tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13694558554589390132024-02-06T22:32:38.116-07:00 The Beholders SeriesMel Bhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18197452633143036462noreply@blogger.comBlogger110125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1369455855458939013.post-71369992922839433072015-03-13T13:47:00.000-07:002015-03-13T14:17:03.803-07:00Jekyll and Hyde Competition - "The Unseen Scene"<i><span style="color: red;"><span style="background-color: white;"><b>*takes HUGE breath and blows dust off of blog*</b></span></span></i><br />
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<i><span style="color: red;"><span style="background-color: white;">Hi everybody! This past year has been crazy, leaving little time to blog. Twelve years of collegiate torture will finally come to an end in May, at which point I will gladly activate this blog again. In the meantime, I have a fun contest I need you're help judging! </span></span></i><br />
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<i><span style="color: red;"><span style="background-color: white;">My 8th grade students have been studiously digesting Robert Louis Stevenson's novella Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde for the past couple of months. I ended the J&H unit with a creative writing competition extra credit opportunity. </span></span></i><br />
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<i><span style="color: red;"><span style="background-color: white;"><b>I would LOVE your help judging this contest! Just read through the following nine "unseen scenes" of J&H </b>(you don't have to know the book to participate)<b>, then leave a comment with a vote for your favorite. Thanks!</b></span></span></i><br />
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<span style="color: red;"><span style="background-color: white;"><b><span style="background-color: red;"><span style="color: yellow;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">CONTEST DEADLINE - SUNDAY, MARCH 15, 11:59 PM</span></span></span></b></span></span><i><span style="color: red;"><span style="background-color: white;"><b> </b></span></span></i><br />
<br />
<span style="background-color: yellow;"><u><b>Story #1</b></u></span><br />
Jekyll slipped through the door crack promptly. He twitched as he trudged towards the window. His face was beginning to morph and fold, suddenly it bounced into Hyde’s face. Hyde took a cautious glance out the window, to see Utterson and Enfield glancing right back at him. Hyde immediately thrust the window down and ran to the cabinet as quickly as possible. As he ran, he yelped and stumbled upon boxes. All he could think of was to hide. He ran into the cabinet door and and gave the handle a twist. The door was locked. He stirred his hands through his pockets and then raised the key out of his pocket. Once he was in the cabinet he searched through his papers. Jekyll was consciously telling him to find the recipe for a drug that Jekyll made himself. Hyde frantically scurried around the room, tripping over himself, bumping into furniture, and throwing papers anxiously. Hyde didn’t know what to do, he wanted Jekyll to handle the situation. Hyde continued to dig through drawers and boxes. “Finally,” sighed Hyde anxiously, “I found the recipe!” He ran over to the testing table and cleared off all the books and unwanted papers. He began to mix substances that popped out colorful gasses. He finally came out with the right mixture. He took the drug at once. Hyde hobbled to the sofa next to the fire and held onto it to keep his balance. He collapsed onto the sofa and stared into the fire. “One, two,” Hyde counted, “three.” Continued Jekyll. Jekyll stood up and shuffled to the testing table and cleaned up the mess around it. He put the books and and all the papers where they belong. When he was done cleaning up the mess that Hyde left behind, he went to a corner of the cabinet and rested his head in the corner. He turned around and slid down the corner on his back. “Hyde, what have you done? I am disappointed with your actions. I am tired of all this, Hyde. I am done. I will destroy you.” Jekyll sat there with his hands covering his face. “ I will destroy this thing that we share. You just cause me trouble. You’re ruining everything. I want a normal life.” continued Jekyll. He sat there all night wondering what was going to happen in the near future.<br />
<br />
<span style="background-color: yellow;"><u><b>Story #2</b></u></span><br />
"Hyde remove your childish fingers from my nose!" Jekyll solemnly pronounced. "Only if you stop trying to cut them off!" Hyde replied. <br />
<br />
"The minuscule bones connected the human hand are not necessary past 90 years-old, it is a scientifically proven fact!" Argued Jekyll. <br />
<br />
"Argh! They may not be necessary for an old man like you but they are needed for a youngster like me." Stammered Hyde. <br />
<br />
"Aww poor Hyde, he still needs his baby flanges! Such a child. Anyway, Your stomach is growling at me, why don't you get us something to eat?" Jekyll responded. <br />
<br />
"Well I'm sorry, I haven't eaten since that healthy protein drink you made me drink." Explained Hyde. <br />
<br />
"It was a delicious vegetable shake, and it wasn't that bad. I added three raw eggs, spinach, grapefruit juice, and beets, just for your sensitive taste buds. " Jekyll said pridefully. <br />
<br />
"Jekyll! Ugh, sometimes I wonder how you sleep at night. Anyway, can I pleeaasse go to McDonalds? Their chicken nuggets remind me of the cruelty of mankind. Killing the chicken, grounding up every single part of it's lifeless body and then frying it into a delicious masterpiece." Pronounced Hyde. <br />
<br />
"Eww! I just threw up a little inside your mouth! Don't you dare put that garbage into my body, you will regret it!" Jekyll explained. <br />
<br />
"Garbage?!?! It's my turn for our stomach so I get to decide what to eat, and I chose McNuggets!" Hyde said proudly. <br />
<br />
"Fine you can eat them as long as you promise to go on a run later this evening." Jekyll stated. <br />
<br />
"Hahaha, Jekyll! You're such a joker! Since my hunch was placed in your back last week, I have been doing nothing but curl-ups because the curling motion comes easily with my new and improved back. So I won't be doing any running tonight." Hyde said unwillingly. <br />
<br />
"Just promise me that you will go on a walk at least, because I don't want to store your calories in my thighs. Got it?" Jekyll explained. <br />
<br />
"What ever you say, your Majesty." Hyde responded sarcastically. <br />
<br />
“Jekyll,” cried Mr. Utterson, with a loud voice, “I demand to see you.” <br />
<br />
<span style="background-color: yellow;"><u><b>Story #3</b></u></span><br />
“All at once, I saw two figures, one a little man who was stumping along eastward at a good walk, and the other a girl of maybe eight or ten was running as hard as she was able down a cross street. The two ran into one another naturally enough at the corner; and then came the horrible part of the thing; for the man trampled calmly over the child’s body and left her screaming on the ground,” explained Mr. Enfield, he continued saying, “I later heard why the little girl was running in the streets that late. It is a horrible tale to tell." <br />
<br />
“What happened?” Mr. Utterson eagerly replied. <br />
<br />
“Well at this time the little girl's Grandmother was about 88 years old, and was very sickly. She had some type of disease that was eating her up bit by bit, so she needed a doctor, and quick. The little girl's Grandfather had died prior to this incident, and her father was working to support her family. With no siblings, and her mother staying with her Grandmother, she had to go retrieve the doctor by herself. Her mother had no other choice than to send her.” <br />
