With the ocean as my viewPoem about life titled Pondering
I ponder life with renew
The pleasures it has brought
The pain it has wrought

The times of sorrow and dismay
A life of play

Gentle breeze tickles my legs
The ocean crashing its waves
Changes occurring each second
The memories they beckon

This time to ponder and reflect
Of life and all its effect
The joys, the sorrows,
The ups and downs

My life today is not a frown
More a smile wide and reaching
Of the view that’s life teaching

Me to be aware
Of life’s pleasure as I stare
With the ocean as my view
I ponder life with renew.

© December 29, 2011, Patricia L. Atchison

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While I was in Maui, I did some journal writing. Enjoy!

Today I am the explorer seeing a different life, wanting to spread my wings and fly over the ocean. Today I shall be a seagull allowing the wind to push and shove me over the tides. My eyes scan the water for morsels of food. I am drawn to the motion and the treasures galore that the water of earth sends to shore. Each churning wave ruffles the sands of time allowing new treasure to be unearthed.

Lava rock beach in Hana MauiI am the water now, full of energy and a force to be reckoned with. Surging with life, I follow the rhythm of wind and earth shuddering great waves of energy. Flowing tides speak language centuries old, cutting a path of least resistance, breaking down lava that stands in my way. I can be calm, but for now I have power. I am strong, relentless, changing with each moment, churning, rushing, rising, crashing, and slashing. I am the water, the ocean.

The two meld, the seagull and the waves. Each giving and taking life, following the natural rhythm of nature. It’s perfect, being an explorer. (December 29, 2011)

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A heartwarming children’s story by Patricia L. Atchison (ages 8 & up)

Dr. Peterson reached for a small plastic heart mounted on a rod stuck in a piece of faded chipboard. He bumped it. The heart fell off its perch and skidded across the desk dropping onto Laura’s lap.

“Ugh!” She stared at the cold plastic, seeing her own heart beating instead and shoved it away.

The doctor caught the fake heart just before it touched the floor. He set it back on the desk and pressed a button on the side of it. It snapped open, showing several red and blue colored valves inside. Dr. Peterson pointed to a blue tube in the middle of the heart.

“You had an operation to fix this valve when you were a baby. Now you’re ten, your heart works really hard as you grow older. We have to do the operation again because your heart isn’t working properly.”

Spittle flew from the doctor’s mouth. Laura watched it splash onto the desk. He rambled on explaining what would happen to Laura once they traveled to the children’s hospital in Toronto. Ignoring Dr. Peterson, she grabbed Mom’s hand, squeezing it. Mom sniffed, smiling at her. Continue reading

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What Do Teens Look For In A Good Book?

In my blog, aboutwritingandpublishing, I recently wrote about using profanity in stories. I have a moral obligation to my readers, especially when they are young adults and teens, to the type of writing I present to this age group. I have always been in conflict when presenting topics, themes and types of genres to young adults – say ages fifteen and up. Sometimes I think authors candy-coat social situations and issues that happen daily in real life. We present ‘good’ stories, with a hint of sadness.

Are we doing a disservice to the young adult reader, or are we presenting them with a world that although hints at tragedy, still provides a safe haven, which ultimately is a relief from the hardships they face on a day-to-day basis. They can escape to the character’s world, get bashed, scraped and bruised, but not feel the true pain that accosts some of them every day in their lives.

I guess if an author wants to write a ‘real-life’ story that includes profanity, terrible social issues such as abuse, rape, bullying, gangs and drugs, which includes teen characters, then this type of publication could always be destined for the adult market. This becomes a safety net for both the author and publisher, because even though many teens do turn to adult novels because they provide the realism of a true-life story, there are no implications to those who produced it.

I haven’t read many e-books yet to see if there have been changes in the writing of books for young adults and teens. A lot of e-books are self-published, so if there is no ‘corporate’ publisher to set rules and guidelines, then anything could be a go, depending on who is publishing the story and how they are marketing it.

It would be interesting to hear thoughts from young adults and teens on what they are looking for in books, as to what seems real-life and what is too candy-coated for their own good. Do they mind profanity when it enhances or goes along with real-life issues and situations?

