Wednesday, January 11, 2012
Tuesday, January 10, 2012
The Tower 3
A figure sat in the shadows of a tall-backed, reading chair. I couldn't see his face, but I could tell he was very tall and broad shouldered. I backed up until I felt the bookshelves behind me.
"Who are you?" I demanded.
"I am the owner of this tower," came the gentle, but firm response.
"But who are you?" I asked again slowly.
"Unfortunately I can't answer that question right now," he replied. "I have been waiting for you for quite some time now."
"Me? You were waiting for me?" I couldn't fathom why he would be waiting for me. I was a simple girl from a small town working as a flight attendant for a smaller airline. I was not anyone of importance, so why would this mysterious figure in the strange tower be waiting for me?
"For all the reasons you just listed in your head and for the fact that you were brave enough to climb the stairs...and because you saw the books before you even knew I was here," he replied. Even in the shadows I could tell he was smiling.
I relaxed a little, very little. I still didn't understand so I waited for him to continue.
He took a deep breath. "There is a book on the fourth shelf with a dark purple cover and silver writing, will you bring it to me?"
Though nervous to turn my back on him, I faced the shelves and located the volume in question. I pulled it carefully from the shelf. It was very old and the leather was worn and cracked on the corners. As it fell completely into my hands I realized it was very heavy, more so than any text book I had ever carried in college.
I stepped toward the chair and the man moved to get up. For the first time the firelight illuminated his face. It was a very handsome face with piercing blue eyes and dark brown hair. His features were tired and worn, but the wisdom in his expression could not be masked.
He got to his feet and I looked up in surprise. He had to be at least six foot seven or taller. I stepped back involuntarily and he paused. A look of chagrin crossed his face and he reached out carefully for the book I held.
"I forgot how my height amazes your people," he said moving toward a reading stand.
I shook my head. "Only a little surprised. I have a cousin who is six seven," I replied. "I just don't see many people as tall as you."
He looked back at me with an expression of pleasure. He carefully set the volume on the stand and began turning the pages. I watched for several moments before I realized that he hadn't actually touched the pages.
When he stopped he beckoned me closer. Though still a bit uncertain I moved to his side and glanced down at the pages in front of us. In an instant I could feel myself being pulled back through the darkness of sleep.
to be continued...
"Who are you?" I demanded.
"I am the owner of this tower," came the gentle, but firm response.
"But who are you?" I asked again slowly.
"Unfortunately I can't answer that question right now," he replied. "I have been waiting for you for quite some time now."
"Me? You were waiting for me?" I couldn't fathom why he would be waiting for me. I was a simple girl from a small town working as a flight attendant for a smaller airline. I was not anyone of importance, so why would this mysterious figure in the strange tower be waiting for me?
"For all the reasons you just listed in your head and for the fact that you were brave enough to climb the stairs...and because you saw the books before you even knew I was here," he replied. Even in the shadows I could tell he was smiling.
I relaxed a little, very little. I still didn't understand so I waited for him to continue.
He took a deep breath. "There is a book on the fourth shelf with a dark purple cover and silver writing, will you bring it to me?"
Though nervous to turn my back on him, I faced the shelves and located the volume in question. I pulled it carefully from the shelf. It was very old and the leather was worn and cracked on the corners. As it fell completely into my hands I realized it was very heavy, more so than any text book I had ever carried in college.
I stepped toward the chair and the man moved to get up. For the first time the firelight illuminated his face. It was a very handsome face with piercing blue eyes and dark brown hair. His features were tired and worn, but the wisdom in his expression could not be masked.
He got to his feet and I looked up in surprise. He had to be at least six foot seven or taller. I stepped back involuntarily and he paused. A look of chagrin crossed his face and he reached out carefully for the book I held.
"I forgot how my height amazes your people," he said moving toward a reading stand.
I shook my head. "Only a little surprised. I have a cousin who is six seven," I replied. "I just don't see many people as tall as you."
He looked back at me with an expression of pleasure. He carefully set the volume on the stand and began turning the pages. I watched for several moments before I realized that he hadn't actually touched the pages.
When he stopped he beckoned me closer. Though still a bit uncertain I moved to his side and glanced down at the pages in front of us. In an instant I could feel myself being pulled back through the darkness of sleep.
to be continued...
