More and more these days, the words of Lou Rawls’ song keep playing in my head.

What’s the matter with the world?
Has the world gone mad?
There’s nothing wrong with the world.
It’s just the people that’s in it.

I watched a news item last night where a truck transporting fertilizer overturned into a ditch. People swarmed over the fertilizer, hefting bags of it away. Some brought crocus bags and wash basins to collect the spillage on the roadway.  They did not seem to be aware or care that the television cameras were pointed at them.

All of this went on while a young man lay just off the road, unconscious. Eventually, a makeshift stretcher was constructed and the man placed on it and taken to hospital. I sat in front of the television in awe. Maybe it was that the crowd simply missed him in their eagerness to get some fertilizer, after all, the accident happened near a farming community.

But I was saddened when the police officer on the scene issued an appeal for people to forget looting and instead help injured persons at the scene of an accident. In this case, there were seven.  A few posts ago, I wrote that I could remember a time when we were a more caring society.  I’m still wondering what has changed so drastically, and I’m also left to look within.

What would I do if I arrived at an accident scene and saw something that I really, really wanted? Would I be tempted to ignore the injured and grab the goodies?

What makes me different from those people I saw last night?

Nothing.

I wish we’d stop and think for a bit before we do the things we do.

God willing, in a few months I’ll be going through the process of getting another book on the market in Jamaica. Everything I’m learning now will be of value then. Forgive me if I’ve said this before, but one of the most important lessons I’m learning is patience. I’ve had to wait for everything and I’m still waiting.

I’m in dialogue with the biggest book and magazine distributor on the island, but have to wait until the purchasing manager comes back to work some time next week. However, he already has a copy of Contraband and contact information to make their order.

I now have to be patient and wait for this to happen. Until then, I’ll try to get at least one review organized for the newspaper. At this rate, I’m thinking the launch will probably be in late July or early August. We’ll see.

Got another bit of good news today. A small book and stationery outlet asked me to bring them copies. That whole arrangement took about two weeks to complete. Not bad in the scheme of things.

Naturally, I’ll have an advantage when Dissolution comes out. I intend to capitalize on that.

I’ve done some business cards, which I should have done long ago. It makes the job of people contacting me a lot easier if I’m able to leave a card along with copies of the book.

My website needs some attention. I did a marvellous job updating it, but now it won’t load, so I have to approach it from another angle. I’m thinking about using a blog template, but I need to chew it over some more. I suspect it’ll be a while longer before I have everything figured out.

Still, I console myself with the thought that nothing that’s worth having ever comes easy - not in the writing world and not in life.

On June 4, a youngster approached a non-Jamaican man at a fast food outlet in Mandeville. The boy asked the man for money. According to news reports, the man gave the boy $500.00 and told him to go to the bathroom. He followed him there.

Security personnel grew suspicious. On investigating, they found the boy bent over, and the man behind him with his pants down. Someone called the police. The man was jailed and went to court yesterday. He was charged with gross indecent assault and remanded until June 22.

Subsequent news reports still have me confused. The boy was first reported to be under 10 years. Last night, the anchor said he was 13. The size of the boy I saw-with his face blanked out-confirmed that he might be as old as that.

The accused has been mentioned as a Columbian national, as well as a Dominican national. Who knows?

A relative of the boy was vocal about what had happened to him. I shared her concern; however, I had some questions, the sort that the judge presiding over the case asked of his mother.

Why was the boy out begging, and worse at 11:00 at night? Where was she at the time? I asked myself what the child was thinking.  Was it right to give in to the stranger? Which also raises the question of whether the boy is mentally competent.

The whole incident highlights some of what is wrong with us as a country. I’ve been wracking my brain, wondering how and when we got to where we are now. I’m not so old that I cannot remember a time when we were a more civil and gentle lot.

When word got out that the jailed man was to appear in court, a crowd gathered. I could use ‘mob’ to describe the group, but I’ll let you decide. These bystanders rushed the police vehicle transporting the arrested man. The police hustled him up the steps of the courthouse with the people baying at their heels.

