I AM THE MASTER OF MY WORDS, THE CAPTAIN OF MY BOOK PICKS: WEEK 3

It's only been in the last few years that I have come to realize that conflict is often an opportunity cleverly disguised. When I was in school, my bus ride was chock full of opportunities. 

My brothers and I rode with two families made up of multiple siblings. As individuals, they were dumb as rocks, but as a group, both clans had figured out that because of their numbers, they could rule the bus. 

The Murphy's had the back, taking the seats on the wheels. Those jolted the most when the bus driver sped over bumps and curbs on the turns, sending her passengers high into the air. In those seats, and at the right speed, a kid's head could graze the ceiling of the bus. Most stared longingly at Danny and Richie and their two freckled sisters as they hooted and cursed happily when we hit a particularly potholed road and almost tipped over sideways.

The Greens were made up of two twin sisters, a brother, and a cousin that lived with them. They took the coveted front seats, glaring menacingly at anyone who dared to linger too long in front of them before moving to the middle of the bus...the section reserved for the weak, and families of less than four. Our Adreneline Junkie driver only muttered the occasional, "Shut up", when The Greens would put each other and some unsuspecting lower classmen in headlocks for most of the ride. 

Almost always, I was trapped in my own head, thinking mostly about books or where I'd ride my bike after school, and so much of what went on around me went unnoticed and I was left alone.
My two brothers were much more sociable, joking around and having fun, but sometimes not observing the clearly laid borders around the midsection of the vehicle. This, along with my older brother's temporary speech impediment, would sometimes cause problems for them.

One day, we hadn't even left the school parking lot when Richie M decided to get a jump on pushing around the younger kids. He started with my older brother...the lover, not the fighter...to this day, he avoids confrontation, that is, after he starts it. That afternoon was no different. He was horsing around with his buddies, and said something indirectly about Richie. He knew that my brother was talking about him and he heard the difficultly with which he got it out (speech impediment). Richie ripped into his prey like a raccoon, inspecting its food roughly before tearing it to shreds and eating it. 

I had just boarded, and heard the verbal abuse as I made my way toward the back. This was not the first time he had made fun of my brother, but it was the first time I let myself get involved. Richie was much older than both of us.

When was he finally going to leave the younger ones alone? 

Without a word, I walked up to him and punched him in the face. He never saw it coming and was shocked to find that he was bleeding. So much. 

In that brief moment of  stunned silence, I said, "You'd better stay away from my brother from now on." I sounded like Minnie Mouse. My tiny voice would've been laughable except for the crimson mess dripping from his nose and cheek where my nail had caught his skin. 

No one dared to move...but Richie. More quickly than I could react, he grabbed my head and slammed it repeatedly into the window. His younger brother Danny was my age and yelled, "Rich! She's a girl!" 

I resisted, so the blows weren't as hard as they could be, but it still hurt as much as if he was hitting me with a metal pipe. As my head rocked back and forth, I thought of what to do. I knew that this was basically like making a first impression, and my reaction would shape the next few years my brothers and I had to spend with this goon, so I made a decision. 

When he was done brutalizing me...I did nothing. Wiping a thick clot of blood that hung from his nose with the back of his hand, he stepped back to survey the damage, pleased with how he had overpowered me. 

I stared at him blankly for a few seconds. 

My eyes did not fill with uncontrollable tears because after years of my mother attacking my scalp with a hairbrush, I had learned to channel pain and anxiety into my feet. 

The entire bus was silent. Even the driver stood frozen next to her seat, unable to pull her eyes away. Fear and shame cloaked them all. Not one person had tried to stop him from hurting me. 

In those quiet moments, I saw it all clearly and drew strength from the pride I felt in standing up to this creepy little bully boy. Although my head pounded and I felt as though I might pass out, I smiled. And then I laughed. When he heard me ask, "That's it?", he shook his head and muttered, "You're fucking crazy", before falling into his seat, exhausted and ready to nurse his bruised face. 

That family was done with us. As far as they were concerned, we didn't exist anymore, to torment or otherwise.

The cousin of The Greens had in it for my younger brother. Michael would bother him every day and my brother did a decent job of ignoring him until one day when he just had had enough. 

