A dark and poetic look into the world of childhood trauma, family secrets and into the mind of a survivor. Written through tears and empowered by strength, each poem amplifies the voices of the shame, secrets and silence that accompanies the lifelong struggles of being a statistic in a world full of abused children. A window into her upcoming memoir, A Childhood Tragedy Under A Mother’s Watch. May these poems bring comfort and strength to those who can relate and an understanding to those who don’t.
Mellon has taken on a challenge of writing poetic verse regarding childhood abuse of all kinds. And they are about her own experiences. No child should be abused, ever! No child should have one parent a monster and the other act blind about what was going with their very own child. Society says abuse is wrong, yet society also does not want to get involved, a large percentage of the time. To have repressed memories come forth from buried deep within oneself, Mellon has overcome what she endured, and now she writes books and poetry to express what horror she endured, and to help others is similar situations.
Good evening, everyone. I hope your Friday was awesome and your weekend will be even better!
I went wrong today by leaving home with my hair down for the first time in forever. Picture below taken before we left the house. I literally did nothing with it. I even joked with Mike about how long it had been since he could remember, and he could not. Do not get me wrong; he does see it down every day but I do put it up out of convenience when leaving the house. But I digress…and best get on with this saga…
So, we headed out on a nice easy drive to Kansas City and KU Med for my 3pm appointment. Things went well. Then I received a call asking if I could be there at 2pm. No problem. See you at 2pm.
Ring…could I come in any earlier? Like how early? She said 1pm. I replied yes, no problem, we were in Topeka, Mike had was shopping.
On the turnpike, I told Mike we should just go straight there, and I bet they would take me back even sooner. We arrived at noon and yes, we were escorted back to a room in less than five minutes. That said, my back pain was, at that time, 70% less than it was before back surgery and the wires leads placed to block nerve impulses from reaching my brain – perfectly working. So far, so good. The dreaded question I had been expecting, they did ask.
How did you fall and how did you land? I suffered a hard fall on my left ribs 11 days ago or so. A fall that should not have happened, theoretically speaking. Yes, I broke ribs. I know when I break ribs. This was not my first or even second rodeo with fractured ribs. This was number six – I think.
I knew they broke, and I am doing a self-assessment head to toe. Ribs broke, no lung puncture, not at that time, and hopefully never! One scrape and numerous contusions.
I managed to get up and go to bed. Long story short, the pain in my ribs was a bit better today, thus healing, in the remodeling stage was happening. Then I was informed that a chest x-ray would have been the thing to do. I said yes, but I’d monitored for lung puncture, etcetera. They understood that.
Then I was informed that a hard fall like that could have displaced the wires up my spine. I am thinking…but they were sutured to fascia. Yes, they were, but a fall still has potential to cause displacement. Okay. How is your pain? Back or ribs? Back 70% for the WIN. Ribs not so much. I was informed that being I was at 70% pain relief in my back, my wires must still be in proper placement. What a relief. No x-ray needed. But if it changed, I had to go to the ER for a chest x-ray, to see my ribs AND to check my current wire placement. We were in and out of KU Med in under 30 minutes.
I had free food and free play coming to me, so Hollywood we did go. I walked from the garage entrance to the escalator going up to Turn 2.
Keep in mind the casino filmed it all. We stop to read a sign and before I knew it a drunk woman plowed into my oxygen and literally dragged it with her to the floor, and past her quite a ways. As I felt it being yanked from my hand, I turned to the right and down I went. Hard fall. On tile. Hard tile.
The woman said, “What happened?” in a drunken manner. Mike’s first words back to her were, “She just had back surgery.” Mike was ticker off. His words were loud but he didn’t yell. Then he looked at me and saw I was down as well. The woman never got hurt, but the liquor she had carried smashed on the tiles. The woman was drunk. That is not how it is to be in any casino. Her group of friends were worried about their friend first, then they worried more about me after hearing Mike’s words on my back surgery, and my broken ribs. By then she was sitting in a chair and I was still down. I was angry.
What security did with the woman is their business. I had to self-assess once again. If one has broken ribs, and they fall, it is even easier to puncture a lung. Fortunately, I landed on my knees/lower legs and used my left arm/hand to stop me from falling further by grabbing the railing on the escalator at the bottom. I am down, leaning at next to the up escalator, no oxygen, in pain, doing an assessment.