The same thing happened when the session in court ended. The police made several attempts to get man off the premises and had to get their guns out to ensure they got him out safely.

Now I know we have a big challenge with unemployment in Jamaica, but it boggles the mind that people have so much time to waste. Why would I want to stand in the blazing sun and wait to hear the outcome of something I never knew about until I heard a rumor in the street? Why would I want to beat someone to death because he committed a crime? I admit I might feel differently if this boy was my son, but then I could make the excuse that there is no way my son would be out at night begging. I’d like to think I could restrain myself from committing murder if he was assaulted. I need to think about it some more though.

There was another incident months ago, wherein a group of men broke into a church and stole some items. The residents of the village blocked the getaway car and caught one of the four men. They beat him, chopped his hands off, trimmed his locks, cut off his head, and threw it into a field of ginger.

Most would agree the men had no right to desecrate the church, but having caught one of them, why not turn him over to the police?

So he might escape or get off lighter than people think justified, but was taking his life the right thing to do?

And if any of those people who killed him attend church, did any of them think twice about sitting up in there praising God with blood on their hands?

My gripe is with the way we are doing things these days. Our first reaction is Jungle Justice. My question is - what does that say about us as a people? When did we get to this stage where our first reaction to a wrong is to lash out in a malicious and destructive way? What do we say to non-Jamaicans about the way we react? (The other members of the team the accused man was with said they feared for their lives) Do we have any excuses for why we behave the way that we do? And is there any way to return to a time when we each were our brother’s keeper?

So now that I have actual copies of Contraband in hand, I’m back on the inland promotional trail big time. I’ve spoken with the largest book distributor on the island and once they ‘approve’ the novel, I’m good to go.

I spoke with the manager of another bookstore I had contacted previously and I have the go-ahead to bring them copies of the book. I’m sweetening the deal by inserting a book marker in each. Hopefully, they’ll reach the people buying the book. I’ll be sure to leave some in the store as well.

I told myself I wouldn’t do the launch until October when the second book comes out. My girlfriend steamrolled me and kicked that idea to the curb.

“Are you crazy?” she asked. “We’ve waited so long for this and now you don’t want to have a book launch! We’re gonna do it no later than the summer. October? Are you kidding? We have to hit the ground running with this!”

And so on, and so forth.

Sooooo, I guess we’re still having a book launch.

She gave me a brilliant idea while she ranted. I’m going to bind the 3-4 copies I’m using for reviews, so they don’t start looking tacky. I should have that done by tomorrow.

It feels good to be doing something other than editing, writing, and spinning my wheels.

A year ago, I dusted off the first chapter of a novel I wanted to enter in a competition. I didn’t end up submitting it, but I did accept some advice from a rude man who reviewed the chapter. I have to admit what I posted as the first chapter was indeed long at 4,300 words. Not everybody can digest that much of an unpublished novel at one sitting. Me? If I’m reading on the run, 2,500 - 3,000 words are manageable. I’ll do 5,000 if I have some time to spare. I’m going through the first chapter again, exactly a year later and came across the review I mentioned earlier.

The reader told me he was with me up ‘til the time my character hit her office. He didn’t think finding out what she did as an insurance broker was important. Nor did he think it was worth his time to read a paragraph where I mentioned her best friend and her husband, along with her (my character’s) sister.

He went on to tell me he - as the writer - would have skipped an interaction with her assistant and the bad-tempered customer. He suggested I have her go back to the office and…

…spend some time doing flashback thoughts in her cubicle. Then she answers the phone and it’s Christophe, which gets her all upset as you have it.

Interestingly, he also said.

You can work all this information in (assuming it is, indeed, necessary to the story), but you need to do it within the context of some progression of whatever the real story is - which I assumed from the way it started had to do with Anya’s angst about Christophe.