Monday, January 9, 2012
The Tower 2
The door swings eerily open beckoning me. I step over the threshold and look around. The light from the door illuminated the room revealing a tiny fireplace and an enormous stone staircase.
I could feel the cold and smell the dank, musty air of an unused building, but a fire crackled in the fireplace. I scanned the room suspiciously looking for anyone who could have built the fire. It seemed deserted so I decided to try the stairs.
I felt uncomfortable from the first step a feeling that I was being watched haunting me as I descended. The stairs seemed to go on forever winding up and up. I glanced at my watch and realized it was missing.
Time seemed to stand still as I lifted one foot after another. The sound of my shoes slapping against the stone echoed up and down the stairway. Just when I thought it would never end I reached the top of the stairs.
Thick carpets with strange designs covered the floor of the circular room. Another fireplace, much larger than the one downstairs, sat on the far wall with another fire crackling merrily. I could feel the warmth from the stairs. I slowly walked across the floor my steps silenced by the thick carpets.
I reached out my hands feeling the heat. It toasted my fingers and up my arms. I turned around to let the heat warm the back of my body. I looked around the room taking in the surroundings. An old fashioned desk sat across from the fire with a whole series of bookshelves lining the walls several feet out from the desk.
Books with worn, leather covers filled the shelves. For the first time I noticed the pungent smell of leather in the air. I crossed the room again this time heading straight for the books. The titles were all written in a slanted script and sparkled like gold or silver.
"The ones on the right are the most interesting," a deep voice said behind me.
I whirled around to face the speaker.
to be continued...
I could feel the cold and smell the dank, musty air of an unused building, but a fire crackled in the fireplace. I scanned the room suspiciously looking for anyone who could have built the fire. It seemed deserted so I decided to try the stairs.
I felt uncomfortable from the first step a feeling that I was being watched haunting me as I descended. The stairs seemed to go on forever winding up and up. I glanced at my watch and realized it was missing.
Time seemed to stand still as I lifted one foot after another. The sound of my shoes slapping against the stone echoed up and down the stairway. Just when I thought it would never end I reached the top of the stairs.
Thick carpets with strange designs covered the floor of the circular room. Another fireplace, much larger than the one downstairs, sat on the far wall with another fire crackling merrily. I could feel the warmth from the stairs. I slowly walked across the floor my steps silenced by the thick carpets.
I reached out my hands feeling the heat. It toasted my fingers and up my arms. I turned around to let the heat warm the back of my body. I looked around the room taking in the surroundings. An old fashioned desk sat across from the fire with a whole series of bookshelves lining the walls several feet out from the desk.
Books with worn, leather covers filled the shelves. For the first time I noticed the pungent smell of leather in the air. I crossed the room again this time heading straight for the books. The titles were all written in a slanted script and sparkled like gold or silver.
"The ones on the right are the most interesting," a deep voice said behind me.
I whirled around to face the speaker.
to be continued...
Sunday, January 8, 2012
Obedience
Obedience was the theme at church today and in my scripture study. We talked about our willingness to follow the Lord's commandments and how we can be blessed by being obedient. In the Book of Mormon Nephi tells his father that he will do what the Lord commands, 'for I know the Lord will provide a way.'
I have thought about this statement many times over the last few months seeing how the Lord has provided a way for the things in my life to come together. I quit my job and two weeks later heard about an interview with the airline. Now I am a flight attendant and loving my job for the first time in years.
I could give a hundred different examples, but the reality is that if I am willing to obey the small and simple commandments the Lord will bless me. That doesn't mean life will be easy on the contrary there will probably be even more challenges, but I will be a better person for holding to my values and standards. I will be stronger as an individual.
I am grateful for the blessings I have gained by being obedient to the commandments of God. I know there are many people out there who believe in some sort of a higher deity and some who don't believe in anything, but I do know that what ever you believe if you can follow those basic laws of positive living or the commandments we have been given we will be blessed.
We must understand though that the blessings may not be what I want, but the Lord will make sure it is what I need.
I have thought about this statement many times over the last few months seeing how the Lord has provided a way for the things in my life to come together. I quit my job and two weeks later heard about an interview with the airline. Now I am a flight attendant and loving my job for the first time in years.