<br />
“Did she get the doctor? Did the Grandmother die? Enfield you must tell me!” Mr. Utterson demanded. <br />
<br />
“The fellow who ran her over had to pay them $50,000 so they were able to get a doctor,” Enfield states, “but all I know is that the little girl is okay and not seriously injured, but she was still in shock. Sadly, the Grandmother didn’t survive because they did not get the doctor in time.” <br />
<br />
<span style="background-color: yellow;"><u><b>Story #4</b></u></span><br />
My Dear Utterson,- When this shall fall into your hands, I shall have disappeared, under what circumstances I have not the penetration to foresee, but my instinct and all circumstances of my nameless situation tell me that the end is sure and must be early. Go then, and read first the narrative which Lanyon warned me he was to place in your hands; and if you care to hear more, turn to the confession of<br />
Your unworthy and unhappy friend, <br />
Henry Jekyll<br />
<br />
Jekyll folded the note. “ Oh where did I put that envelope?” Jekyll moved around papers on the usually organised desk.’ Why is your desk so messy Jekyll ?’ “ Shut up Hyde! What do you want any way?” ‘ Oh come on Jekyll. Why so stiff? I just wanted to talk.’ <br />
<br />
“ No Hyde. Whenever you want to ‘just talk’ it’s when you want something. And you’re not getting it. Not this time. You’re not getting anything any more.” ‘ Oh we’ll just see about that. So why don’t go ahead and let me out of this silly little brain of ours and let me go and have some fun huh?’ “ No Hyde! I’m not going to let you take advantage of me.” Jekyll got up from the desk and slid the envelope with a note for Poole to give it to Utterson.’ Please Jekyll. Let me out. I won’t do something too drastic. I promise! * I know you want to.*’ “No Hyde. You are not getting out of my… our head. I’m in control. I’m the one who has had enough. I’m done!” ‘ ‘Jekyll, Jekyll, Jekyll. You know me. You know that i can force my way out of your thoughts and make you the thought. This is my last time that I’ll be nice and sweet. So Jekyll. I’ll give you one more chance. Let me out. Now!’ “ Hyde. I’m not afraid anymore. I am done with this life. When you came in, I thought that you were good. Then you stomped on that little girl. I thought ‘All right. It was probably an accident.’ Then we met Carew on the street. I thought that I was doing great controlling you. But somehow, you got in control. I had to watch you beat Carew to death. I had to watch you make him into strawberry jam. But what made it worse, is that you used my cane that Utterson gave to me as a present. I had to watch you commit murder through your… our eyes. <br />
<br />
Hyde had finally had enough. ‘ Allright Jekyll. You brought this upon yourself. I tried being nice. But you forced me to take drastic measures.’ Jekyll gave out aggravating scream. “ Hyde. Please. Think about this. You don’t want to do this.” Jekyll opened his mouth again. Only this time, it wasn’t Jekyll’s normal kind voice. It was a raspy voice. It was Hyde’s voice. “ Sorry Jekyll. I told you that I was coming out. I tried to warn you.” Jekyll was fighting back. It was aggravating. It hurt so bad, it felt like he had just had millions of bees and leaches stinging and sucking all the blood from his body. Like the pests were sucking out pain and replacing it with a pain that was so much bigger than before. Jekyll had tried to speak, but what came out was just groans of horrifying pain. Jekyll looked down his hands were starting to look grey and a little sickly. Hyde spoke. “ How much does it hurt Jekyll? Hmm? How much do you want to just pull the flesh from your bones? How much do you just want to crumple into nothing just to stop the pain? Huh? How.... much…. do…. you…. want…. to…. sssstttttooop? Just say when and I will stop your pain.” “No Hyde. I will stay strong.” Jekyll gave another blood churning scream. “ It’s too bad Jekyll. While you were doing your little chemical study, I found a way to increase your pain, while I walk pain-free.” <br />
<br />
Jekyll couldn’t take it anymore. Jekyll let go. Hyde walked over to the mirror. Jekyll was discussded by his appearance. Hyde was still wearing his clothes, which were much too big for him. His black, greasy hair was just a mess, placed all over his head in every direction possible. And Jekyll couldn’t remember how, but Hyde’s teeth were sharp. Not even sharp. Sharp did not even began to cover it. They were fangs. Like vampire or werewolf fangs. The area around his eyes were black and tired. Hyde looked young, but had aged and old eyes. He fixed Jekyll’s tie and grinned a horrible smile.” Well Jekyll, you might be a geek, but you have good taste in style. Even if they are a little too big for me.” ‘ Hyde. Please let me go back. I need to do something. It will help you. Please Hyde. I just want to help.’ “ Jekyll, Jekyll ,Jekyll. When are you going to realize that I don’t want your help anymore. You always go out of your way to help, but I won’t listen anymore.” <br />
<br />
Then there was a knock at the door. “ A Mr. Utterson to see you sir.” ‘Oh no. Hyde please let me out to talk to Utterson. Please!’ ‘ No Jekyll. You better have enjoyed your last conversation with him. I’ve something big planned for him.’ ‘Hyde, what are you thinking? What are you going to do?’ ‘ Jekyll, do you think that I’m stupid? I’m definitely not going to tell you!’ “ Sir? Are you there?” Hyde had to act quickly. “ Tell him that I can’t see anyone at the moment.” “ Yes sir.” Hyde waited until Poole had left. ‘ Hyde please. if you just-’ “ No Jekyll! You are not getting out of our head! I’m the star of the show now!” Hyde let out a horrifying laugh. “ Sorry Jekyll. But you lost control a long time ago.” <br />
<br />
Jekyll had had enough. He tried as hard as he could to make the feet and arms move. Right foot. Left foot. One at a time. Hyde was screaming. “ Jeekkyyll! Stop this mutiny right NOW!” ‘ No. I’m finishing you... us. I will not let you hurt Utterson!’ There was bumping and shuffling all over the room. Hyde was rufless. But Jekyll was determined. Fighting and jerking. Throwing punches towards the same body. Jekyll had to focus in order to win. Fighting Hyde, while also trying to move the body. Jekyll grabbed the vile and the liquid. He tried to fix the poison, but Hyde was fighting back with all his might. <br />
<br />
“Jekyll, don’t. Stop this right now!” ‘ No Hyde. You will be SILENCED!’ Jekyll made Hyde’s arm jerk up to his mouth in order to drink the poison. Hyde gave a scream so foul, and yet it made Jekyll heave a sigh of relief and peace.The body fell to the floor with a massive thud still twitching and jerking, like when you cut the head from the chicken and the body still runs around. Jekyll knew that from this decision that he would be at peace, and Hyde would be at peace as well. He knew that by killing the two of them, that it would be the best decision that he had ever made. And that was the end of Dr. Henry Jekyll and Mr. Edward Hyde. <br />
<br />
<span style="background-color: yellow;"><u><b>Story #5</b></u></span><br />
