Trifecta Challenge: 3 Word Resolutions

Sorry I haven't done much here or otherwise, but the busy holiday season sent me scampering here there and everywhere.

But I finally have a few spare minutes to check in and make a new Trifecta submission:

Michael Hess inspired us with his three word New Year's resolution;just be nice. We're asking for your own resolutions in just three words. Make it count; we'll be checking back in come 2015.

And since this is our ninety-ninth Trifextra challenge, we're giving away the journal shown below from Tricerashops, our Cafe Press shop, in a randomly drawn giveaway. All you have to do to be entered is to enter this week's challenge. Good luck and good writing.

So, here goes:

Publish My Book!

 Here's three more:

Finish Second Book!

Here's yet three more:

Outline Third Book!

And Lastly:

Write Third Book!

**********************************************

Technically I probably disqualified myself for official entry in this week's trifecta challenge, but this is more of a reminder to myself what I really want to accomplish in the upcoming year. I have a manuscript that needs a little polishing (for the nine-millionth time), the first in a trilogy that I want to publish and I will make this year my year and I will pass my son's legacy on to as many people and I possibly can. One of the many reasons, I feel, that Ukiah was brought into my life was to show me that I was capable of writing a book and also of doing something that was so much bigger than myself. I have to continue passing on his legacy by finishing the other two books in that series and by getting them out to the masses by any means necessary.

I don't talk about that book here much, but perhaps I should start. It's YA Paranormal and it deals with kids who have special needs, different diagnoses and limitations, but also abilities. Their limitations are also their powers, and that's how I chose to see every child with life limiting or special diagnosis. What we see as limitations and disabilities I chose to see as gifts. 

I will do it this year and if not I'll at least make great strides in trying. Wish me luck and check back here for updates.

Trifecta Challenge: Tush

“Tush up hon,” the kind nurse with a hint of a drawl in her voice says, as she changes my pads. My mom is helping to pick me up and everything aches. I want to scream, but it’s more guttural, always has been. I’d just assume lay in my own waste and be comfortable a day or two than be clean and in unbearable pain this close to the end.

Still, I guess I get it. I can’t fault ‘em for running a tight ship. Their just doing their job and letting me die in the comfort of my own home is a job I’m grateful anybody will do at all.

I’m fading fast. Everyone in the room knows it. My mom is the only one who can’t admit it to herself. I don’t blame her for her denial. The prognosis went from a few months, to a few weeks, to only a few days in less time than it takes to get a gun. If I hadn’t known it to be the end, I’d be in denial too.

I’m more out than in now. Consciousness doesn’t have the allure it once had. I overheard the nurses tell my mom it won’t be long before my breath becomes thready, signaling the end. A day or two tops.

But I ain’t giving up yet. I gotta hold out ‘til Henry gets here. He made me promise.

I’m not sure what time it is, when mom whispers in my ear that Henry made it. He’s a blur. I can’t make him out, but his voice comes through loud and clear. I’m not sure if I’m smiling or even if I can. I hear his voice and I’m at peace with him, with mom, with everything.

I had a lot I wanted to say, but no real way of saying it. Without wasting any time, he brought out his guitar and started strumming and I realized there was nothing left to say. 

************************************************************

 The following story is my entry into the Trifecta Challenge, this week's word being tush.

Trifecta's Weekend Challenge AKA my worst nightmare

“Uppie,” she barked. I looked around frantically.

“Uppie,” she cried louder, a panic started to set in, for both of us.

“Uppie!” she screamed louder. We’d lost her favorite possession. My heart broke.

**************************************************************

This weekend's Trifecta mini-challenge was to use the same word repeated three times.

The word repeated here is the name my daughter has given her favorite stuffed animal. The problem is once we realized what she had become attached to, it was too late to get her a replica replacement. It's been discontinued. Any stuffed animals like it are too big and at this point, Uppie is too tattered and she'd notice a difference. Losing Uppie would be horrific on so many levels. I hope it never, ever, happens.

I may not have followed the challenge to the letter, because proper nouns, while not expressly forbidden, were not mentioned outright. But to defend myself, my daughter sometimes uses the name as a verb. In this case "Uppie!!!!!!" is a demand in one word, over and over again. I hope that gets me off the hook.

The Sock God strikes again: Trifecta Challenge

“You’re screwing everything up. We gave you this world and you’ve done nothing with it or with yourselves. You have a year to prove your worthiness or we’re reclaiming it,” one of the demi-gods boomed across the world.

After whoever blasted off his mouth, I knew it wouldn’t be long before one of my cousins came sniffing around. It was Eris, real peach that one.

She showed up while I was out on one of my laundry runs. If my only power on this plane is to take unimportant objects, I’m going to do it. I could take anything, but taking a sock while leaving its match? That’s a mindscrambler.

Now it was Eris’s turn. She’d ransacked the whole place, overturning socks I’d stole during the Eisenhower administration.