Mike retrieved my oxygen; I got back on. Never mind the yuk my cannula had been drug through but hopefully the liquor it also went through helped to sanitize it. Mike carefully helped me up as he was the only one to know how to do it with my ribs and every thing. He is my hero. Always and forever my hero.
That fall took more out of me than I had thought. I told security I would be fine but, I shook shake like a leaf – more like quaking aspens in Colorado, I did that perfectly. We took the elevator up to Turn 2. We enjoyed a meal of delicious de-veined shrimp with sides. Relaxing meal. But I could not walk as long a distance afterwards. So, I hopped from slot machine to slot machine, not exactly hopping due to my pain, Mike helping me until I saw a machine I would play. Mike was my hero again.
Security had looked at their video, and then they found me…my card in a machine, etcetera. I asked how the other woman was, and he said she was detained by security and nothing more. He had to fill out a report on what happened for me to sign. The KCK fire department and EMS arrived, to check me out. My blood pressure was up. Saturations okay. Never hit my head. Declined ride to KU Med ER. I would have had a good eight hour or more wait to be seen and EMS agreed.
So, lesson learned. DON’T WEAR YOUR HAIR DOWN.
BIGGEST LESSON? Jesus was with us the entire time. So many things could have happened but did not. Jesus was with us every step of the way. He still is. He always will be. Please – no nasty comments if you do not believe in Christ. Thank you.
Sometimes the only way to truly start over is to move. That’s exactly what Elaina Samuels and her unruly band of cohorts decided to do. Elaina, Tawny, Grace, and Steph bought a bed and breakfast in Maine. The trip from Cherry Ridge, Ohio to Portland is a wild and crazy ride, filled with things they never could have foreseen. In this adventure, there’s laughter, tears, doubt, and a little danger thrown in to keep them on their toes. Will this relocation to the northeast be the key to real happiness? Or will it test their friendship to the breaking point?
My Review:
I loved this rom-com more than book one. With book three, the ladies have dug deeper into their respective insecurities and have come out on the winning side! They each have issues, but they made a decision to relocate to Maine of all places. I hear Stephen King likes Maine as well. The sauciness works, it all works.
Lily Lawson, the ‘non poetry-lovers poet’, shares her positive world view in this uplifting third collection of her relatable, contemporary Rainbow series.
‘ … these poems purport to focus on the emotions conjured up for the author by the color yellow: happiness and positivity — which they do, but I found a different list of words running through my head as I worked my way through this slim volume: endurance, resilience, and hope tempered with acceptance. Lawson has a way of distilling complex emotions into phrases that stay with the reader.’
‘Is the human spirit indefatigable?
I am never sure, but Lily Lawson has gone some way to persuading me in this collection of poems exploring love, hope, the tangled emotions that bind us together, and the beauty of the world if only we open our eyes. To that extent, the third book in her Rainbow poetry collection is aptly titled “Yellow,” that colour evoking sunshine and flowers, happiness and honey. Yet some of these words will pierce your heart, which is fair; for how do we fully appreciate sunbeams on our faces if we have not experienced dark midnights of the soul?’
Yellow. What does yellow mean to you? What does yellow say to you? I have a friend who loved yellow and was sunny inside and out. I miss her. Some of the poems within give pause to reflect on my friend and my life. Yellow is an abundance of light from Him above. Yellow is hope everlasting.
Fiona Quinn arrives at her parent’s home in Daytona, Florida for a short visit only to be informed that their usually quiet retirement community has been besieged with robberies—cash, jewelry, and more. Her mom told all the neighbors Fiona is a wiz at catching bad guys. Yikes! Can Fiona crack the case? Hopefully, but what’s an amateur sleuth supposed to do when her Maltese, Harriet, shows up decked out in the stolen goods? Double yikes! Join Fiona, her parents, Harriet, and some pretty crazy old ladies for a real jewel of a quick mystery!
What a wonderful short mystery, romance, little dogs, and lemon meringue pie book! Okay, so those elements are included in this story and burglaries in abundance. I say burglary as no one was home when their items were stolen. Had they been home, then robbery is the correct term. This was a great short story and I imagined a little Maltese dressed up in…must read to find out.
Capitán Cristóbal de Varga’s drive for glory and gold in 1538 Peru leads him and his army of conquistadors into a New World that refuses to be conquered. He is a man torn by life-long obsessions and knows this is his last campaign.