“Poole, replied the lawyer, If you say that, it will become my duty to make certain” (Stevenson 44). While this discussion was going on with Mr. Utterson and Poole this is what Jekyll was thinking. “Hyde you must let me change back into my regular form!” “Now why would I do that and if I wanted to how, there is not enough of that accursed salt for me to turn back into you!!!” “You need to release your hold on my mind, I believe that if you did this I would be able to turn into my regular form.” “ If I release my hold on your mind and body I may never come back! Is this your plan make me release you and then you could have your old life back!” “no no I would never…” “ I know your thoughts remember I am you, I understand how you think you can hide nothing from me!” “Unless I change my thoughts.” mutters Jekyll. “ I heard that! Like I said you can hide nothing!” “But they will kill us! You won’t be able to hide, do bad things to people, or let your anger out.” “I won’t need to if I’m already dead!” Hyde begins to create a formula for a substance that will kill him and Jekyll forever. “No you mustn’t do that! It will ruin us!” “I know what it will do, I want to be rid of you forever, no more thoughts that will keep me from doing what is right!” “Killing us won’t accomplish anything! It will just make things worse!” “ How would doing this make my life worse and even if it did living wouldn’t make it better!” “I could make it better! I could figure out a way to separate our two figures!” “ No you couldn’t, you have tried before and not succeeded. Why would it be any different now?” “I haven’t tried hard enough, I could do it because of the pressure that you will put on me it will drive me so hard that I will be able to make a cure!” “ You know that you doubt yourself. Why are you trying to save a life that is no longer yours?” “...You’re right.” Jekyll says with unwilling acknowledgement “ But before you do it will you let me write a letter to Utterson to explain what has happened?” “ No, he does not deserve to…” Before Hyde could say another word he was forced into Jekyll’s body by the final swallow of the tonic. As soon as Jekyll had fully taken control he began to write the letter. “ I must hurry before he gets out again. I’m lucky that worked at all.” Jekyll says. He begins writing the letter, “ I was born in the year 18-...”(Stevenson 60) As soon as Jekyll had finished the letter and hidden it in a place that Hyde would never suspect, because he would never expect, Hyde reformed. “You did it didn’t you.” “Did what?” Jekyll asks innocently. “You know what! Don’t you try to hide things from me! No matter anyway, we don’t have time to fix your wrong doings. We must begin creating our last drink.” I’m afraid we don’t have time Hyde” who had begun boiling a pot of water. Then Jekyll takes out a substance and makes Hyde drink it. Hyde shrieks with surprise and falls on the floor dying in a subtle painless death. His last thoughts are “Why did you do it this way?” “So they will know that I died in peace,” Jekyll replies. <br />
<br />
<span style="background-color: yellow;"><u><b>Story #6</b></u></span><br />
“‘Jekyll,’ cried Utterson, with a loud voice, ‘I demand to see you’”(Stevenson 46). “Dang it, why had Poole let Utterson in?” Jekyll thought. “Because he’s onto us!” Hyde thought back. Jekyll was stuck in the body of Hyde again, and he feared it would be the last time. <br />
<br />
“Hyde! No one that is alive knows. We are safe.” Jekyll stated. <br />
<br />
”What about Poole? Hmm? If he’s seen you run to the lab one too many times.” <br />
<br />
”You need to stop worrying, no one knows.” <br />
<br />
”Well then hurry and drink the potion.” Hyde demands. <br />
<br />
”But I don’t want to, it tastes rather awful and people should know its you.” Jekyll replies. <br />
<br />
”No! Then they will kill us.” Hyde screams in his mind. <br />
<br />
”All the better if you aren’t around.” <br />
<br />
”But, you need me, you’re too old to continue living in your mangled body.” <br />
<br />
”But everyone is scared to death when they see you!” Jekyll exclaims<br />
<br />
”Well then they better die, if they can’t handle all of this!” <br />
<br />
”You are a deformed looking man with clothes that are about three sizes too big for him.” <br />
<br />
”Yes, everyone else is ugly, all average looking and using clothes that actually fit them.” Hyde sneers. <br />
<br />
”You are insane.” <br />
<br />
“Why thank you kind sir.” <br />
<br />
“That wasn’t a compliment.” Says Jekyll reaching for a knife. Hyde immediately tries to restrain the arm, fighting Jekyll. Jekyll maneuvers his hand and surprises Hyde. Hyde stops trying to force it and Jekyll inches closer to his neck. Hyde continues fighting knocking their body to the floor. <br />
<br />
“Give up Hyde, its been far too long I’ve let you control me.” Jekyll states in his mind. <br />
<br />
“I can’t and I will never, ever stop. This is my life on the line here too.” Hyde becomes angered, and pauses. <br />
<br />
“But, I need to protect other people, not just us.” Jekyll sighs. As Hyde thinks for a moment Jekyll takes this as an advantage and sticks the knife into himself and just lays there, content before his inevitable death. <br />
<br />
<span style="background-color: yellow;"><u><b>Story #7</b></u></span><br />
London hummed solemnly all around; but nearer at hand; the stillness was only broken by the sound of a footfall moving to and fro along the cabinet floor. “They have come” a voice sounded with a tone of concern. “Yes I know” replied the other. Voices sounded outside the door and Hyde stopped pacing. “Why have they come?” Hyde muttered with much annoyance. “They have come to help Hyde” Jekyll informed his partner. Poole continued to consult with Mr. Utterson. “Once” he said. “Once I heard it weeping!” “Weeping? How that?” said the lawyer, conscious of a sudden chill of horror. “Weeping like a woman or a lost soul.” Said the butler. “I came away with that upon my heart that I could have wept too.” “Why won’t he treat his master with respect?” Hyde muttered again with anger filling him up. “Because you are not his master.” Jekyll retorted a little ruder than he hoped. “Jekyll.” cried Mr. Utterson with a loud voice. “I demand to see you.” He paused a moment, but there came no reply. “I give you fail warning. Our suspicions are aroused, and I must and shall see you” He resumed, “if not by fair means, the by foul-if not of your consent, then by brute force.” “Utterson,” said the voice, “For god’s sake, have mercy!” Voices outside the cabinet door resumed their quieted talk. “Down with the door, Poole!” cried Utterson. Poole swung the axe over his shoulder, the blow shook the building, and the red baize door leaped against the lock and hinges. “Quickly I must take the poison!” Hyde shouted in fear and panic. “No! Hyde we still have much to do!” Jekyll tried to fight back. Another swing of the axe shook the house, biting at the baize door. Hyde quickly lunged for the chemical on the table, faster than Jekyll could react. “No I won’t let you!” Jekyll cried trying his best to shove the poison. A second swing hit the door. “Jekyll if they find me it’s all over! Just like Lanyon” Hyde threw back using all his strength to defeat Jekyll. A third then a forth swing was breaking the tough wood. “Sorry Jekyll but I am too important to be caught by a butler and a Lawyer” Hyde told Jekyll then drinking the poison. Jekyll stared at his mirror. Such a loyal, but strange mirror. <br />
<br />
<span style="background-color: yellow;"><u><b>Story #8</b></u></span><br />