I could give a hundred different examples, but the reality is that if I am willing to obey the small and simple commandments the Lord will bless me. That doesn't mean life will be easy on the contrary there will probably be even more challenges, but I will be a better person for holding to my values and standards. I will be stronger as an individual.
I am grateful for the blessings I have gained by being obedient to the commandments of God. I know there are many people out there who believe in some sort of a higher deity and some who don't believe in anything, but I do know that what ever you believe if you can follow those basic laws of positive living or the commandments we have been given we will be blessed.
We must understand though that the blessings may not be what I want, but the Lord will make sure it is what I need.
Friday, January 6, 2012
The Tower 1
I lay in bed listening to the rushing sound of the morning traffic on the freeway just below my hotel room. Sunlight filters through the sheer curtains creating a natural golden cast on everything it touches. Despite the freeway there is a peaceful feeling in the room. I close my eyes wanting to bask in the experience for just a little longer.
The sounds from the freeway melt into the background and are slowly replaced by another. It is familiar, but unfamiliar. I listen carefully until I finally realize it is the rustling of leaves in a morning breeze. I open my eyes and to my surprise find myself lying on a soft carpet of moss in the middle of a forest.
Massive trees reach hundreds of feet to the sky. The sunlight passing through the leaves make distorted patterns on the ground beneath my feet. I turn around in awe taking in the strange beauty all around me. Uniquely shaped bushes are scattered across the forest floor. I reach out to touch one and it shimmers and blurs before me. When my eyes refocus I find the bush has moved several feet away.
Confusion washes over me. Where was I? How did I get here? These questions fill my mind with increasing fear. I close my eyes and take a deep breath calming my scattered nerves. When I feel ready I open them and look around carefully. A trail, slightly hidden by the strange bushes, lays just to my right. I move toward the trail stepping carefully past the foliage.
I walk for what seems like hours weaving in and out between the massive trees. Ahead I notice a change in the light; I increase my pace. I can see now there is a break in the trees. I approach it cautiously not wanting to fall off a cliff or anything. It feels like the trees step aside for me to pass.
I now face a clearing the size of half a football field. In the center of the clearing is a tower made of beautiful round stones. An arched doorway at the base catches my eye. I slowly make my way to the doorway. It looks like wood, but with the sparkle of granite in the sunlight. As soon as I reach the door it opens.
Nervously I step across the threshold.
to be continued...
The sounds from the freeway melt into the background and are slowly replaced by another. It is familiar, but unfamiliar. I listen carefully until I finally realize it is the rustling of leaves in a morning breeze. I open my eyes and to my surprise find myself lying on a soft carpet of moss in the middle of a forest.
Massive trees reach hundreds of feet to the sky. The sunlight passing through the leaves make distorted patterns on the ground beneath my feet. I turn around in awe taking in the strange beauty all around me. Uniquely shaped bushes are scattered across the forest floor. I reach out to touch one and it shimmers and blurs before me. When my eyes refocus I find the bush has moved several feet away.
Confusion washes over me. Where was I? How did I get here? These questions fill my mind with increasing fear. I close my eyes and take a deep breath calming my scattered nerves. When I feel ready I open them and look around carefully. A trail, slightly hidden by the strange bushes, lays just to my right. I move toward the trail stepping carefully past the foliage.
I walk for what seems like hours weaving in and out between the massive trees. Ahead I notice a change in the light; I increase my pace. I can see now there is a break in the trees. I approach it cautiously not wanting to fall off a cliff or anything. It feels like the trees step aside for me to pass.
I now face a clearing the size of half a football field. In the center of the clearing is a tower made of beautiful round stones. An arched doorway at the base catches my eye. I slowly make my way to the doorway. It looks like wood, but with the sparkle of granite in the sunlight. As soon as I reach the door it opens.
Nervously I step across the threshold.
Source: Wikimedia Commons
Source URL: http://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File%3AStone_Tower_at_Hillcrest_Cemetary_Grafton_State_Hospital.jpg
to be continued...
Thursday, January 5, 2012
Perspective
There is a picture of a couple hugging at a station. Off to one side
is a discarded umbrella and off to the other is a suitcase. I used to
look at this picture and think about the story of this couple. As I
ponder the emotion behind their reunion I wonder if my first impression
was correct. Is this couple coming together after being apart for so
long? Is there a deeper story to be found?