What he doesn’t know is that his Incan allies led by the princess Sarpay have their own furtive plans to make sure he never finds the golden city of Vilcabamba. He also doesn’t know that Héctor Valiente, the freed African slave he appointed as his lieutenant, has found a portal that will lead them all into a world that will challenge his deepest beliefs. And what he can’t possibly know is that this world will trap him in a war between two eternal enemies, leading him to question everything he has devoted his life to – his command, his Incan princess, his honor, his God.
In the end, he faces the ultimate dilemma: how is it possible to battle your own obsessions . . . to conquer yourself?
Why novels don’t need subtitles
Dirk Strasser
The 2024 historical miniseries Shōgun features English, Japanese and Portuguese characters. In addition to those three languages, Dutch, Spanish, and Latin are also spoken at times. Interestingly, the only languages spoken onscreen are English and Japanese. The Portuguese, which have a significant role in the storyline, speak English, while the Japanese speak Japanese with English subtitles. The obvious question is why? Why don’t they all speak their own language with the appropriate subtitles for the audience? Or why don’t they all speak English?
The answer to this is worth exploring.
Shōgun (both the original historical novel and the current series) is based on real historical events and people. It’s essentially a story about the collision of two cultures, and cultures are intrinsically tied to their languages. John Blackthorne is the first Englishman to ever set foot on Japan. He can’t speak a word of Japanese and the Japanese characters can’t speak any English. This presents a whole lot of potential plot pitfalls. One way around it is for one or more of the characters to learn the other’s language, but that takes time and the urgency of the action can dissipate. Learning a new language as an adult is hard. And assuming you want to have a fairly sophisticated interchange between your characters, it would be a monumental task for anyone to get to that level without years of hard work and instruction.
The alternative solution the Shōgun filmmakers came up with was to have a third intermediary language, in this case Portuguese, that both could speak. This was both historically authentic, and it still allowed audiences to access the story seamlessly. But more than that, this use of an intermediary language and the various exchanges involving translation became crucial plot points.
Historical drama and historical novels both have the problem of needing to balance authenticity with accessibility, but screen drama and narrative fiction are different mediums, and the screenwriter and the novelist have different tools at their disposal when it comes to language. The major distinction is that novelists can’t use subtitles.
Much of the dramatic tension in Shōgun came from the fact that by reading the subtitles, the audience are aware of things that the characters were oblivious to. The subtitles became central to the plot rather than just being a mechanism for getting the viewers to understand what was happening. The character of Mariko acts as Blackthorne’s interpreter for much of the series, but we can see from the subtitles that she often protects him by moderating what he says with her translation, while at other times she omits details in her own self-interest.
When I was writing my historical fantasy novel Conquist and its screenplay in tandem, I became hyper aware of the differences in the ways I was able to treat languages. The main characters in Conquist are either Spanish or Incan, but since 1538 was quite some time after first contact, there was some understanding of each other’s languages.
Dealing with Spanish and the Incan language Quechua was relatively straightforward, but I had the extra complication of first contact with two fantasy races, the duende and the ñakaqs., each with their own languages. In an early draft I had the duende have the magical ability to instantly learn other languages and the ñakaqs able to learn languages quickly—but it just didn’t feel right. I knew it was a cop out. You can’t get away with it in a historical fantasy which depends on the authenticity of the setting and is grounded in a sense of reality despite its fantasy elements.
I couldn’t simply use a convenient plot device. I had to go back to the drawing board. In the end, I restructured the plot significantly so that Quechua became the intermediary language that crossed over with the others. This transformed the plot and deepened the world-building. The novel and the screenplay ended up being much better because I was forced to find a solution to how the characters could realistically communicate with each other.
As an example of the relative ease of writing subtitles in a screenplay, here’s a scene opening from Conquist:
INT. HUARCAY’S TENT – DAY
Huarcay and Sarpay sit on a nest of embroidered cushions surrounded by servants. Musicians play bone flutes and drums as a storm howls outside. They speak in Quechua, SUBTITLED:
SARPAY
You know these Spaniards are just
men under all that hair.
Huarcay sips a cup of tea raised to his mouth by a servant.
So, in this scene the two characters on screen are actually speaking Quechua with English subtitles. In the novel version they are speaking English and there is no comment about what language they are speaking. Context and convention indicate that they are speaking in their own language.
The filmed version would feel authentic, but how do you make the novel version provide a similar level of authenticity?