Hyde pulled his coat up to his chin as an icy breeze flew by. As he did, he heard someone stumbling close, and began to get annoyed. He didn’t have time for some drunken lunatic or some other pushy person. The night was wasting away! He only had so long before the accursed Jekyll drank that putrid potion again and then he, Edward Hyde, would have to wait in the dark till Jekyll would lose control of himself and release his evil side. All Hyde wanted to do is make Jekyll submit himself to Hyde. As this thought occurred, The drunken man coughed the rancid smell of alcohol right in Hydes face. Then Hyde got a wicked idea. An evil wicked plan to make Jekyll submit himself. Hyde hoisted up his heavy set cane and with gave the man two quick blows to the head. The man crumpled to the ground and Hyde gave him a furious blow to the leg. Hyde smiled as he slammed the cane into the mans chest, hearing rips crack and break. The entertained killer allowed Jekyll to watch in horror as he then gave the man another blow so terrifyingly hard that his whole body rose off the pavement below. Hyde let out a soft laugh as he felt his prisoners terror. Finished, a smiling Hyde then stood back, panting as he admired his work. The man now was almost unrecognizable. Bones stuck out in various places and blood pooled around the body.. A young maid screamed in the distance as the culprit escaped into the groggy night, smiling at the deed that was done. <br />
<br />
<span style="background-color: yellow;"><u><b>Story #9</b></u></span><br />
The pains of the transformation roll over me like a tsunami crashing on the beach. “It will be over soon” I promise my tormented conscience. Soon I will come back to myself and everything will be okay. The pain subsides and I look into the mirror. Relief washes over me as I see my face-the face of Henry Jekyll-reflected in the glass. I hear footsteps below me. I can also make out the voices of my ever faithful butler, Poole, and… could it be…? Why Utterson is down there too! What good fortune; Utterson is just the person I need to see! His company will do me good. I rise and start towards the door. No sooner have I taken two steps when the pains return. <br />
<br />
I’m tired of this sniveling fool being in control! His intense guilt and remorse at my actions continually cloud his mind and prevent him from moving on. That was the last time that I will submit of my own accord! I rage forward now, intent on possessing this body on my own, without Jekyll’s influence! He will most likely put up a fight, but I will crush him mercilessly! Coward that he is, I will force him away and make him submit to me, and he will do it. I feel the wracking pains and feel the body-my body-begin to shrink as I return to stay. <br />
<br />
I’m on the floor now, groaning and squirming like an infant with a stomach ache. He wants to come back, he wants me gone. That cannot happen! I can hear Poole and Utterson on the staircase now, rapidly approaching. Utterson is calling out warnings, trying to stall Poole, trying to give me time. He must be aware of my condition. If only I could get Hyde back under. He has returned; I see him in the mirror. I must fight him. I sense his amusement at my thoughts. He thinks me a coward! Well I will show him. I struggle to possess my hands. Hyde is too surprised to stop me, and I’m able to mix the transforming draught and swallow it down before he brushes me aside again. <br />
<br />
No! This fool thinks to push me back under. Now he feels brave from his actions. The pains start again-I’m getting tired of this-and the body begins to grow and change yet again. I will not let this happen! I fight the drugs that make us change. Looking in the mirror, Jekyll cries out in my voice. His body has returned, yes, but with many of my features. The hands, the mouth, the eyes… Ha! My eyes look truly evil on the face of such a “kind man”. This temporary distraction permits Jekyll to seize control again. <br />
<br />
Now I realize that there is no beating Hyde. He will not submit, and I cannot submit. There is too much at stake here for me to let him be the sole controller of this body. And now Poole and Utterson are right outside the door! I beg Utterson for mercy, but in Hyde’s voice. They don’t think it’s me. I hear Utterson say that he hears Hyde’s voice and not mine. Utterson, Utterson it is me! But it is also Hyde. It will always be Hyde. I cannot control him anymore. He has become too strong for me. As much as we both love life, we cannot exist this way. I blame myself for unleashing Hyde. Giving him freedom has led to the ruin of both of us. Well, no more suffering. So great is my conviction that Hyde’s attempts to stop me don’t even bother me. I reach for a phial of some drug. I do not know what it is, nor do I care. It’s time to end this. <br />
<br />
I cannot reach Jekyll. What is he doing…? I see what he’s reaching for and understanding hits me like a ton of bricks. He intends to put a stop to everything. I consider struggling, but I realize it will be useless. I cannot break through to stop him. I know why he’s doing this, and while I hate having to end things this way, I have to agree with him. It has become too difficult for us to exist together. There was never really any hope of us existing together. <br />
<br />
Our minds seem to merge, and now we share the same thoughts. We grimace, and swallow the phial. A terrible burning rushes through our veins. We can feel our life slipping away. Even now as life is ebbing from us, we are at war with each other. Each feels the feral desire to be in control for those last precious seconds. We start twitching uncontrollably, and foam spews from between our lips. Our vision goes fuzzy and we see black spots. Our heart stops and now it’s really over. We cry out one more time, a bitter cry for the unfairness of life, and the light fades…Terron Jameshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03508184587009172827noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1369455855458939013.post-90213512188221237092015-01-14T21:11:00.000-07:002015-01-14T21:11:49.787-07:00True Sight's Official Reveal!<span class="fbPhotosPhotoCaption" data-ft="{"tn":"K"}" id="fbPhotoSnowliftCaption" tabindex="0"><span class="hasCaption">Seeing how the new book cover is leaking out, I figured I better jump on the bandwagon. After all, why wait?<br /> <br />
Soooo... what's better than one book from the Beholders series? TWO
BOOKS! It is with great honor and satisfaction that I officially
introduce True Sight, book two of the Beholders series! Well done again
with a gorgeous design, <a data-hovercard="/ajax/hovercard/page.php?id=311489482197802" href="https://www.facebook.com/JollyFishPress">Jolly Fish Press</a>!</span></span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhI4ClDRcw3ZZh1jhxyiUdoq33tLtWLXIFkuuUqiDS5RA17-t_bEfBtgArXP9IOqB48UJO85_OuwNJMp9J_eHPd9gxuHIUI60OFOLQYi9Gr19Bpdgiu3DKX1v1J6zfhyphenhyphenyPkd5RO7dWM7DNO/s1600/2015-01-14+Beholders+Promo+Pic.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhI4ClDRcw3ZZh1jhxyiUdoq33tLtWLXIFkuuUqiDS5RA17-t_bEfBtgArXP9IOqB48UJO85_OuwNJMp9J_eHPd9gxuHIUI60OFOLQYi9Gr19Bpdgiu3DKX1v1J6zfhyphenhyphenyPkd5RO7dWM7DNO/s1600/2015-01-14+Beholders+Promo+Pic.png" height="290" width="400" /></a></div>
<span class="fbPhotosPhotoCaption" data-ft="{"tn":"K"}" id="fbPhotoSnowliftCaption" tabindex="0"><span class="hasCaption"><br /> <br /> Seriously folks, if you liked Insight, yo<span class="text_exposed_show">u're
going to LOVE True Sight. I cannot wait for you to read it! Only one
more month before it hits the shelf! C'mon, February 17th! Get here
already!<br /> <br /> Now what you gonna do, my dedicated fans?! Share,
share, share! (please, please, please?) If I've learned anything about
selling books over the past 4 years, it's that I cannot make them
successful by myself. I NEED your help. Word of mouth is still the
