Good Morning,
Well, release day for My Heart Weeps has come and gone. I'm excited to see where this book goes and looking forward to fulfilling the book tour and giving out prizes. I'm also trying to set up a few personal appearances in Utopia, TX. I'll keep you posted on that but for now, let's please welcome D. V. Stone back to share some words with us!
It’s all in the delivery.
People love stories. Whether spoken or written for thousands
of years, stories have been passed down. Sometimes they’re fun, sometimes
educational, but it’s all in the delivery. Below is one of my favorite scenes
from Rock House Grill. How much less of an impact would it have if John just
walked in and lectured Aden. “Buck up, man. Life is hard. Get it together.” Not
so much, right?
John’s words are valid. Right to the point of the matter.
But have you ever had everything planned out for your life? You were going to
go to school and get a degree in a field you loved, but no one was hiring in
that field. Maybe find the partner of your dreams and live happily ever after,
until the divorce. You were going to raise your kids to be amazing people, but
they didn’t turn out how you expected. The bank account you were building for retirement
ended up going toward medical bills. Would those words help or hurt you,
Don’t get depressed yet. I’m an author whose main ARC or
Trope, is hope. A bit of personal history. I’ve owned and lost businesses.
Heath issues are real. I’ve been divorced. Laid off from long term jobs. Money?
Fuhgeddaboudit! (I can use that expression, I’m from NJ.)
So, when I asked about my favorite scene in
Rock House
Grill, this one immediately comes to mind. Here’s the setup. Circumstances
in Aden House, the main character’s life are a contributing factor leading to a
terrible car accident. He is in a rehabilitation center with damaged legs. In
the midst of an anger/pity party, a very smart man comes into his room who may
or not be loosely based on someone I know.
“Do you need anything?” John, the rehab aide, popped
his head in the door. “Can you get your legs on the bed?”
“I’ll be fine.”
The man flinched at his sharpness. Aden took a deep
breath. “Sorry, thank you.”
“I know it’s frustrating.” John came in, picked up the
grabber, and leaned against the wall. “It might help to talk to someone.”
“I’ve already talked.” Aden grabbed one leg, then the
other, lifting them onto the bed. “See, it’s all good.”
The other man didn’t back off, though. “So, you’ve
talked to someone. What did they say?”
Aden leaned back, put his arms behind the pillow, and
stared at the ceiling tiles. “I would experience anger, frustration,
insecurity—blah, blah, blah.”
“And what were you experiencing when I heard you
throwing things and stuck my head in?”
Aden closed his eyes. “All of it.”
When he opened his eyes, John stood at his bedside.
“You’re still the man you were. It’s a rough patch. You’ve hit rough patches
before?”
“Not really.”
“Welcome to the other ninety percent of humanity.” The
aide stooped down, so he and Aden were on eye level. Laugh lines and slight
graying at the temples were the only indications he was older than Aden.
“Circumstances change us. We can curse them and let them control us. Or, we
allow whatever happens to make us better.”
“I get it.”
“No, I don’t think you do.” John paused a moment,
grabbed a chair, and straddled it. “I have this friend. He’s a runner.”
Aden pulled himself up, leaned against the headboard,
and snorted. “I’m getting a bedtime story?”
“Yeah.” John laughed. “The guy wants to be in the
Olympics. Every day he runs and practices. Every day he gets home, and he hurts
all over, especially his feet. Blisters like I’ve never seen. They bleed. But
after a while, blisters go away, bleeding stops, and calluses develop.”
“You’re saying I should develop calluses?”
“Wait, calluses are not the point of the story. The
guy makes the team. Heads to Atlanta.”
“Did he win?”
Aden couldn’t help being caught up in the story. “Have I heard of him?”
“He got sick.”
John leaned his arms on the back of the chair. “Pneumonia, the day the meets
started.”
“Then all his work was for nothing.” Well, that wasn’t
helpful. Shouldn’t this be a story about a winner? “Just like me.”
The other man shook his head. “I didn’t say The End.”
“What happened?”
“He went to the hospital and nearly died. But there
was this nurse.” John’s eyes went distant. “She was beautiful and determined
her patient would make it.”
“Did he?”
“Yup. They fell in love, got married, and had a couple
of kids.” John pushed the chair back and stood up. “Not the life he’d planned.
He regretted not achieving what he’d worked so hard for, but once he adjusted,
his life turned out great.”
Aden developed a sneaking suspicion in his gut as the
aide headed for the door. “What does this guy do now?”
“He gets great satisfaction in helping injured people
get on with their lives.” John closed the door behind him.
Often we are in a hurry. We have our own problems. But
when someone is in pain, could we not take a moment and tell them a story to encourage
and give them hope?
Thank you for taking the time for me today, and I hope
John and Aden’s bedtime story helps you. I’d love to hear about the storyteller
in your life.
~~~~
Wow, Donna what a great scene and I love that your "trope" is HOPE...it's what so many of us wish to share! Good luck and God's blessings with your books.
Hope you enjoyed today's post friends. Check out DV's previous Wednesday Words with Friends and Saturday Spotlight.
Until next time, take care and God bless.
PamT