I read his commentary and then read it again after I lost the urge to find him and stab him in the eyes. I made some changes to the chapter, but I like to think about what I write in the context of life as I know it. I could have had my character sitting in her office thinking about the man she lost, however, humans do not exist in a vacuum. In the course of a day at work, I daresay I interact with more than twenty individuals in a number of situations.

In the chapter, I didn’t go in-depth with her job function. She had an antsy client making some unreasonable demands. I dealt with those through instructions to the assistant to prepare a letter and quotation for the client. I know. Who wants to be bogged down by the intricacies of working for an insurance brokerage? While that reader thought that scene unnecessary, he was the sole person who had a problem with it. I decided to keep it, simply because it has much to do with the plot of the story.

We do a diverse amount of things in a day and have hundreds, if not thousands of thoughts. Fiction has to be intriguing to hold the reader and yet there have to exist points of familiarity to which the reader can relate.

Now, I realize that I can’t cram much more than a few sentences of back story into the first chapter, but I think that as the writer it’s my job to know what is necessary to include from the get-go.

I’ve used his suggestions to take a hard look at this chapter. I cut a bit of it and made it into the second chapter, but what was reinforced for me is something that I had to learn very early in my writing journey. It’s smart to listen to those who critique my work, however, I have to trust my instincts, and yet be ruthless as the same time. I’m the only one who knows the story I’m writing and have to exercise judgment on what needs to be in there and what I can do without. I’ll change something if there’s a compelling reason to do so. Otherwise I edit when the editor tells me I’ve got to make adjustments.

We have a saying in Jamaica that poverty is a crime or more to the point ‘to be poor is a crime’. The words point to stuff that we have to do at one point or another because of the lack of money.

While I might not be awash with cash, my financial constraints force me to be wise in my spending.  So, with Contraband coming out, I wanted to Jazz up my web site a little bit.  I did the job and I’m pleased with it, template and all, but now I’m having the devil of a time getting it to go live.

I’ve uploaded it, it seems to be in the right place, but in the wrong file format and I can’t extract the files. I hate to be a bother, but at some point, I’ll have to ask someone with a tad bit more knowledge than I have to take a look at it.

I suspect also that this blog will disappear temporarily when I upload the new website as it’s hosted as part of my site, but I have the files backed up, so that shouldn’t be too much of a challenge.

Wish me luck.

A little more than a week ago, I was privileged to see a group of women I haven’t seen in over twenty years. Time fell away as I watched them after dinner, weaving their way around the room in a conga line, oblivious to all their cares.

The experience brought back many memories from a time when things were a lot simpler. It also struck me as a time for reflection on the milestones that have come and gone in my life.

There were also some not-so-pleasant memories that came back to me. But there was also the opportunity to put things in perspective.

I tend to tell people that ‘I’m way too old for this thing or that thing’, but it’s amazing that there are character traits we never outgrow and things we never let go of, despite the passage of years. That’s if we never make the decision to give them up.

I tend to hold on to things. If I have an argument with someone and feel there is something I should have said and didn’t, I’ll spend ages thinking about all that I didn’t get to say, or at least I used to do that.
Nowadays, I admit to my mistakes and try to move beyond that point.

Science has determined that elephants have long memories. Apart from them, I guess humans are the only animals that hold on to resentment for decades, refusing to let go of the past and move on.

There are actually a few people whose lives I’ve touched who have held on to this thing or that thing for a long, long time. In a conversation last Sunday, a smart woman gave me a great piece of advice via T.D. Jakes.

It’s not possible to be all things to all people, and there are individuals who you’ll never be able to get along with no matter what you do. There’s wisdom in admitting that and moving on.

For me, this is especially sound advice when no matter how hard I try, I can’t remember what I ever did to hurt the other person. No big argument. No knock-down, drag-out fight. But who knows?

What I do know is that my time on earth is finite. I’m not going to spend it holding on to grudges. Nor will I waste any more time worrying over something I might or might not have done more than twenty years ago.