number one seller of books, by a landslide.<br /> <br /> And what are you gonna do, world?! Buy, buy, buy!<br /> If you pre-order now, you'll receive a hefty discount! <br /> <a href="http://www.amazon.com/True-Sight-Beholders-Terron-James/dp/193996797X/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1421293465&sr=8-1&keywords=terron+james" rel="nofollow nofollow" target="_blank">http://www.amazon.com/<wbr></wbr><span class="word_break"></span>True-Sight-Beholders-Terron<wbr></wbr><span class="word_break"></span>-James/dp/193996797X/<wbr></wbr><span class="word_break"></span>ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1421<wbr></wbr><span class="word_break"></span>293465&sr=8-1&keywords=ter<wbr></wbr><span class="word_break"></span>ron+james</a><br /> <br />
(no hardcovers are being printed for book 2...yet... but if we get this
book selling like it should, I guarantee them in the future!)</span></span></span><br />
<br />Terron Jameshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03508184587009172827noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1369455855458939013.post-76200500676305733132014-02-06T22:46:00.000-07:002014-02-09T21:35:32.611-07:00What Values Drive You?About a week ago, I finally finished reading Christopher Paolini's series, the <i>Inheritance Cycle</i>. I have many varying opinions of the series, but one specific concept has recently intrigued me...<br>
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True Names.<br>
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If you haven't read any of the Eragon-centered books before, let me quickly familiarize you with the idea of True Names. To do this, I must first reference Plato's "Allegory of the Cave." If you don't feel like watching this short, state of the art, edge of your seat production, I have summarized it below.<br>
<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="//www.youtube.com/embed/UQfRdl3GTw4" width="420"></iframe><br>
Plato shows that everyone lives at certain levels of enlightenment. If someone spent their entire life in a cave, staring at shadows of deer projected upon the walls, they would believe that those shadows were "real" deer. If you turned them around and showed them the statues used to project the shadows, the concept would nearly incapacitate them. However, through diligent study and an open mind, they would finally understand the connection between the shadows and the statues. Likewise, the cave dwellers would be dazzled if you brought them out of the cave and showed them deer prancing through fields of grass.<br>
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Many philosophers have discussed this concept, arguing that as with Plato's example of the cave dwellers and their limited levels of enlightenment, we would be fools to think that deer prancing through fields of grass are "real" deer. There must be one "true deer," from which all other concepts and creations were developed. Whether or not I believe this logic is a mute point, but it leads us in a direction to better understand Paolini's development of True Names.<br>
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Now back to Eragon's story. For every entity in the kingdom of Alagaesia, there exists one True Name. Knowing this True Name enables a person to perfectly understand that entity. It also gives the person absolute control over that entity. These entities encompass everything, from rocks and dirt to creatures and, ultimately, humans. For humans, knowing your True Name was a terrifying prospect. You were forced into a reality check about who you truly were.<br>
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Aside from my typical fascination with fantasy-based concepts, I didn't think much of True Names while I was reading the <i>Inheritance Cycle</i>. However, when my wife and I started discussing a Relief Society activity she recently attended, everything I mentioned above morphed into a full circle. (Thanks, Dori!)<br>
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Dori made this one simple observation (or at least this is how I understood it through my wife's interpretation of her message). <b>Everyone should take the time to identify the core values that drive us, feed us, and bring us joy. </b>Once we realize these, our control over our own lives will escalate exponentially. We will become self-aware, recognizing the time we waste participating in activities that come nowhere even close to our core values. We will strive to incorporate those values more actively into our everyday lives.<br>
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I admit that Dori's idea was snazzy, but I wasn't really hooked until I started doing this for myself. Now, I feel like I'm finally capable of making connections and observations that had otherwise seemed impossible. Perhaps if I share my "True Name" with you, it might spur the thought process within yourself. *deep breath* Alright, here we go!<br>
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<span style="color: blue;"><b>Core Value 1 - INSPIRATION</b></span></div>
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I hunger for inspiration, both in giving and receiving. I'm the happiest I've ever been at my current teaching job, because I have daily opportunities to inspire my junior high students to appreciate literature and become better people--to be the change they want to see in the world. Of course, there is a spiritual component to this, as well. It's hard for me to describe the euphoria that washes over me every time I receive inspiration. (Perhaps it's like the addicting endorphin release my wife craves while running--one of her core values being Health.) Inspiration drove me to write this blog post tonight. I was so inspired by my inspiration, I felt inspired to further inspire everyone around me. (That's right, see what I just did there?) Yes, inspiration is definitely one of my top values!<br>
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<span style="color: blue;"><b>Core Value 2 - HARMONY</b></span></div>
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If you are familiar with the LDS religion, you might know about patriarchal blessings. Members of the LDS faith believe in seers, patriarchs who can part the veil separating us from God's dwelling. With this gift, seers view our lives temporarily through God's eyes. While doing this, they offer us a glimpse into our past, present, and future. Allow me to share a snippet from my own patriarchal blessing. <i>"I bless you with the ability to champion the cause of justice in troubled times, even when those around you are enraged or very coarse in their mannerisms... for you have the capability to exercise compassion and understanding in behalf of those who need it. I bless you... to be recognized by all for your gentle kindness."</i> I received this patriarchal blessing when I was 13 years old, before I even had a clue who I was myself. Now, I can testify with absolute certainty that Patriarch Spencer, the seer who gave me this blessing, was inspired by God. If you were to ask my 120 junior high students for the two standards I value most, I hope they would tell you <b>trust </b>and <b>respect</b>. If you scooch back a little in your perspective, you will see that these two standards lie at the heart of my core value, harmony. I love deeply, and likewise hurt deeply. It is hard for me to let things go, for better or for worse. Yet, through God's mercy, a good night's sleep always cures me of my daily pangs. I wake up every morning refreshed with a brand new start, concerns and anxieties washed away.<br>
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<span style="color: blue;"><b>Core Value 3 - RECREATION</b></span></div>
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For someone who feels so deeply, it comes at no surprise that I value recreation. Sometimes I feel completely overwhelmed by life, and desperately search for a release. This release most often comes in the form of movies, video games, music, and books. All four are passive ways to escape reality, while at the same time putting myself through an emotional cleanse. Also, my junior high students will tell you that when I play, I play hard. If anyone knows how to have a good time, it's me!<br>