I recently read a quote on a blog (sorry wish I had a name), that suggests as teens we want to be adults and hear, do and see adult things, and when we reach adulthood, we want to go back to the innocent days of childhood and make everything rosy and sweet again. If only… My challenging moral obligation continues to do what I have to, to protect the innocence of youth while continuing to provide a great ‘real’ story. (I welcome your thoughts, comments and suggestions.)

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Spiral Image

Cycle Of Life, An Upward and Downward Spiral

Our lives go in circles or what I like to think of as spirals – up and down movements. The cycles have to do with the things we do in our lives, what we feel, how we react, and events that run out of control. ‘They’ say we have seven year cycles. Our blood recycles its self. Our bones regenerate after a number of years. Remission from illness makes us healthy again. Good and bad luck comes and goes. Slumps happen. I guess this is what life is.

I think my life is in a cycle change. I’ve lost a few loved ones over the past several years. I’ve been through some personal issues and physical things, but I am healed now. These injuries and the changes they caused lead to depression and anxiety. I’ve come to recognize the feelings associated with what happened and definitely do not want to go down that road again if I can help it. Continue reading

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Quadding in Alberta

Muskeg Mama, Quadding Fun!

The men grunt as they off load the ATV’s from the trailer. “Urrrgh, Urrrgh.” You know the ‘Tim Taylor Tool Man’ grunt. The kids are squealing with exuberance while playing Kick the Can in the semi-dark. The women are readying the trailers. And me, I am my kid’s Mom, my husband’s soul mate and a city kid turned forest ranger for the weekend. Whose idea was it to go camping the long weekend in August? Doesn’t everyone know that garage sales are in abundance this weekend! Continue reading

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I had the opportunity to participate in the 3-Day novel Contest this past Labour Day weekend, September 3 to 5, 3-day novel contest2011. It was a choice I made, something I’ve always considered doing, but until this year never had the chance. Wow! The experience taught me a lot. It was difficult. Was it the hardest thing I have ever done in my life? Not really. Was it a challenge? Absolutely!

The challenge was not in the writing, but the perseverance. It would have been easy to say, “This sucks, it is such a beautiful weekend, I’d rather be out playing.” But at the same time there was that inner voice that said, “Let’s see what happens, press on.” Continue reading

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by Patricia L. Atchison
Copyright, December 14, 2010

Look deep into a caged animal’s eyes when they are first detained and you will know within an instant what they are feeling.

What cats say with their eyes.

My cat Pez. Let's me know what he's thinking all the time.

Their eyes look straight at me, some of them clear, happy, loving and excited, interested. Others stare in defiance, black pools of light, full of fear, helplessness, anger and rebellion. Not knowing their history, one can make a guess of where they’ve come from by their stare. If they could talk, they would say, “I am a stray, help me find my way home; I’ve been surrendered, take me back home; I’ve never had a home, but this is new and feels safe; You are seeing me for the first time, I’ve never been touched by a human.”

Cats new to the animal shelter touch your soul with their eyes. Every new shift of volunteering finds a different set of eyes watching me. It is their eyes that tell me the most, and I realized this from the very first moment I stepped into the feline holding area at the animal shelter. Continue reading

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When I am emotional, poetry comes to me quickly. The other day while listening to the call of the Loon this came to mind:

Loon Echoes

The call of the Loon
echoes through the valley wetlands.
A lonely song,
fulfilling yet sacred.
A song that grounds me to earth.
Natures heart beckoning, calling,
echoes in the early morning dew.

No matter where my life’s journey takes me.
The call of the Loon,
her echoes will forever be in my mind.
Reminding me of a time.
A time where gliding on a glassy pond,
singing with contentment is all that really matters.

The call of the Loon
echoes through the valley wetlands.
A song that grounds me to earth,
reminding me that the beauty of nature surrounds.
Calming my mind
filling my heart.

Serenity.
Peace.
Love.

The call of the Loon
brings these emotions to mind.
On a clear, crisp morning,
dew heavy on the grass.

The call of the Loon
echoes through the valley wetlands.
Her song forever in my heart.

