Why a strong protagonist female matters – The Sound of the Stones debut

Paul Davis

The below post was written by Beth Hammond, a writing buddy and a talented artist. It was supposed to be posted Sunday, but life happens and I forget things. She had a book recently release, which is below, so please check it out. There are plenty of links in the below post to bring you to her website or book page.

Beth Hammond

Give me a strong woman protagonist, one that doesn’t sit around lamenting about the tragedies that befall her. Can she be sad once in a while, frustrated, weak? Yes, but please don’t take me on a journey with a woman who wallows in self-doubt, who spends the entire book incessantly needing reassurance and clamoring for a man’s attention. *Slaps the female character that bases self worth on a man’s opinion*

Give me a woman protagonist I can relate to, one who isn’t the most graceful, beautiful woman that…

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Static Electricty

An Ode to Static Electricity
((Sung in a punk rock style))

Dear static electricity
Please let go of me
I wasn’t in the vicinity
But you stuck plastic on my hand

And now I’m wondering
Why you’re hooked on me
I’m like a submarine
With a healthy fear of land

Chorus
Shockingly I run into you, sets my hair on end
I don’t have a need for the negativity you send
Get over yourself, my dear, you wont phase my heart
I’ll be leaving when I can finally pull my clothes apart

I can’t appreciate this shocking force
You’re grabbing for me from the floor
I’m positive we need a divorce
It’s so dry, it’s too worn, you don’t understand

The lightning strike was just too much
Is there anything you wont touch?
Someone get me some glass
I wont allow you to conduct a spark
You’re attacking me alone in the dark
Eventually this too shall pass

Chorus

And now I’ve charged my heart to someone else
I’m positive you’ll get over it before too long
Honestly I never felt the spark kindle for myself
Maybe if you didn’t conduct yourself so wrong
I might have chosen to let you light up my heart
Frankly some days I miss your spark

Don’t Judge Me

I see you there, waiting in line behind my conveyor belt of groceries.  My two children are ready to be home, and frankly so am I.

I pull out a little white card, and hope you can’t see.  Swiping it quickly, shamefully, I dive my hand into my purse so you don’t know what the card looked like.

Don’t judge me, please, as you watch my transaction in process.  You tap your button and glance at your display, I know you know.  Please don’t say anything.

I walk the aisle in the store, and purchase the same as I would if I were buying for my family.  We’re vegetarian and don’t drink milk–but we eat yogurt, eggs and cheese.  We drink coffee and herbal tea instead of soda and juice, we sweeten with agave and honey.
These things are expensive, I know.  It’s not my fault eating right is for the elite.  But I’m not going to stock up on junk food because it’s “cheaper”.

Don’t watch my hand dive in my wallet.  Please don’t look at me as though I’m a criminal.  I’m honestly just trying to feed my family, and my husbands income is not enough.

I’m not asking for a handout.  I don’t want your help.  We have barely been scraping by.  Our bills are paid, our rent is covered.  We put gas in the car …. once.  But now the money is gone, and we still have needs.  I don’t know how the laundry is getting washed.
The diapers were a gift.  Someone blessed us this month.
The trial is only for a little while, we expect to have it better soon.

My husband goes to school, and has a job.  I can’t get one too.  Right now, my job is Mommy.  Don’t judge my decision, it’s really not up to you.

I write, I draw, I can make use of my time.  Simple little ways to earn some extra money from time to time.  Though writing jobs are hard to find.  I’m subscribed to receive opportunities– and so are hundreds of other writers.

I teach.  However I have no college hours, substituting is out of the question in this town.

I came out of poverty, and have to poverty returned.  A degree would have been of no use, I wanted to be a youth pastor.  Ministerial degrees aren’t in high demand.

Don’t judge me.  You don’t know where I’ve been.  I only wished I’d never be in that place again.  But we are.  And you don’t know how hard we work to fix it.

My husband is at school on scholarship.  Thats the only way he can go.  Being in the military, you’d think he’d have earned more respect.  This isn’t the same Military it was in 1945.  This isn’t the same America either.

We’re fighting to make our way, and pushing really hard.  The numbers aren’t rounding up, they continue to plummet instead.

I’m a white American woman, married, with two kids.  A soldiers wife, proud and strong.  A minister fighting for the Kingdom.  I’m the Warrior cast.

….but right now we’re in need.  So unless you have the magical ability to feed my family with two loaves of bread and five minnows–until our boat comes in– I suggest you go judge someone else.  I’m not in the mood to feel anxious over what you think of me.

What’s the deal with fantasy?

What is the deal with Fantasy 😉

SpyKeyOne

I’m in a writing group with a lot of writers, and lovely people, a great many of whom write what is loosely termed as ‘Fantasy’.

I only say ‘loosely’ because it’s a very generic term. Vampires, werewolves, elves, dragons and the ilk. Alternate worlds/realities, magic swords, princes and princes etc etc.

And I thought to myself. Do I really have that much in common with these people?

The answer is yes.

I scanned my DVD and book collections (And comics and graphic novels and, dare I say it, toys) – Lord of the Rings, Blade, Underworld, American Werewolf and, of course, superheroes to name but a few. I could go on and on.

Oops.

So why? What IS the deal with fantasy?

Definition of fantasy in English:

noun (plural fantasies)

[MASS NOUN] The faculty or activity of imagining impossible or improbable things:

Fair enough. – But what’s the fascination?

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Endless Screaming

The voices in my head.
The baby in her bed.
The toddler in the hall…..
Someone silence it all.

I’m so tired, I’m so done.
I just need somewhere to run.
Make it stop! Send relief!
I feel like I can’t breathe.

One will stop, the other start.
They’re tearing my skull apart.
It’s ringing in my ears,
Driving me to tears.

If anyone can hear me,
Come and make it stop.
Why can’t they let me be?
Night wont seem to drop.

Go to sleep, just let me rest!
Please stop scratching at my chest.
Silence your shudders and cries.
Close your mouth, close your eyes.

Drift away and give me a break.
I’m losing my mind, for goodness sake.

Opportunity Of A Lifetime

What if you had the chance to study abroad?
If a university of a foreign country singled you, and a handful of other students out, and said “Come to our country and we’ll hook you up.”
But the catch was, you only had five months to do this in.

Five months to apply for VISA’s and passports, find a job, a place to stay, and the money to leave your country.
But!  You get to stay in this country for 6 years.

Would you do it?
You’d almost be an idiot not to.

Think about the possibilities.  The opportunities for your children.

….think about how comfortable it is to live on a secluded continent out on the ocean, where your only concerns are the southern neighbors.

Think about the countryside!  Romping about in the mountains, and woods.  Seeing old architecture, and trying desperately hard not to get too attached, after all VISA’s expire, and all of the people you love are still back home.

The opportunity dangles in the front of your mind, invitingly.
What will you do with it?
Is it really possible?