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<span style="color: red;"><b>So, now that I've poured out my soul to you, anyone care to share their "True Name?" I promise not to usurp complete control over you (in the near future, at least).</b></span>Terron Jameshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03508184587009172827noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1369455855458939013.post-9399572928274305382014-01-23T20:50:00.002-07:002014-01-23T21:45:25.286-07:00KUED Innovative Teacher Nomination<b>At the beginning of this month, I received an email from KUED explaining that I had been nominated for their annual KUED Teacher Innovation Awards. At first, I thought it was spam, but after digging a little deeper, I discovered that it was indeed a valid email.</b><br />
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<b>I was speechless. I hadn't even heard of the award, let alone ever thought that I would qualify as a contestant (especially during my second year of teaching). It took a couple days for me to process the anonymous nomination. Who? How? Why? The answer finally came when I drafted my lengthy response to the nomination, which I have posted below.</b><br />
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<b>Why am I sharing this? Because I want to create a time stamp on an important event in my life. I didn't win the competition, but that couldn't be further from my mind. The nomination alone was humbling, but even more, my response dropped my jaw. I had never thought through everything that I do to give my 7th and 8th grade students a good Language Arts education. Call me conceited if you'd like, but I'm proud of myself. :)</b><br />
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<i>Dear KUED,</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>The reason for my last minute response is that I have been spending the past two days contemplating my classroom and teaching methods so that I might be able to give you a fully rounded response.</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>I assume you have all of my personal information, but I still want to provide the basics of my teaching background. In addition to what I share in this email, I encourage you to read this blog post that I wrote in 2011. It captures the essence of my choice to become a school teacher (<a href="http://terronjames.blogspot.com/2011/02/reading-changes-lives.html" target="_blank"><u>Reading Changes Lives</u></a>).</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>In 2011, I was a full-time author. I had just been laid off from a failing civil engineering firm. I didn’t begrudge the layoff, though. It enabled me to tour across Utah, providing free instructional workshops/assemblies to students K-12 (<a href="http://terronjames.blogspot.com/p/services.html" target="_blank"><u>tour summary</u></a>). I visited every school with one central focus, “Inspiring an unwavering passion for reading across the globe, one community at a time.”</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>During my tour, I spent two weeks at Excelsior Academy in Erda, UT, where my son was attending 1st grade. I tutored the junior high students in crafting competition-worthy personal essays. Of one hundred and twenty student submissions, over half were recognized as high merit essays and printed in a national publication (<a href="http://www.poeticpower.com/"><u>www.poeticpower.com</u></a>). In addition, Excelsior Academy was awarded a handsome grant for finishing as one of the top ten schools in the nation.</i><br />
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<i>The next fall (2012-2013), I was hired at Excelsior Academy as the full-time Language Arts teacher for junior high (through USOE’s ARL Program). My students grew in many different areas last year, but their greatest accomplishment revealed itself when we received our CRT results. My students averaged well above the national average, and 100% of my 8th graders had achieved a 3 or higher in Language Arts.</i><br />
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<i>With that background, let me respond specifically to your requests. As an obsessive “techy,” it is only fitting that I begin by listing the technological resources that I utilize every day in my classroom.</i><br />
<i>• C.O.W. (Computer on Wheels) charging station, with 30 student Macbook Air laptops</i><br />
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<i>• Dual input projector</i><br />
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<i>o Connection 1 = Apple TV (for my iPad and iPhone)</i><br />
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<i>o Connection 2 = rotated between my two laptops (1 pc, 1 mac)</i><br />
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<i>• Classroom surround speaker system</i><br />
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<i>o Wireless microphone</i><br />
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<i>o Multiple wired inputs (Apple TV, laptops)</i><br />
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<i>• Desktop wireless laser printer with auto duplexing (to print emailed essays and reports)</i><br />
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<i>As a published author, it is second nature for me to ramble in written form. In order to keep my response somewhat concise, I will first focus on my innovative and modern instructional techniques during last year’s lesson plan of The Diary of Anne Frank. After this, I will summarize other frequent and innovative uses of technology in my classroom.</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>I approached The Diary of Anne Frank with two goals in mind: a well-rounded education about the positive and negative events and effects of WW2 on a girl my students’ age, and to inspire them to appreciate the value of reading and writing literature.</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>Before diving into the book, I wanted my students to have a solid foundation regarding Anne Frank’s life in 1939 Europe. Consequently, students were given individual assignments to prepare a five-minute PowerPoint presentation on historical, religious, political, and military subjects during that time (all of which Anne Frank encountered). My students jumped at the chance to give a report that didn’t involve essays. They researched and presented with confidence, while I filled in any critical pieces of information. I am overly passionate about the events surrounding WW2, and my enthusiasm bled into my students. For three days and without any prompts from myself, they participated in engaging conversations with the presenters and each other. By the time I gave my final pre-reading instruction, they had already become engaged in Anne’s life without even knowing who she was. Armed with a large supply of tissue boxes and emotional music playing through my surround speakers, I had my students close their eyes as I walked them through the experiences of a WW2 Jew—from the moment of their capture to the extraction of their murdered relatives from gas chambers. Everyone was in tears, myself included, and the experience only strengthened our bond with each other and respect for the many sacrifices surrounding WW2.</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>During our in-class student reading (powered by a wireless microphone), I utilized many different literary strategies to keep them engaged.</i><br />