Instead of a reunion I see a realization.
Tearfully the woman caressed his cheek. The patter of rain on the umbrella sent a staccato that drown out the noise of the busy station. She didn't want to say goodbye, but it seemed like there was no other choice.
He murmured words of love and appreciation and turned to leave. He didn't know when he would return and his heart ached to stay with her and hold her close. Suitcase in hand he reached up to grab the handle of the train car that would take him away. His hand froze in mid-air.
She watched him for only a few seconds and then turned away. Her heart was breaking. She took two steps, three, four, five...then stopped. She couldn't just let him go. She whirled around determined to stop him...or go with him.
Their eyes met as the train whistle blew. The world seemed to slow around them as they realized that together was where they were meant to be. In a blur they were together. He swept her off her feet, twirling her in a circle of love and happiness.
On the sidewalk an umbrella lay discarded as her arms wrapped around his neck. Next to the empty rails sits a suitcase no longer necessary. Both evidence of a realization.
Yes, my version of their story could be one of many. It is all about perspective. One hundred people could look at the same picture and all one hundred of them could have a different story in their mind from that same picture. The difference is each of those people's perspective.
So when you next see someone or a picture or write something remember your perspective is not the only one out there.
This can also be found at http://wr1t3r.hubpages.com/hub/Whatistherealstory
Instead of a reunion I see a realization.
Tearfully the woman caressed his cheek. The patter of rain on the umbrella sent a staccato that drown out the noise of the busy station. She didn't want to say goodbye, but it seemed like there was no other choice.
He murmured words of love and appreciation and turned to leave. He didn't know when he would return and his heart ached to stay with her and hold her close. Suitcase in hand he reached up to grab the handle of the train car that would take him away. His hand froze in mid-air.
She watched him for only a few seconds and then turned away. Her heart was breaking. She took two steps, three, four, five...then stopped. She couldn't just let him go. She whirled around determined to stop him...or go with him.
Their eyes met as the train whistle blew. The world seemed to slow around them as they realized that together was where they were meant to be. In a blur they were together. He swept her off her feet, twirling her in a circle of love and happiness.
On the sidewalk an umbrella lay discarded as her arms wrapped around his neck. Next to the empty rails sits a suitcase no longer necessary. Both evidence of a realization.
Yes, my version of their story could be one of many. It is all about perspective. One hundred people could look at the same picture and all one hundred of them could have a different story in their mind from that same picture. The difference is each of those people's perspective.
So when you next see someone or a picture or write something remember your perspective is not the only one out there.
This can also be found at http://wr1t3r.hubpages.com/hub/Whatistherealstory
Wednesday, January 4, 2012
A Little History Anyone?
I am fascinated by WWII. The history and events are very interesting, but I love reading about the people who suffered and gave so much to protect the freedoms we all appreciate so much. I love reading any historical fiction about that era, but it drives me crazy when I discover that the events writers add to their stories are just as fictional as the characters. When I read a historical fiction story I expect it to have actual historical knowledge and base.
I recently re-read a book a good friend gave me called Summer of My German Soldier by Bette Greene. It is a good story, but I, being the romantic I am, didn't like the not-so-happy ending. So to calm my ruffled emotions I decided to write my own WWII story.
Prior to this experience I had never had the desire to write historical fiction or anything that was realistic. I am more of a fantasy writer. But my determination was set. I started out by deciding on a story line. Of course I didn't want to copy what someone else had already done, so I took my setting and adjusted it a bit to create a different frame of mind. Then, I called my brother who is a pilot and asked for any information he had on B17 bombers. He gave me a few great books to look through and I learned a lot more about those amazing planes than I ever planned to. Next, I researched battles and air strikes and everything I could to understand what the United States Air Force role was in WWII.
After about six months of research and writing I had my story. Another few months and I had the ending I wanted and excellent editing. I tried it out on a few people and asked a dear friend to double check my German. I was excited to have the story finished and I was pretty happy with it.
So now I am going through the whole process of trying to get it published. I'm hoping one day it will come about, but for now I will stick with posting sections here on my blog.
Check out The Line That Divides Chapter 1. This material is copyrighted by M M Mason. Any retranscription or reproduction is illegal.