“What the underworld Eris?” I yelled.

“Sorry,” she said, but she clearly wasn’t. “Trying to determine if you sent out the message….” This part trips everyone up. I’d been manifested by the Greeks, given a purpose, but never really named. The other gods call me the unnamed one, but I’m not the only demi-god somebody forgot to name back then. I call myself Keeper of Unimportant Lost Things, or KULT for short.

“I didn’t. Are we done?” I asked, showing her the exit.

“War is upon us. Time to pick a side.”

“I have no real power. Nobody wants me on their side. My existence here is tenuous as is. I vanish when the world stops believing in me.”

“Look around you. The world believes again, in all of us.”

“This war is pointless and it’ll be just like the last.” I shrugged.

“No, It involves all the Gods now.”

“All?” 

She nodded the answer. That meant all the religions were stepping in. Things were about to get messy. I was still hesitant.

Then she went and found my weak spot. “You fight with us, I promise they will remember you.”

“But will they name me?” She looked away. She didn’t know.

****************************************************************

 Another week, another Trifecta challenge. This week's challenge was Remember:

Remember (verb):

1 :  to bring to mind or think of again
2 :  archaic
   a :  BETHINK
   b :  REMIND
3 a :  to keep in mind for attention or consideration
   b :  REWARD
4 :  to retain in the memory
5 :  to convey greetings from  

My weekend challenge subject wouldn't leave me alone this week. The idea of a demi-god who's only power is stealing mundane objects was just so ripe to me, and I like myself some prankster dieties, so here we are.  I decided to come up with a scenario in which he might be sought out to be valuable. This is what I've come up with so far. I think I'm interested to see where this takes me, so I might do more challenges with KULT in the center. Guess I better brush up on my mythology then heh?

Remember (verb):

1 :  to bring to mind or think of again
2 :  archaic
   a :  BETHINK
   b :  REMIND
3 a :  to keep in mind for attention or consideration
   b :  REWARD
4 :  to retain in the memory
5 :  to convey greetings from

Remember: - See more at: http://www.trifectawritingchallenge.com/#sthash.WLs4xwtL.dpuf

Trifecta Challenge: Boo

I wanted to boo, hiss, seethe, make some motion that I hated what they were doing to me. But my body, as it always had, was holding me motionless. I wanted them to know what they were doing was wrong had been wrong my entire life and that this procedure they were talking of performing was the worst possible idea and not what I wanted at all. But the people ‘taking care of me’ as it had always been, were paying me no mind.

It’s not like I’m not use to people making decisions on my behalf, decisions I didn’t want made, decisions I can’t fight. It’s not like I’m not use to people underestimating my mind because my own body has trapped it, held it captive for years. Why should this place be any different?

Being held captive is one thing, but being tortured for needless reasons is an entirely different thing. I want, no I need someone to listen to me, to find a way to hear my mind when my body won’t speak.

Nurse Jane is coming. She’s sad. I know she doesn’t like what they are doing to me, what they are going to do to me. Maybe I have some time to convince her that what they will be doing to me tomorrow is wrong. Maybe there’s something I can do to make her listen.

What is that at the corner of my eyes ? It’s wet and running down my temples. Are those tears? Am I capable of tears? Will that be enough to convince her, them, all of them, that this is against my will?

All I can do is try and cry until somebody listens. 

***********************************************************************

The above short story is for this week's Trifecta challenge word boo:

boo 

1 (interjection)
used to express contempt or disapproval or to startle or frighten

2 (noun)
a sound that people make to show they do not like or approve of someone or something

3 (verb) to show dislike or disapproval of someone or something by shouting “Boo” slowly

 It was inspired by this story I read yesterday that broke my heart. If you think it's too long or it sounds too heartbreaking, I'll try and give you the cliff's notes. It's essentially about a girl with cerebral palsy whose parents deliberately infantalized and sterilized her so that her body would stay the same size as what they believe her brain function to be. The story is also about a person who lived through a similar experience and how heartbroken she is by this decision. It's an incredible but devastating article and I wrote this story above, partly because this thing wouldn't leave me and partly as a way for advocating disabled rights, no matter the age or brain capability. 

As some of you know, I had a son with special needs who passed away ten days before his second birthday and everyday I struggle with the decision we made to let him go because I don't know if that's what he really wanted. Despite his disabilities, he had a voice, an incredible, unique personality and a mind that wanted to fight to communicate and to work properly. I would've fought to my very last breathe to make sure he had that right. I have another blog called Ukiah's Heart, inspired by him, where I try to do just that for all the kids just like him by talking about issues revolving around children with special needs, parents with special needs, and bereaved parents. If this touched you at all, do your part by educating yourself at my other blog, and the other blogs I link to. Also, stop by George Mark House's website and educate yourself about the wonderful work they have done for families like mine and need help to continue to do. 

Thank you, in advance to all the Trifecta members who read this. You're all gems.