<i>• We sectioned off a portion of my white board, where we wrote the life changing dates and events Anne experienced.</i><br />
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<i>• While reading, my class was divided in half. One half hunted for vocabulary words, which we first defined together with inferencing, then they looked up accurate definitions with dictionaries or via dictionary.com on the student laptops. The other half of the class focused on our comprehension packet, helping to identify pages and paragraphs that would help answer their questions which would later appear in quizzes. When either side found the location of an answer, they would share their discover with the rest of the class. Everyone ultimately had to complete both packets.</i><br />
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<i>• During many sections of the reading, I utilized my in-class technology to bring Anne’s story to life…</i><br />
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<i> o My students expected me to interrupt them frequently as I wandered up and down the aisles with my iPad, posing questions and constantly referencing back to their pre-reading presentations and packets. With the iPad, I frequently projected maps, pictures, and 3D models of Anne’s “Secret Annex.” </i><br />
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<i> o We watched the opening air-raid clip from the Chronicles of Narnia on my projector, then used the laptops to research and discuss the concussive power of shock waves and the exportation of children from major cities.</i><br />
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<i> o During an entry when Anne talked about the terrifying anti-aircraft guns and machine gun fire in the streets, I interrupted their reading with those same sound effects roaring through my surround speakers.</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>Even though it took many months for us to complete our reading of Anne Frank’s diary (due to other vocabulary, grammar, and essay instruction), I never heard a word of complaint from my students. They eagerly awaited their next chance to feast upon Anne’s words. The pinnacle of their instruction unveiled itself during our “Day of Silence” near the end of the book. Every student received a 3” X 3” neon yellow sticker with the words, “I am having a day of silence in memory of Anne Frank,” printed on it. The students wore the stickers over their hearts, and remained completely silent the entire day, unless required to speak by a faculty member. Even during lunch, students refrained from talking. For homework that night, the students wrote a journal response about the thoughts and feelings they experienced while “forced” to remain silent. However, the whole day required zero management from any faculty, and that’s what impressed me the most. Their love and respect for Anne Frank had burned itself upon their hearts.</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>I encourage my students to have strong opinions. I have a poster hanging at the front of my classroom that says, “Be the change you want to see in the world,” and I push that philosophy all year long. Two podiums sit at the front of my class for just that purpose. We frequently debate over complicated circumstances without clear answers. One of these concerned the two Jews Anne saw fleeing down the street outside her “Secret Annex.” I asked my students what they would have done if they were in her shoes, invite the Jews in or remain silent. The depth of my students’ perspectives and arguments in such circumstances astounded me.</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>Now, I’ll quickly summarize other frequent circumstances when I use technology in my classroom:<br />
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• Every class begins with a bell ringer—typed instructions projected on the board from my laptop, requiring grammar corrections, a written response, or a quiz.</i><br />
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<i>• While students are working on the bell ringer projected from my laptop, I use my iPad to take role directly into our online database, Compass. Parents receive a real-time update of their child’s attendance and grades through this website.</i><br />
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<i>• Through Compass, I also host course blogs that contain important documents and instructions. I also use Compass to communicate with parents, whether as mass emails about assignments or to one specific parent about their child’s behavior or grade.</i><br />
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<i>• The iPad/Apple TV combo has become invaluable to me because it allows me to interact with my class without ever turning my back to them. I can wander up and down aisles, observing student behavior while I manage my instruction with interactive apps on my iPad. One such app is SlideShark. It is used to broadcast PowerPoint presentations, and it’s powerful enough that I can use my iPhone as a remote to run the PowerPoint on my iPad. This is handy when a student needs my iPad for a closer view of the presentation or to see my clarifying notes.</i><br />
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<i>• Another app that has become invaluable to me is Name Selector. While I teach class from my iPad, I keep my iPhone in my front shirt pocket with the Name Selector app running. Whenever I ask a question, I’ll hit a button on the app that randomly generates one of the student’s names. That student is then required to answer the question. This is much handier than being stuck in one spot with a cup of popsicle sticks, or switching between apps on my iPad.</i><br />
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<i>• During poetry study, students are given paper copies while I project the poem onto my board using my iPad. Through an app called pdf-notes, I annotate the poem to help my students extract meaning, while my students model my notes on their own paper.</i><br />
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<i>• Every worksheet and exam is corrected by my students from an answer key projected upon the board from my iPad. Answer keys vary from simple worksheets to interactive pdfs with highlighted notes on how to grade each section.</i><br />
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<i>• During Shurley Grammar study (an intensive Q&A flow to identify parts of speech), sentences are projected on the board. One student will sit at the board and write as the rest of the class asks and answers the questions to label each word with its correct part of speech.</i><br />
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<i>• As with my exams from Anne Frank, any lesson can be bolstered with quick and easy access from mobile internet (through my iPad). I can look up pictures of the types of dogs in The Call of the Wild, trace out the path Huckleberry Finn took on a digital map, instantly look up abstract meanings, etc. All of this is done seamlessly without need to sit down at my desk.</i><br />
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<i>• Once a week, I have a “Computer Day.” Every desk is donned with a laptop from the C.O.W., so each student can work on their own computer without ever needing to leave my classroom. We workshop proper MLA formatting and how to utilize Google Docs. We practice typing through the free, yet powerful, website www.typingweb.com, in which I manage all of my students’ typing accounts to track their typing speed, accuracy, improvements, and completion of lessons. We also use the laptops to take practice CRT exams through www.myutips.org–to study proper techniques for answering Language Arts questions, as well as rotate through important testing strategies with exams designed to push their abilities to the limits. Lastly, I tutor my students on how to track their grades through Compass, and manage their missing work.</i><br />