I recently re-read a book a good friend gave me called Summer of My German Soldier by Bette Greene. It is a good story, but I, being the romantic I am, didn't like the not-so-happy ending. So to calm my ruffled emotions I decided to write my own WWII story.
Prior to this experience I had never had the desire to write historical fiction or anything that was realistic. I am more of a fantasy writer. But my determination was set. I started out by deciding on a story line. Of course I didn't want to copy what someone else had already done, so I took my setting and adjusted it a bit to create a different frame of mind. Then, I called my brother who is a pilot and asked for any information he had on B17 bombers. He gave me a few great books to look through and I learned a lot more about those amazing planes than I ever planned to. Next, I researched battles and air strikes and everything I could to understand what the United States Air Force role was in WWII.
After about six months of research and writing I had my story. Another few months and I had the ending I wanted and excellent editing. I tried it out on a few people and asked a dear friend to double check my German. I was excited to have the story finished and I was pretty happy with it.
So now I am going through the whole process of trying to get it published. I'm hoping one day it will come about, but for now I will stick with posting sections here on my blog.
Check out The Line That Divides Chapter 1. This material is copyrighted by M M Mason. Any retranscription or reproduction is illegal.
Tuesday, January 3, 2012
Sleeping In
I have realized just how wonderful and addictive sleeping in is. I have just spent a month on reserve in Fresno on a 9 to 9 schedule and found myself staying up late and sleeping in. I have to change that since I am now on a 4am to 4pm schedule. I haven't been called yet, but this morning I woke at 8 and thought "well this won't happen very often."
But have you noticed that when you start sleeping in it gets easier and easier to sleep later and later. I'm not what you would call a morning person, but I do value those morning hours from 7 to 10 that I seem to be able to get more done when I am conscious than the whole rest of the day. When I sleep through those hours the day seems to go by without me really accomplishing anything.
I guess there really is truth to the old adage: Early to bed, early to rise, makes a man (or woman) healthy, wealthy and wise. So we can add a new goal or resolution or whatever to go to bed earlier and wake up earlier. Besides if I get called at 4am I have to get up anyway. :)
But have you noticed that when you start sleeping in it gets easier and easier to sleep later and later. I'm not what you would call a morning person, but I do value those morning hours from 7 to 10 that I seem to be able to get more done when I am conscious than the whole rest of the day. When I sleep through those hours the day seems to go by without me really accomplishing anything.
I guess there really is truth to the old adage: Early to bed, early to rise, makes a man (or woman) healthy, wealthy and wise. So we can add a new goal or resolution or whatever to go to bed earlier and wake up earlier. Besides if I get called at 4am I have to get up anyway. :)
Monday, January 2, 2012
Two hours can make the difference
It sat there staring me down just waiting for me to give in. I couldn't no matter how much I wanted to. It was against all I had striven and worked for. There had to be more than this one decision that was tearing me in half. This couldn't possibly be this difficult, could it? Yet here I was struggling once more. I was determined not to let this beat me. I will conquer this. There is no stopping me. I have worked too hard not to earn this.
I turned away. This is the only way I could survive. I leave refusing to let its subtle taunting affect me. I go into the other room, but I can hear it calling after me. I shut the door hoping to stop it's siren song. Distractions. I need something to distract me. I turn on the TV and set the volume up so I can't hear the deadly song from the other room. That seems to help until the commercial comes on. No, not that. I can't take it. Maybe if I go for a walk, leave the scene, get away. I grab my purse, but I'm instantly confronted with it.
"You know you can't resist me," it says.
"I can," I cry. "I will. You won't get me." I turn away determined to leave it's brutal taunt.
It laughs, a wicked chuckle that sends chills down my back. "You'll never escape me."
"I will," I shouted.
I storm out of the room slamming the door then suddenly realize I left my keys and my purse inside the apartment. I whirl around and grab the door knob hoping against hope that I forgot to lock it, but it doesn't turn. Ugh. I pull out my phone to call a lock smith.
An hour later and two times around the block I reenter the apartment and fork out fifty bucks. I collapse onto the couch with a sigh.
"Welcome back," it says snidely.
I look over with disgust and get to my feet. "I am totally disgusted with you," I call over my shoulder.
I head into the bedroom and change into my pajamas. This had to stop. I can't afford this. I pull my hair into a pony tail and push up my sleeves. Determined I march into the other room and confront it.