They decided to get off at Michael's stop and duke it out. I told my brother not to, but he shook me off and insisted that he was going to shut this kid up. 

I told him that I would be coming too, but he warned me to stay out of it. 

I promised that I would....until Michael got my brother in a headlock that he couldn't get out of. As Michael spun around, dragging my brother's body with him, our sibling eyes met and I snapped. I lunged from the far corner of the lawn, where I had promised to stay, and grabbed Michael's hair. The surprise and pain made him instantly release my brother and I watched my younger sibling fall in a heap, trying to catch his breath. 

The sight of him struggling for air took me out of my rage and I realized that this was an optimal teaching moment. The lesson in my young head was, if you push, expect to get pushed back.

I kept my grip on Michael's hair and as I punched him in the face, each blow was accented with a word. You. Will. Never. Come. Near. My. Brother. Again. Or. I. Will. Kill. You.

My brother pulled me off of him and we left Michael on his front walk, bleeding and trying to cry through ragged breaths. 

When his mother pounded on our door an hour later and complained about what my brother had done to her "baby", my mother just laughed and said, "My DAUGHTER beat your son up. Maybe now he'll stop bullying everyone. Get the hell off my lawn before I call the police." Then she shut the door in their faces. Problem solved.

With each challenge (and in the case of this week's pick, when we're bullied) we have the potential to learn something about ourselves: How far is too far? How do I handle tough situations? Maybe I need anger management counseling after all...

Welcome to WEEK 3:
 
The rules:
1. Book discussion comments are left on this site

2. Comments should only be about the BOOK and in no way be offensive or degrading to any person or persons.

3. It's ok to jump into the club late. Join us on any day of any week. BUT if, for example, you are starting with SUKI on WEEK 3, DO NOT READ THE DISCUSSION COMMENTS. Stop after you get to the link to purchase the book or you may ruin the story for yourself. I cannot stress this enough.


MY TWO FLAGS 
by Javier A. Robayo               

THE SYNOPSIS:  
Antonio Amaya’s life revolved around his family, his friends, and one dream: to live in the United States. When the dream becomes reality, the drastic change creates daunting challenges.
Antonio endures exclusion and disdain from his new schoolmates by turning his disillusionment inward. Yearning to belong, he fills the pages of his notebook in the hopes of learning English.
But how does a thirteen-year-old overcome language barriers, racial slurs, and bullying while hiding his desire to return to his country from his parents, who have given up everything to live under two flags?

THE REVIEW:
Readers, welcome back Tony Amaya, a fickle character from Mr. Robayo's previous books, THE GAZE and THE NEXT CHAPTER. In MY TWO FLAGS, we learn about Tony's life before he meets Samantha, Gwen, and everyone's heartthrob, Lewis. 

Tony (Antonio) himself, narrates how he landed in the country that would change him and eventually lead him to his future with Gwen and his daughters.

As always, Javier's stories are well written and meaningful, but this book will hopefully change your perspective about being the "new kid" and how we view people who are "different". One of the things I liked most, was that I think this book does a wonderful job of highlighting both sides of that situation. 

Tony arrives in the U.S. with expectations that are not necessarily met. In some cases he is surprised, but in others, he is disappointed and angered by differences between the two countries. He forms impressions that are not very good, based on limited knowledge and experience of our culture. 

At the same time, many of his fellow students approach him in the same way...not really knowing him or who he is or why he behaves as he does, but quick to form opinions and have extreme reactions to his very existence.

I was deeply moved by two scenes in particular and would urge readers to pay close attention and put themselves in Antonio's place as you read them:

1. His struggle to order food from McDonalds. If you think there's nothing to buying a value meal, try doing it in China. In Chinese.
2.The meeting between the guidance counselor, his Spanish teacher, and Antonio himself after he is busted for "fighting". There is no way to know what is going on inside of someone unless you take the time to ask. And listen.

DISCUSSION PROMPTS:
Have you ever been pushed to your limit? Can you remember ever being a bully or having been the victim of a bully? After reading this book, do you find yourself considering someone else's perspective before passing judgement?