My feeling is when writing a historical novel, the representation of languages other than English needs to be unobtrusive. It shouldn’t interrupt the flow. The reader shouldn’t be pulled out of the story. However, I feel it’s best to try to achieve this while still giving a perception that the character isn’t speaking in English. How do you achieve the suspension of disbelief as far the actual language being spoken is concerned? My solution in Conquist, where most of the characters are Spanish, is to use some relevant Spanish words, usually ones that are similar enough in English that the reader can guess the meaning from the context, for example ‘entrada’ instead of ‘entrance’. I also have one of the characters swearing in Spanish, where it’s clear that he is swearing even if you don’t actually know what the word means. When a character isn’t speaking their first language, I also avoid contractions like “didn’t” and “wouldn’t”, using instead the more formal-sounding “did not” and “would not”.
I wanted Cristóbal’s diary entries to be in a totally different style to the rest of the book. My aim was to have the reader in two minds as to whether the diary had actually been found in the archives of a Peruvian museum. Based on a couple of reviews of Conquist I’ve read, I think I achieved that. Hopefully my approach strikes the right balance between authenticity and accessibility.
The key to verisimilitude in narrative fiction lies in the very nature of reading. Novels, of course, play out in your head, while films play out on an external screen. When prompted in the right way, the mind can achieve some quite striking effects. One of these helps you to convince yourself that characters are speaking in another language. Who needs subtitles when the magic of reading does it for you?
Dirk Strasser’s epic fantasy trilogy The Books of Ascension—Zenith, Equinox and Eclipse—was published in German and English, and his short stories have been translated into several European languages. “The Doppelgänger Effect” appeared in the World Fantasy Award-winning anthology Dreaming Down Under. He is the co-editor of Australia’s premier science-fiction and fantasy magazine, Aurealis.
Dirk was born in Germany but has lived most of his life in Australia. He has written a series of best-selling school textbooks, trekked the Inca trail to Machu Picchu and studied Renaissance history. “Conquist” was first published as a short story in the anthology Dreaming Again (HarperCollins). The serialized version of Conquist was a finalist in the Aurealis Awards Best Fantasy Novel category. Dirk’s screenplay version of Conquist won the Wildsound Fantasy/Sci-Fi Festival Best Scene Reading Award and was a featured finalist in the Cinequest Film & Creativity Festival and the Creative World Awards.
Yikes! Fiona’s been having a recurring nightmare and it’s driving her to distraction—so much so that she’s allowed her kooky neighbor, Astrid Dingle, to search for the answer through her crystal ball. What could be the cause of the dream, and what lengths will Fiona go to get to the crux of it all? You’ll be chasing dreams with Fiona, Detective Landry and Astrid in this fun quick mystery!
This book was a delightful, short, and hilarious read. The author managed to impart fear into me via snakes, and bouts of laughing at antics of young children.
When the past and present collide, how can she step into her future?
All eighteen-year-old Rachel Webster has to worry about is keeping her mum and dad off her back. That is until she accidentally uncovers paperwork revealing she’s adopted.
That’s when things begin to spiral. A new revelation surfaces, the coil tightens, and Rachel’s entire world is under threat.
She’s dazzled by hope but has she opened Pandora’s box?
Peggy Davies is happily married with two children and her life is almost complete. When a teenager makes contact out of the blue, she believes her prayers have been answered.
That is until her dream turns into a nightmare and her family is in danger of being destroyed.
A 1970s family drama centring around strong women, love, and friendship.
Perfect for Reading-Group Fiction
Read as a standalone or as the first book in the trilogy
My Review:
Well. This book is totally a triangle and in an unexpected way. Where to begin? One family with money and one with less. One daughter adopted and searched for her natural parents. Young couples in love and mix in a bit of mental illness to be dealt with, an eating disorder that has killed women and girls in real life – think Karen Carpenter, and the nuances of the time period and clothing styles. Did I mention love? Abundant love, yet despair at the same time. The author takes the reader into this story and makes the reader experience the love, hurt, pain, despair, anger, and all other feelings. Those are qualities that make a book great!
Life on Molly is a travel and lifestyle blog. I am a normal girl with many passions. I am an explorer of new places, a learner of new languages, creator of my ambitions, blogger, and a good pal. This blog is my little corner of the world where I am able to share my adventures with you and inspire you to live a life full of purpose.
When Angels Fly 