Copyright: Patricia L. Atchison, June 14, 2011
(Ps. if it ever quits raining, I will go out and take a picture of my loon and share it here. We are surrounded by 3 different wetland areas here in the Winchell Lake area of Water Valley, Alberta, and on each pond is a loon… beautiful.)

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I’m pleased to announce that my story, Silly Bear (read complete story below), came in sharing third place in the  June Children’s genre short story contest in the LinkedIn Aspiring Writers Group. Congratulations to third place, Ronda Payne for “Canary Barf Yellow”. Second place went to Cindy Yatis for “Smally Small and His New Best Friend”, and first place was awarded to Carole Seawert for “The Best of Friends”. Congratulations to all who won!

SILLY BEAR

© 2006  by Patricia L. Atchison

“You don’t do anything.” Toby looked at his new birthday present from Grandma. The brown stuffed teddy bear sat on the chair. Its golden eyes stared straight ahead. It didn’t even blink.

Toby turned his back to the bear. What good was a toy if it didn’t do anything?

“Vroom! Vroom!” Toby pushed his bright red fire truck across the floor. He picked it up and pressed a button. Red lights flashed on and off. The siren wailed. When he set the truck back down on the floor the wheels grinded and squealed. It went around and around in circles.

Toby jumped back so it wouldn’t run over his toes, but he bumped the chair. Teddy fell onto the floor. Toby pushed at it with his foot. The bear just lay there. When the truck went around and around the bear, it didn’t do anything.

“What is this racket I hear?” Mama came into his bedroom. “OW!”

Uh-Oh! Mama had stepped on one of Toby’s wooden blocks.

“Turn off that truck. Pick up that bear. Clean up this messy room. I can’t even see the floor,” yelled Mama before she marched out of the bedroom.

Toby shut the door. He grabbed the truck and pushed the button. No more wailing siren. He reached to pick up teddy, but teddy wasn’t there. Where did he go?

Teddy wasn’t on the chair either. Toby stuffed the fire truck under the bed and looked for teddy. But the bear wasn’t under the bed. Where did he go?

Toby picked up an armful of blocks and threw them into his toy box. He looked for the bear in the box, but teddy wasn’t in there. Where did he go?

Toby thought he saw the teddy bear behind the toy box. He peeked, but there was nothing there. Where did he go?

Toby heard a thump in his closet. It must be the bear. He opened the door and squinted into the darkness, but there was nothing there. Where did he go?

Something tapped Toby on his shoulder. He spun around. There sat the bear on the chair.

“This game of hide and seek is over.” Toby scolded the teddy bear. He yawned and climbed up on his bed. There was stuff all over it too. He shoved everything out of the way and snuggled underneath the blanket.

“At least Mama didn’t yell at you,” said Toby. He grabbed the teddy bear and pulled it into his arms.

He felt the bear’s warmth. Just for fun he squeezed. The bear didn’t do anything. But the more Toby squeezed the soft bear, the better he felt.

Teddy’s paw reached up and touched Toby’s cheek. The bear’s other arm wrapped around Toby’s neck. The bear was hugging him!

“Gee, for a ‘don’t do anything bear’, you sure seem to be doing a lot,” Toby said. But teddy didn’t answer.

Toby told his new friend all about his morning. He talked about how Mama sometimes gets angry at him even when it seems he never does anything wrong. Toby looked deep into teddy’s golden eyes and saw a bright light. The bear stared right back at him. Toby knew teddy understood every word that he was saying.

“Silly silent bear,” whispered Toby and closed his eyes.

He heard the door squeak open and felt cool air on his cheeks, but Toby kept his eyes closed.

“Shhh little one, sleep then,” Mama whispered. Toby felt her lips on his cheek.

Uh-Oh! The space where teddy was became cold. Toby’s eyes flew open.

“Where did you put Silly?” he asked.

“He’s right here on the chair. Your room looks wonderful,” said Mama as she closed the door.

Toby held out his arms. “Come here Silly,” he said.

The teddy bear jumped right off the chair and flew into Toby’s open arms. He hugged the bear, but was afraid he would squish the stuffing right out of it, so he stopped.

Toby closed his eyes and whispered, “Let’s have a nap now you silly bear. It’s time to stop doing things.”

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