Alaskan Grown Freelance Writer 🤍 Lover of Prose
Former Deckhand & Barista 🤍 Always a Pleaser & Eggshell-Walker
Lifelong Animal Lover & Whisperer 🤍 Ever the Student & Seeker
Traveler 🤍 Dreamer 🤍 Wanderer
Happily Lost 🤍 Luckily in Love
Plagiarism: What's the Harm, and Why You Should Care
Author's Note: Most of the information contained within this article has been obtained through my years of experience in academic and professional settings, with no particular source to be cited. However, I have included Wikipedia and Oxford University under the "Sources" section at the bottom, because they were used to confirm that my assertions were accurate, and because they are excellent sources for anyone looking to understand this topic more fully.
All For Love - A Letter to My Fellow Musketeers
🖤 Author's Note: The above song's importance will reveal itself quickly in the following narrative. In the meantime, please enjoy one of the greatest collaborations the music industry has ever seen... My favorite song, sung by three of the greatest musicians of all time. (Hint: the actual SONG starts at a MINUTE in...)
A Stick, a Rock, and a Can of Pepper Spray
There are moments in each of our lives that we know could have played out differently. In some cases, different would have been better, and we spend so long torturing ourselves with regret over what might have been. Yet there are other moments that come and pass, leaving us feeling lucky and blessed that they worked out the way they did.
I Will Keep Wearing A Smile
"You're Never Fully Dressed Without a Smile" by Sia 🖤 Before I go into the ways that I do and will continue to strive to build inclusivity and kindness in the world, I have to be honest here and admit that for religious reasons, I practice strict political neutrality and do not become involved in political or social movements of any kind. In fact, I don’t even watch the news as it's too depressing and frightening for me with all of its talk of terror and tragedy, and I simply cannot bring myself to trust the fake, fixed smiles and carefully calculated frowns of those who claim to speak the truth.
She Colored My World With Her Music
Very early in my life, my mother introduced to me the necessity of good music. She was a young mother, and so even as we both grow older, our musical interests have never really divided. For a graduation gift, I received tickets to my first concert, featuring Reel Big Fish with Catch-22 and a few other awesome but lesser-known bands, and my mom was right there next to me, skanking it up in her clogs.
Goodbye to Owls & Old Flames
***** Scree! Scree! I snapped my eyes open, my body suddenly becoming flooded with adrenaline as the owl screeched and awoke me from my drug-induced slumber. My head ached, and there was a searing pain in the back of my right thigh. I squeezed my eyes shut and tried to find some clarity, but when I opened them again, I was still sitting on the floor of an old barn with my hands and legs bound with tape, and I had to embrace the reality of my situation – I was screwed.
The Glass Owl
*** Lisa’s long fingers delicately caress and clutch the small figurine that rests against her chest as she tries to hold back tears that threaten to fall, but the wounds are still too deep and the memories too close. Her eyes burn against her closed lids, and she opens her eyes, letting the tears drip slowly down her cheeks. Her face has been graced with many a wrinkle and line since that day all those many years ago when she held the small, glass owl for the first time.
This Crap Stinks! - An Index of My Worst Pieces on Vocal
I know what you're thinking. But yes. You did read that title right. It seems to be the trend for creators to create an index of their work for their readers to be able to easily find a body of work or similar genre. As my one-year anniversary of writing on Vocal approaches, I thought I would take the opposite approach and create an index of all the pieces I've written that I readily acknowledge truly belong in the recycling bin!