ORDER THE BOOK:
On Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/My-Two-Flags-ebook/dp/B00C46TJAA
On Barnes and Noble: http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/my-two-flags-javier-robayo/1114981257?ean=2940016602585
In Print: http://www.javierrobayoauthor.com/my-two-flags.html


AND THE WINNERS ARE:
Thank you to Mary Margaret Tucker and Stacey Roberts for doing your homework this week. They will both receive a free copy of MY WAY by David P Perlmutter and Mary Margaret  can show off her SUKI mother/daughter bracelet at any event, 
compliments of THE SHINY BEAD.

MORE GREAT BOOK CLUB PICKS BY INDIE AUTHORS:

SUKI:

http://simplystick.blogspot.com/2013/06/summer-reading-book-club-week-1.html 

WRONG PLACE, WRONG TIME:


http://simplystick.blogspot.com/2013/06/friends-dont-let-friends-read-alone.html?showComment=1430071350264


OCTOBER SNOW:

http://simplystick.blogspot.com/2014/06/life-is-like-blanket-of-snow.html?showComment=1430071350264

TRAILER TRASH, WITH A GIRL'S NAME:

http://simplystick.blogspot.com/2014/10/you-know-youre-modern-day-trailer-trash.html

MOORE THAN MEETS THE EYE:

http://simplystick.blogspot.com/2014/09/theres-always-another-story.html

WELCOME TO HEIDI:

http://simplystick.blogspot.com/2014/06/welcome-to-must-read.html

KAFE CASTRO:

http://simplystick.blogspot.com/2013/08/why-are-you-so-serious-do-it-kafe.html

BROKEN ANGEL:

http://simplystick.blogspot.com/2012/09/broken-angel-review.html

DEJA DREW:

http://simplystick.blogspot.com/2012/08/deja-drew-excerpt.html

THE GAZE:

http://simplystick.blogspot.com/2012/05/gaze-by-javier-arobayoyay-or-nay.html

PGB:

http://simplystick.blogspot.com/2012/05/javier-robayo-author-of-gaze-steps-in.html

HAUNTED HOUSE, HAUNTED LIFE:

http://simplystick.blogspot.com/2014/10/haunted-house-haunted-life.html



CF Winn is the author of  The COFFEE BREAK SERIES, a hilarious group of short stories meant to be read while on a break or in the waiting room of a doctor's office. Her first novella, SUKI, has been grabbing hearts and hugging souls all over the United States.

YOLO or EPIC FAIL??

I'm just going to come right out and say it: Size DOES matter.

In fact, there's nothing more important...that is, if you're talking about the amount of joy in your life.

I'm not trying to play games though. I honestly had this epiphany while I was listening to a radio show talk about penis size.
                                                                             

Don't judge.        
Instead try and follow my stream of consciousness:
-Men from Ecuador made the TOP TEN LIST of "Pleasantly Packing"
-The literal translation of Ecuador is Equator
-LA MITAD DEL MUNDO is located in Ecuador and tourists can straddle the Equator there
-LA MITAD DEL MUNDO is one of the places I want to visit before I die
-Bucket List

I know what you're thinking.

The glaringly obvious question is: Why isn't having a meaningless, but passionate night with a man from Ecuador on my bucket list?
Answer: It's MY list. Go make your own.

I mean that. No matter how old you are, go make that bucket list...and keep up with it. Some things will change, but others... not so much.
                                                                     

What's on your list?

If you're young, you think you won't have the same dreams and goals as when you're my age...but, when I was twelve, owning a pair of designer jeans and being popular would have done it... and now, FITTING into ANY jeans comfortably, and seeing more than one "like" on a Facebook post (from my mom) keeps me going each morning.

Seize the moment.

It was Homecoming Weekend. On Friday I went to the Pep Rally and had a great time watching all of the talented performances and cheering for the school teams as they were announced.

Afterwards, I found out that the Boys Varsity Volleyball Team was going on a "Fast Food Fiesta". They were going to hit up Taco Bell, McDonalds, Wendy's, etc to buy food, take pics, and then go back to one location, eat it all, and probably puke. These guys were going to have a fun (and gross!) story to tell their kids and grandkids later in life.

