulf by Ashley Crownover
Turner Publishing Company
www.turnerpublishing.com
Nashville, Tennessee

When you say the name Beowulf the first thing to come to mind is the creature Grendel and how the two had a great battle. It’s a story that has captured the imagination for generations. While it is a great story, for me anyways, it is hard to follow due to the style in is written in. Also, it is one sided and I believe there is always more than one side of the story. Ashley Crownover has captured another side of the story beautifully.
In Wealtheow Her Telling of Beowulf you get the back story of Heorot, the great mead hall in Denmark, where the battle took place. It’s not a story of warriors telling tales of conquest but of pain and joy. The emotions of a queen trying to save her people.
The story, written in modern English, flows easily and captures your attention. You feel like you are there in the mead hall itself, feeling the fears of the people, and wanting the monster Grendel destroyed. The joy as Beowulf comes to the rescue. All and all a very good read and highly recommend by a Beowulf fan for those who long to visit times of old.

Max M. Power
Written November 30, 2008

Four A.M.

Four A.M.

Growing up I kind of felt like a Gypsy, traveling back and forth across this vast country of ours. Like most of my family I was born in the beautiful state of California. When I was five I was taken to Texas, where I now live. I was taught the importance of family but at a great distance. While 95% of my family was still in California, we were all spread apart, living in other cities and opposite ends of the state.
One thing remanded the same, no matter where ANY of us were, we all longed for the affection of one person, my grandmother. She was the glue that kept our family together, or at the very least, kept us in line. We learned quickly, do NOT let this little lady fool you, after all dynamite comes in small packages and my grandmother was the ultimate firecracker.
My grandmother taught me that there is a huge difference between hearing and listening. Listening to her for five minutes, you knew she had a life time of stories to tell. The wonderful thing though, even in silence, she could speak volumes.
With everyone pawing for attention and we being half way across the country, my time was limited to short visits. A week, a month, a summer. It really did not matter; we always made the best of it. In 1989 the visit lasted a year, and when school started, I got four a.m.
It started with a summer visit, grandma taking my brother, my cousins, and myself to our huge family reunion at the largest park in Stockton, California. At the park we were allowed to go to the pool. Throughout the summer we went to the pool on our own, taking the city bus, but when grandma took us, there was no silence. Oh no, not my grandma, she taught us how to talk smack to the players.
The Stockton Ports was a minor league baseball team but they were OUR team and grandma said they needed OUR support. So to the game we went, buying a Coke and a hotdog or popcorn. It was un-American to go to a baseball game and NOT get a Coke and hotdog, a lesson I passed on to my own child.
Screaming at the other team, telling the ump he needed glasses, those were good times, and the ONLY time we were allowed to say things like that without getting our butts tanned.
Soon summer came to an end and it was time for school. Over ten people living under one roof, with three bedrooms and one shower, fighting for time was a big issue. I had to be out the door at six in the morning to catch the city bus to school. I took my showers in the morning before anyone else was awake. Four a.m. was my time to wake up.
With sleep in my eyes I stumbled into the shower with my school clothes, having to dress quickly in the bathroom. Wet towel in hand, I walked back to my room to put it into the hamper and grab my backpack. As I closed the door to the room I looked over to the kitchen to see the newspaper floating over the table, my grandmother hidden behind the pages.
Breakfast was sitting on the table waiting for me. Grandma made what she made and there was no complaining allowed. I could complain but it would result in getting slapped in the face, breakfast taken away, and having to wait until lunch for my next meal. Like I said, no complaining allowed.
I would sit down, good mornings were exchanged and I would begin to eat. No other words were spoken except an occasional, “Will you look at that…” “I can’t believe they did that…” or “Well, I’ll be…” Grandma never treated us like fragile children but more like young adults so she would read certain articles and ask my opinion.
We never had “conversations” per say but I learned a lot from grandma. At five a.m. the rest of the house would begin to wake up and I would have to clear my place from the table and finish getting ready for school back in my room. It was everyone else’s turn to spend the morning with grandma before she went to work. We all had to share this wonderful woman but at least I had her all to myself at four a.m.

Max M. Power

Written November 24, 2008

Paper or Plastic

No I'm not talking about your groceries. I'm talking about shopping. In this age of electronics, where almost everything can be done on a hand held device that fits in your pocket, more and more people are turning to the internet to get their entertainment. In fact I am writing this article on a hand held Palm Pilot PDA.
Things are more convenient online. Stores are going out of business while their website counterparts are thriving. People don't have to fight for parking, stand in long lines, or deal with rude people. Your purchase can be delivered to your address so you never have to leave the house. If you know where to look most times you can get what you want for cheaper than you can in the store.
Want to see a movie? Going to a movie can cost over $20 per person when you add in popcorn and a drink. That same movie can be downloaded for less than $3 depending on who you use. Makes you wonder how long DVDs will last at $15 to $20 a movie.
Books? Average paperback will not cost less than $8 while a hardback is closer to $22. An e-book can range from $0.50 to $7 depending on the book. Depending on the handheld device an e-readers can be a fairly cheap add on. A paper book can be bulky; especially if it’s a Stephen King novel, and is can not fit in most pockets.
Amozon.com has The Kindle, other websites offer E-Reader Machines, Palm has a downloadable program that can turn any Palm Pilot into an e-reader, and even cell phones can be turned into e-readers. The great thing about any e-reader is that depending on your memory size you can store anywhere from a hundred files or books on up into the thousands. No more looking for a dictionary, they can be downloaded too.
With this age of technology the question still stands, paper or plastic? While plastic may be more convenient nothing beat good old fashion rough paper. The sound of a newspaper rustling as you turn the pages. The smell of a brand new book as you open it for the first time and let the ink breath. The feel of a crisp new dollar bill between your finger tips.
The best thing about paper that outweighs plastic, no power needed to operate. If you live in an area where a strong story can knock out power for days or weeks at a time you know how wonderful paper can be. So what will it be, paper or plastic?

Written November 15, 2008