God knows my heart, and that’s what’s most important.

My only regret is that there weren’t more people at the reunion from my graduating class.

Facebook is great though. I’ve connected with people I’ve thought about now and then over the years.

Modern technology is awesome. So too is this whole business of life. I figure mine is perhaps more than half over, therefore, I don’t have the luxury of wasting any of it with things that aren’t uplifting.

May God Bless all my sisters from Convent of Mercy Academy ‘Alpha’.

This is both an exciting and a little bit of a trying time for me.

My book was released in the middle of April and I still haven’t seen it yet. I know there could be worse things, but a pal of mine who’s read Contraband told me how gorgeous it is, so now I wanna see it even more. The mail van came already today, but no dice.

I want to get started on the book launch, using a particular store as the venue. Before I can do that, they need to get a review copy, read it and decide to get behind me (or not). Naturally, I can’t do the invitations until I have a venue.

I have to go down the list of things I need to do and see what can be done based on the foregoing.

On an exciting note, I’ve started a new project. Another pal has been pushing me to write this book, which would be the story of Paul’s twin. (Paul is the main character in Contraband) I did some brainstorming yesterday and came up with a beautiful opening scenario. I’ve got that half-way done and can’t wait to get moving on the second portion.

I see my young adult project getting pushed even further backward.

I must put myself on a strict schedule to get different things done each day. Otherwise, I’ll work on one thing while the others fall by the wayside.

Speaking of which, I’m asking myself what I’ve done to promote Contraband today.

I have a few reasons to be relieved today.

Thanks to Alan Miles, my blog is up and running once more. My book, Contraband, was released last Friday.

That project is a five-year adventure, helped along by a band of people I’ve never met, yet I call them friends.

I still marvel at this thing we call the internet. It’s helped me reach individuals I wouldn’t have otherwise. I’ve learned most of what I know about writing through studying material I found on the net. And now, I’ll continue marketing my work, using this wonderful communication tool.

I’m feeling especially grateful. I had a sort of epiphany. The meaning below I took from dictionary.com

e•piph•a•ny

-noun, plural-nies.

a sudden, intuitive perception of or insight into the reality or essential meaning of something, usually initiated by some simple, homely, or commonplace occurrence or experience.

I’ve known for some time now that I need more time in which to write. I have completed novels that must be edited and sent on their way into the world. There are other projects I should start writing. And there are those for which I need time to do mind-maps so I can get them out of my brain and posted somewhere.

I’ve spent half my life working for other people. Now, I need to find a way to make a decent living working for myself so as to be able to concentrate on what I enjoy doing.

Initially, I put out feelers to get started with editing for other people. I’ve done nothing more about that. I must move on this and other things.

To borrow a phrase, I need to start living my life on purpose.

I’ve been out of things for the past few days due to my computer going on the blink again. Currently, I’m working on my son’s computer.  The internet connection is dead, I’m not sure why, but I’m thinking that might be a blessing in disguise.  I stand the chance of actually writing something, rather than surfing the net.

My last project has been something of a challenge.  The story hasn’t been moving as fast as I’d like, but I had a glimmer of an idea today, which will work to close out the novel.  I’m a little bit worried because I’m three-quarters of the way done and the word count is not up to fifty thousand.   Yikes! That’s never happened before.

I’d like to think it’s because I’m a better writer, but good sense dictates that it’s probably a case that I need to add more colour to the story, and depth to the characters.  I also found out some time ago that I lost track of the days and weeks over which the story takes place, but one of my reviewers caught up on that while reading my last chapter.  Of course, I was hoping that nobody noticed that the sense of urgency conveyed by time constraints was missing.

An aside here: See why I’ve improved on my writing?  Some readers never let me get away with anything! (Thanks Diana!)

I’m feeling a renewed sense of purpose since I now know how I’m going to wrap up this story.  I figure I have at least another four chapters to go and then I can put Celeste and Mark to bed.
Wish me luck!