I, on the other hand, was going to take three Juniors over to the Firehouse to build their float, then go home with my two Middle-Schoolers, eat whatever stale Cheez-It crumbs they left on the bottom of the box for me, and probably fall asleep on the couch while watching a DVR'd episode of Greys Anatomy.                                    

Is he still breathing?

When faced with a reality as bleak as that, it was kind of hard not to feel like an Epic Fail.

Never a victim, I decided then and there, that I was not going out like that. I told the Juniors that next year, when they are Seniors, on Homecoming weekend, we're going to rent a party van, and that we'll be the ones overeating and puking our guts out. They loved the idea. We agreed to start our "Tour of Trans Fat" at Starbucks, and end at Auntie Anne's, even if it meant driving all the way to the Mall.

Wait. Pause.

As soon as I said, Starbucks, we all felt a "contact rush" and got very excited. The girls would be up late putting the finishing touches on the class float, so we decided to go on a practice run and get some caffeine.

And then it happened.

A stroke of brilliance...                          

Need caffeine stat!

I told them that I would drive them to get some Starbucks, but if we saw the Boys Varsity Volleyball Team, along the way, I would pull over in the parking lot of the fast food joint they were at. I wanted them to get out and steal some food from the boys for me...well, all that talk about burgers and tacos had me kind of hungry...

Everybody was in...except for my high school daughter. Her boyfriend was on the team and she was worried that we'd embarrass him. We all boo'd her till she finally agreed that it would be ok as long as she wasn't the one to take his food. I haven't been out of school so long that I don't remember the power of peer pressure...

And so we drove...

We spotted the boys about a block from Starbucks. They were on the street, no food in hand. We beeped and yelled to them, but drove on. The scent of roasted coffee beans was just too strong to resist... and besides, they had nothing for us to eat.

And just as we passed them, my daughter's boyfriend lifted his shirt and exposed his chest...I'm sure that was his way of saying, "You guys are so cool!"

But then, after we loaded up on java heaven...we drove up on them again...

This time they were in Burger King. My stomach screamed.

I pulled into BK's parking lot and informed my crew, "This is not a drill!"

My soldiers readied themselves and I gave them their instructions: "Your mission, if you choose to accept it is onion rings".

I was confident that my Advanced Placement kids were quick and would be up for the challenge...

Instead...

Both of my daughters and (teen) Christina headed straight for the playground. (The one that's there for the toddlers who pick their noses then ride the never ending slide, leaving a trail of green slimy booger on the plastic behind them.)

Kayla, however, charged the counter and spotted the sack of onion rings in Boyfriend's hand. She grabbed for it and when the struggle ensued, she looked around for back up. It was then that she realized that she'd been left to battle alone. Max and I were in the car, parking and getting the camera ready so we could document our victory.

I rushed into an ugly scene.   
           

Onion rings make some of us crazy

Some woman was telling the girls that they had to get out of the playground room and leave the Burger King. Boyfriend had wrestled the onion rings out of Kayla's hands and was complaining that she had crushed them, slyly guaranteeing himself a second set for free.

I pretended to be the older sister, afraid for the punishment my younger siblings would surely receive when they got home if they didn't start behaving. (I felt compelled to explain to the woman that they kept mistakenly calling me "Mom" because they were so traumatized by the incident)

When we got back into the car, we had a choice to make. We could call the night an Epic Fail because we hadn't succeeded in our mission, or we could open the windows and scream "YOLO!" and startle everyone into living their lives and having fun.

Time to reevaluate.

After that weekend I can say that those who want to label teens as loud, obnoxious, and trouble, might want to step back in time a bit and join in:

Thanks to the Juniors, on Friday night I got to be 16 again, just enjoying friends, freedom, and fun.

On Saturday, the tailgaters that offered me "soda" and high fives at the Homecoming Parade took me back to 21, the age of young adulthood, where independence and responsibility required careful balance, but offered much joy.

And as for the guy who followed me into 7-11 and gave me his number, all I can say is, thanks for showing me that it's possible to still have "it"...at any age.

Death is the ultimate equalizer. 