The Words I Never Got to Say
Dear Bob, It's such a simple name you have. Almost forgettable to some. Not even a whole name, really, now that I think about it and look back. I suppose once upon a time, you were a Robert to some, but to me, you will always be Bob, and I will never forget that name - so simple and plain and pure. Because of you, my dear, dear man, I will always think it my favorite name. I can't think of a "Bob" that I have not liked, but then again, I suppose I might be just a tad biased. Whenever I hear that name, I think of only one thing. I think of you, old friend, and of all the things you were to me. You were so much more than my Bible teacher and friend. You were a grandfather to me. A father, and yes. I'll say it again - a friend. You were the first positive male influence in my life. The only man I felt safe with, and the one man I knew I that could trust. I say these words now, but I'm not sure you would understand just how powerful those words are for me to say. I didn't know all of this, myself back then. I didn't know it all last week. You were a gift to me in so many ways, and I wish I had known how to say these things all those years ago. You spent time with me - helping me, teaching me, believing in me. You called me "a tryer," and I don't know if you meant for it to be some extraordinary moment in my life, but that is precisely what it was. Just as you were simple and safe but always insightful and full of wisdom for me, your words became so much more than just a brief and simple observation you once made of me. Those simple, unassuming words became like a mantra in my head. Like someone who places a sticky note on the mirror to encourage them to keep going on those dark and dreary days, I placed your words on my soul. They've pulled me up and pushed me forward when I thought I couldn't go anymore. I have lived my life on an incline, always fighting an icy uphill battle. It seems that every turn is a new obstacle to overcome, and they come faster and harder each year, somehow surprising me as they come. Still, every time I feel like giving up, I hear your words in my mind, and I am able to keep moving forward with your voice in my head. You, see, old friend, I just can't bear to disappoint you, and when I think of those words from so long ago, I know that you're there with me, telling me I can go on. "The girl's a tryer, isn't she?" I so want to be that. For you. I so want to be more than I feel in the moments of weakness and fear. You were always a source of truth and light for me, and I cannot stand for you to be a liar in the end. So, I will keep trying and trying for you, my friend. I will be the girl that you saw when I was but four, maybe five. I tell you, though, you didn't make it easy for me. You wouldn't take the easy and obvious answer, would you? You made me dig deeper. You made me work harder. You made me be better. I'm sure I never thanked you, did I? Did you know you saved my life? You saved my sister's and my mother's, too. She came to you when she had no idea what to do. He made life miserable, this much I know you knew. But he made it scary and dangerous for us, too. He left bruises on more than our souls, and you told mom what she was able to do. You helped us escape, and you probably saved his life, too. Four lives you helped to save, and I never got to say "thank you." I never saw you again, either, and it breaks my heart in two. We left so quickly, and we couldn't say where to. We ran across the country and became surrounded by no one we knew. I missed you desperately. Though, as I look back, I didn't know it was true. I was so young, old friend. I was angry and scared, and I never got to tell you what you meant to me. We went back to that place quite a few years back, now. My sister and I tried to make amends with him. I'm sure you would guess how it didn't work out so well in the end. We met at another Brother's house, though, not fools completely, at least. We asked about you and your beautiful wife named Nat. Oh, how we longed to see you and hoped you might show up. I could tell from that Brother's face that dad had fed him a line or two about us. All sorts of stories I believe he must have spread around about mom and her two girls. We disappeared without a trace, but that was your idea, wasn't it? This Brother's face changed awfully quick when we mentioned your name. And dad just dropped the bomb like it wouldn't tear us up. You'd been gone for years - both you and Nat. I never cried in public. Do you remember that about me? Even as a child, I wouldn't let the tears fall, no matter what transpired. But as he spoke those words so cruel and full of evil, I couldn't hold it in. We cried for you, our friend. What a cherished man you were. He fetched us a tissue, his face changing as he saw. Just the difference between the two girls who sat crying over you, and the man who acted like it was nothing new. He retrieved the memorial program from the day they'd said goodbye to you, and he and his wife told us the story of how you left the world the way you'd lived. You were fixing a fence and got electrocuted, and Nat rushed over to you. She tried to help in her fear and grief, and she went away with you. It's been a couple decades now - since I heard the truth about you. I still cry when I think of all the things you did for us. How many others did you save in the same way? To how many others did you show true love and loyalty? I know this for certain, at least. You called me "a tryer," and I never said "thank you." I wanted you to know, dear, dear man, just how much it meant to me. How much you meant to me. I've lived my life with your words in my mind and on my heart. And even though, I never got to tell you back then, I needed you to know. Just one more thing I'd like to say to you. I wait for the day when these words I'll speak and you'll hear: You were so much more than my Bible teacher in the end. You were my grandfather and hero, and you were my first true friend. I lived my life, trying to honor you, and I know what was behind those three words you said back then. "She's a tryer," you said. The words I should have said to you back then, I didn't. But you were so wise, I think you must have known. I hope you did, but if not, I'll say them now. Thank you, my Brother, my father, my teacher, my friend. I loved you each and every day. Since I was a child and all the way until the end. I love you, too, my dear, dear, old friend. Thank you for never giving up on me. Love, The girl who tried. ❤