Tuesday's Question: Hmm...What is it this week? Books, Children, life?

What''s The First Book That Made You Cry?

Hello, and welcome to Tuesday's Question. This is the first Tuesday's Question I've written in a long time, so I'm rusty, but here goes, (Although, I know you already read it.)

What's the first book that ever made you cry? Feel free to the replace "cry" with "laugh," either word is fine, whatever emotion you felt the strongest from a book for the first time.


Frank Kafka, once wrote, "A book must be the ax for the frozen sea inside us."


What book helped break the "frozen sea' in you?


I know this is a tough question to ponder, or at least it was for me, so take your time, because you can come back whenever you wish.

Alright, it's my turn to answer this question. Note: The first book to make you cry doesn't have to be a children's book.




The first book that made me cry was Stuart Little, by E.B.White, although it might not count, because my mother read it to my brother’s and I when I was six years old, so when I think about it, Stuart Little may be the first book that made my brother's laugh or cry, because tears rolled down my face when Stuart swirled down the kitchen sink. All of E.B. White's books made me laugh and cry, so maybe this answer is not the best. But, it was the first book I remembered when I thought about this question, or one of them anyway.

That being said, the first novel I read that made me cry was Watership Down, written by English author Richard Adams, and I'm sorry, but I have to include The Outsiders, by S.E. Hinton  as well, because I'm not sure which one made me cry first, and both novels affected me in a profound way.

Actually, it had to have been The Outsiders that first cracked the ice in my soul, because I read it in Junior High School, I think I remembered Watership Down first, due to an unpleasant experience I had when I was a freshman in high school.

Spring Cleaning, Under Construction, Remodeling My Empty Nest, Writing New Stories, Hmm...

I guess it's obvious that I couldn't settle on a title for this post, but I trust that many of you get my meaning; but, I suppose I could have entitled it 'Drifting.'    

Because 2014 was a crazy year for me, one of those years I do not care to repeat. I spent the year riding an emotional roller coaster, or floating about in a daydream. In any event, I haven't had enough time to dust, nail, or rearrange my cherished spot on the internet for what feels like an eternity.

I can't believe how long it's been since my last post.  

I finally finished a children's manuscript, so, I've been busy researching agencies that may be interested in representing children's material.

I feel sad about the fact that my blog resembles a ghost town, especially since it used to be such a lively place to hide. I hope my old readers haven't given up on me and will return, and that new readers will discover my/our "place in the sun."

Incidentally, I hope the construction worker to the right of this text is going be alright, because I'm do not have blog owners insurance.  (Now, I understand why construction workers wear those funny looking hats.) I need a hard hat to wear while I'm cleaning my house, in addition to a pair of boots.

 The title of my manuscript is "Bizzy, The Busy Dog," and I'm working on another one entitled, "The Hobo."  

I've decided I should let my blog readers in on the titles of my offline work because you're a spectacular bunch of people, particularly those of you who have been loyal friends since I began writing A Nice Place In The Sun. You've helped me find my voice, and supported me through many unedited silly posts, and I'm grateful for your friendship.

If this is your first visit, I welcome you and hope you will return. I posted a few links to posts on my sidebar, and I'm looking forward to posting new stories soon.

Thanks again! Have a super great day. :)

Oh, and I appreciate and respond to all comments, so if you have time, please feel free to comment, e-mail me, subscribe, or step in with a broom, mop, nails and a few construction workers. :)

An Embarrassing Incident

  An Embarrassing Incident     
                                                       

Recently, an old friend reminded me of an embarrassing incident that happened to me in high school.

When I was a teenager, my friends and I rode around in the car listening to the radio until the sun glistened upon the mighty Mississippi river. The Mississippi river ran through our hometown, which was in keeping with its teenager’s strong undercurrents and muddy water attitudes. The river road crept along the rivers route, but since the river was obstructed by a levee, we had to drive on top of the levee's narrow road to view the water.

In those days when you drove on the top of the levee, you could see farms with pastures as we sped down the rivers long winding curves, then, if we were lucky, we saw splashes from the tiny fish in the river, or the occasional opportunistic bird.

My friends and I spent time on the ferry that crossed the river night and day. I used to stand on the front of the boat and pretend I was Barbra Streisand singing, On A Clear Day, imitating the character in the movie Funny Girl.

Before the days of videocassettes, CD players, etc, the car radio was the popular form of entertainment, with the exception of going to the movies. Therefore, in addition to the river road, we had other driving locations, one of which was the road that encircled the grounds in front of our State's Capital building.

We lived in Baton Rouge, Louisiana, the State of Louisiana's capital city, therefore the State Capital building, or what we called the “Capital Area," is lined with state government offices. The building has twenty-six stories and the grounds are smothered in oak trees dripping with moss, blooming azalea bushes, and so thick with shrubbery you cannot see where you're going at night, it's pitch black in every direction.-Or it was at that time-

Anyway, on one of our State Capital ground nighttime drives, we were listening to my high school sweetheart's eight-track tapes. He was the kid (they have one in every crowd) with the luxuries in our group; you know the one with the car, etc...; and he took advantage of it by bossing the rest of us around who weren't in line to the throne. The king on his throne was also my boyfriend, with who, I laughed, sang, loved, and disagreed with constantly.

On this particular night we were arguing about a song he wouldn't let me hear on one of his eight tracks, when of course, I realized I had to find a bathroom. His eight-tracks were a big thing and listening to them was something I hated to interrupt, but I didn't think I could wait much longer, so I asked him to stop in front of the State Capital lawn. The State Capital grounds would afford me the privacy I needed, since I could hide under the safety of an Oak tree.

When I told my boyfriend and friends I simply had to use a bathroom, their response was;

"Ann, how are we going to find a bathroom downtown in the middle of the night?"

I answered, "I can go under the oak trees in the courtyard, no one will see me, and I’ll be right back." I was so aggravated about the tape that I didn't give much thought about the safest place to hide.

So I squat under the closest tree I could find by the car, and began to pee, then I heard birds chirping in the tree, and thought, what kind of bird chirps at night? Then the chirping sounded louder as if it were getting closer and I thought these birds sure are friendly.

Saturday's Best Movie Adaptations- The Help

"Twenty-two-year-old Skeeter has just returned home after graduating from Ole Miss. She may have a degree, but it is 1962, Mississippi, and her mother will not be happy till Skeeter has a ring on her finger. Skeeter would normally find solace with her beloved maid Constantine, the woman who raised her, but Constantine has disappeared and no one will tell Skeeter where she has gone.

Aibileen is a black maid, a wise, regal woman raising her seventeenth white child. Something has shifted inside her after the loss of her own son, who died while his bosses looked the other way. She is devoted to the little girl she looks after, though she knows both their hearts may be broken."

Review from Amazon.com 

I loved this book, and have written a short story of my own about a similar experience. One of the most important person in my life was an uneducated black woman named Edna. Edna helped shape me into to person I am today. God bless the unknown heroes who have a profound influence on our character.

The Help was written by  Kathryn Stockett. It is her first novel. To learn more about her visit Amazon.com. 

Thank you for stopping by A Nice Place In The Sun.

Have a happy Saturday. :)

Ann Clemmons