No matter who or what you were here, you'll still die.

There's a passage from "The Untethered Soul" that talks about how at the moment of death, one might say something like, "But Death, I need more time!"
And Death might answer, "Just this past year, I gave you 365 days. What did you do with it?"

Take a moment...what DID you do with it?

CF Winn is the award-winning author of The COFFEE BREAK SERIES, a quirky group of short stories meant to be read while on break or in the waiting room of the doctor’s office. Her first novella, SUKI, has been grabbing hearts and hugging souls all over the United States. 

You can now order SUKI in paperback at http://hopress-shorehousebooks.com/cf-winn/  or at BOOK REVUE, one of the nation’s largest independent bookstores, by email at info@bookrevue.com Learn more about SUKI at BOOK REVUE.  

Her blogs have been syndicated on multiple sites including The Masquerade Crew. More posts like these can be found at Humor Outcasts and The Patch where she is a regular contributor.  

FOLLOW me on Twitter, Facebook, Google +, and CF_Winn on Instagram.

Ding Dong The Ghostie's Here!

Anyone who knows me has heard stories about the ghosts that visit me from time to time.

I don't think that Ghosthunters from the Syfy channel will be setting up shop in my living room anytime soon, but we've had our share of strange events.

Sometimes a loved one is still looking out and leaves messages for us at just the right time.

A few years ago, while I was still married, an ex love passed away. I was flattered to learn that he was thinking of me on Valentine's Day, even in death. Without giving up too many details, he opened all of the cabinet doors in my kitchen and turned all of the pictures around on the walls in my hallway.

My then-husband discovered the Valentine's visit as I slept and he snuck into the house with a single red rose for me. Unfortunately, my ex's stunt upstaged my husband's romantic gesture, but in the end, I knew exactly why he had chosen to reach out from beyond the grave.

And sometimes, I think they just like to have fun with us.

A few months later, I was leaving the house with my son Max, a friend of Max's, and my daughter, Bella. My other daughter, Ali, was (as most teenagers are on the weekends) still in bed.

The boys went out the door and straight to the car. Bellie and I walked out together. I held the door for her and as she stepped over the threshold, we heard a doorbell from within the house.

Bella loves to ring our doorbell a million times for no reason, so of course I accused her of doing it although I knew better.

She screamed, "OMG Mom! You saw me walk right past it!"
She was right.
I asked the boys if they had rung it really quickly when they went out. They looked at me like I was crazy before answering in the negative.
I knew it wasn't them.
I called in to the house, "Hey Ali! Did you just hear the doorbell?"  

She answered, "Yes."
"Did it sound like our doorbell normally sounds?" I asked.
"No, it didn't," she answered, and Bella nodded in agreement next to me.

My doorbell makes a high pitched DING DONG noise. The sound we heard was a low DING only.

It's all about priorities.

If we hadn't been in a rush to get some McGriddles and Starbucks, I might have invited our visitor in to haunt us some more, but instead I closed the door and locked it - maybe whoever it was could figure out how to get Ali up so she could join us in the land of the living.


Check out a sneak peek from my latest book, HAUNTED HOUSE...HAUNTED LIFE, which was inspired by real events like this one: http://simplystick.blogspot.com/2014/10/haunted-house-haunted-life.html

CF Winn is the award-winning author of The COFFEE BREAK SERIES, a quirky group of short stories meant to be read while on break or in the waiting room of the doctor’s office. Her first novella, SUKI, has been grabbing hearts and hugging souls all over the United States. 

You can now order SUKI in paperback at http://hopress-shorehousebooks.com/cf-winn/  or at BOOK REVUE, one of the nation’s largest independent bookstores, by email at info@bookrevue.com Learn more about SUKI at BOOK REVUE. 

CF Winn is the founder of Winning! Publications, a firm specializing in editing and promotion services for authors. Her latest project is the just released Trailer Trash, With a Girl’s Name, a hilarious and heartwarming story of a boy saddled with a girl’s name and forced into a nomadic existence. Order it now: http://www.amazon.com/Trailer-Trash-With-Girls-Name-ebook/dp/B00IX0MIAO