"I am done with this," I say determined. I reach over.
"You can't get rid of me," it says.
"Yes I can."
I grab it off the counter pull off the wrapper and pop the chocolate into my mouth. Well I lasted longer this year. Two whole hours longer.
I turned away. This is the only way I could survive. I leave refusing to let its subtle taunting affect me. I go into the other room, but I can hear it calling after me. I shut the door hoping to stop it's siren song. Distractions. I need something to distract me. I turn on the TV and set the volume up so I can't hear the deadly song from the other room. That seems to help until the commercial comes on. No, not that. I can't take it. Maybe if I go for a walk, leave the scene, get away. I grab my purse, but I'm instantly confronted with it.
"You know you can't resist me," it says.
"I can," I cry. "I will. You won't get me." I turn away determined to leave it's brutal taunt.
It laughs, a wicked chuckle that sends chills down my back. "You'll never escape me."
"I will," I shouted.
I storm out of the room slamming the door then suddenly realize I left my keys and my purse inside the apartment. I whirl around and grab the door knob hoping against hope that I forgot to lock it, but it doesn't turn. Ugh. I pull out my phone to call a lock smith.
An hour later and two times around the block I reenter the apartment and fork out fifty bucks. I collapse onto the couch with a sigh.
"Welcome back," it says snidely.
I look over with disgust and get to my feet. "I am totally disgusted with you," I call over my shoulder.
I head into the bedroom and change into my pajamas. This had to stop. I can't afford this. I pull my hair into a pony tail and push up my sleeves. Determined I march into the other room and confront it.
"I am done with this," I say determined. I reach over.
"You can't get rid of me," it says.
"Yes I can."
I grab it off the counter pull off the wrapper and pop the chocolate into my mouth. Well I lasted longer this year. Two whole hours longer.
Sunday, January 1, 2012
Resolution
Today I have had the opportunity to ponder on the New Year and what it means for me and those around me. At church we talked about Lot's wife and to remember her choice to look back. Too often we look back and dwell on our past, the things that didn't happen, the mistakes we made, the pain and suffering we felt. The teacher encouraged us to instead look to the future and find hope in the Atonement and in life in general.
Too often I find myself looking back on the things that have gone wrong in my life whether by my choices or not and I have resolved to do better at looking to the future. So many influential people say to make your new year's resolutions. The world's focus tends to be on weight loss, looks, success, degree of famousness (yes, I made up my own word. I'm a writer I can do that). :)
Sure I have my list of resolutions, one of which is to write a New York Times bestseller book, but of my resolutions what will make me truly happy? I find the lesson today coming back to remind me that when I help and serve others, when I put the Savior first I will be happy. I want to look to the future with excitement and anticipation that this year will bring the greatest blessings in my life, but only if I am willing to use those blessings to help others.
I believe that any of us who choose to follow the Spirit (call it what you may: intuition, inner self) and make those choices that will help those around us then we will find true joy in our own lives and blessings we didn't think possible.
So yes, I will be writing and striving for that best seller, but I do it hoping that the people I meet and experiences I have will enrich the journey and in the end whether or not I become famous won't matter because I will be happy.
New Year's Resolution: Be Happy!
Too often I find myself looking back on the things that have gone wrong in my life whether by my choices or not and I have resolved to do better at looking to the future. So many influential people say to make your new year's resolutions. The world's focus tends to be on weight loss, looks, success, degree of famousness (yes, I made up my own word. I'm a writer I can do that). :)
Sure I have my list of resolutions, one of which is to write a New York Times bestseller book, but of my resolutions what will make me truly happy? I find the lesson today coming back to remind me that when I help and serve others, when I put the Savior first I will be happy. I want to look to the future with excitement and anticipation that this year will bring the greatest blessings in my life, but only if I am willing to use those blessings to help others.
I believe that any of us who choose to follow the Spirit (call it what you may: intuition, inner self) and make those choices that will help those around us then we will find true joy in our own lives and blessings we didn't think possible.
So yes, I will be writing and striving for that best seller, but I do it hoping that the people I meet and experiences I have will enrich the journey and in the end whether or not I become famous won't matter because I will be happy.
New Year's Resolution: Be Happy!
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