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<i>• When a class earns excellent homework and test scores, I reward them by turning off the lights on computer day. My students thrill over the opportunity to use their laptop’s backlit keyboard in the dark. </i><br />
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<i>• During Study Hall (our 8th period class designated for students to complete homework and make up missing work), I frequently have students visiting my classroom with questions or requests. It is difficult to manage my own classroom’s behavior while other students are coming and going. I have found the best way to manage this is with www.classdojo.com. I project the website onto the board from one laptop, while I use the other laptop to help other students with their missing work, etc. If I see anyone in my class off task, it’s as simple as shifting my hand to the other keyboard, clicking on their classdojo avatar, and marking the appropriate misbehavior. When that sound pours out of my surround speakers, it silences the class without any word from me.</i><br />
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<i>• I have created an Excel spreadsheet that tracks weekly grade trends for each of my student’s classes. Once a week, I print out these reports for my Study Hall students and have quick interviews with them to evaluate their grades and set goals for improvement.</i><br />
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<i>• My incentive program gives students opportunities to look at funny pictures, listen to entertaining audio, or watch 30-second video clips that I have preselected. These are projected from my laptop and broadcast over the surround speakers.</i><br />
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<i>• While my students take exams or have independent study, I play carefully selected classical music softly over my surround speakers. This has dramatically increased their focus and scores.</i><br />
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<i>• Because I utilize so many electronics in my classroom, I have found the best way to manage my files is through Dropbox. Although my students don’t see it, Dropbox saves me oodles of time because I can simply save a file on one computer, then it is automatically updated on the other machines before I can even walk across the classroom. An example of this convenience came during an exam. I realized I had forgotten to digitize an old paper answer key, so I quickly took a picture of it with my iPhone, which synced with my iPad, then I used the iPad to broadcast the makeshift answer key through the projector.</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>I could continue with more examples, but I fear I have made this email too long already. Thank you again for your consideration for this reward. I am honored with just the nomination.</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>Best,</i><br />
<i>Mr. Terron James</i><br />
<a href="http://www.excelsior-academy.org/" target="_blank"><u><i>Excelsior Academy</i></u></a><br />
<i>Junior High English</i><br />
<a href="http://www.terronjames.com/"><u><i>www.TerronJames.com</i></u></a>Terron Jameshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03508184587009172827noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1369455855458939013.post-14422533620599423772013-12-30T15:04:00.005-07:002013-12-30T15:04:56.805-07:002013 SLC Comic Con Giveaway!What better way to to reactivate my blogging bug again than with Comic Con? Below are pics of some awesome costumes I saw from
my booth at 2013 SLC Comic Con. (Thanks to Travis and Scott T. for helping me acquire all these pics!)<br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Now for the giveaway! <b><span style="color: red;">The first person to leave a comment with the name of every costume will <u>win a free copy of my book, <a href="http://www.terronjames.com/" target="_blank">INSIGHT</a></u>!</span> </b>Make sure that I know who you are and have a way of contacting you. I'd hate for all of your hard work to be for nothing.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Ready, set, go!</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCC4E8BtQFFTEr50qylBva97HYmEC8PZKFCa88OJZ_3L7ldlJ9O5lYq6AsW7i6x03d-CN2tAFBjJpiiRkNMeBsc1qrcPAyIAhnQ-TaOEIs98PwMKcjg4m6lTjZYgLnqLX01wy6y1XinEZ4/s1600/1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCC4E8BtQFFTEr50qylBva97HYmEC8PZKFCa88OJZ_3L7ldlJ9O5lYq6AsW7i6x03d-CN2tAFBjJpiiRkNMeBsc1qrcPAyIAhnQ-TaOEIs98PwMKcjg4m6lTjZYgLnqLX01wy6y1XinEZ4/s640/1.jpg" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">#1</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnIXEV9-doi6TvZSIO0ozrU10r-33RirAFB9nATK1iG4Je1ZlpE-nTcq4WLDT5WCbgK7G8PuYHreSDch-xBjL8CVb3w44cc7SW_11lIYMa0OIUGQyGDkFybIEV807dbQNLlYv7gWHza1PX/s1600/2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnIXEV9-doi6TvZSIO0ozrU10r-33RirAFB9nATK1iG4Je1ZlpE-nTcq4WLDT5WCbgK7G8PuYHreSDch-xBjL8CVb3w44cc7SW_11lIYMa0OIUGQyGDkFybIEV807dbQNLlYv7gWHza1PX/s640/2.JPG" width="248" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">#2</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfZ_zRZUvleLypWETyQPp69Ync1SNlDkpktcXijVFHAn9_4qUMmH3MAtTIKwcdheS5v34YLO26zAQzu9t6rCAMwbHKEj2dsIsxutN2aJwIyaiYDOmqXYBnuTBKxNgpL0lz2GLrFgqXfr7a/s1600/3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="340" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfZ_zRZUvleLypWETyQPp69Ync1SNlDkpktcXijVFHAn9_4qUMmH3MAtTIKwcdheS5v34YLO26zAQzu9t6rCAMwbHKEj2dsIsxutN2aJwIyaiYDOmqXYBnuTBKxNgpL0lz2GLrFgqXfr7a/s400/3.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">#3</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiC0ov7MGs7i3Eexb4kVzSWEwKzLhyT8rBisFWBRntUpSM6xwjUzG3q5pZpiBWYIFEPcsZH3QUqbAJvd_cgp7wnT4LtrgEDrrxaa2GxOv-ATXxrH5AJYx6rnvYS7uTglMQ3PuCf2LEJ0YWh/s1600/4.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiC0ov7MGs7i3Eexb4kVzSWEwKzLhyT8rBisFWBRntUpSM6xwjUzG3q5pZpiBWYIFEPcsZH3QUqbAJvd_cgp7wnT4LtrgEDrrxaa2GxOv-ATXxrH5AJYx6rnvYS7uTglMQ3PuCf2LEJ0YWh/s400/4.JPG" width="390" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">#4</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMdd0aI7UwChExTJnOe36-q-5N5roEq4lCoUmDX-h8EDOa2ERX7n5fDYERvpnAUuMnXwd4wcUsq2P2j2U6SxdEzr63P4lymBhGugQLs1TgQdI55g_RhdrbFkjWem1-gHn0bVQkF91NoqW_/s1600/5.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMdd0aI7UwChExTJnOe36-q-5N5roEq4lCoUmDX-h8EDOa2ERX7n5fDYERvpnAUuMnXwd4wcUsq2P2j2U6SxdEzr63P4lymBhGugQLs1TgQdI55g_RhdrbFkjWem1-gHn0bVQkF91NoqW_/s640/5.JPG" width="254" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">#5</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzBovfOgcXyF8VnIVeSuYkP1r52GtE0zZ5twxOO4WLsEoUW-QDzrvJTTBLx8G3m9JO3x6O4TcrroIqTA2bdPpkKOCzLaRIT6jLbdfpgLzZvutG_93g_SCf4Kyjx9yrOHLlxI3jlLOqddA3/s1600/6.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzBovfOgcXyF8VnIVeSuYkP1r52GtE0zZ5twxOO4WLsEoUW-QDzrvJTTBLx8G3m9JO3x6O4TcrroIqTA2bdPpkKOCzLaRIT6jLbdfpgLzZvutG_93g_SCf4Kyjx9yrOHLlxI3jlLOqddA3/s640/6.JPG" width="328" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">#6</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnbCIbzyujSBf6nKmr4Cstkx3X253Yy_axD-aitzWMrFppekeZXgB-rthx-RGcH2tEzBCaKKvCknWTz7N-AATukCCEU2J_eAPPL7OX7tan1FMjbsHSWsFzxvFCJZVcQLV1Bzc1Eu_hvQ_n/s1600/7.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnbCIbzyujSBf6nKmr4Cstkx3X253Yy_axD-aitzWMrFppekeZXgB-rthx-RGcH2tEzBCaKKvCknWTz7N-AATukCCEU2J_eAPPL7OX7tan1FMjbsHSWsFzxvFCJZVcQLV1Bzc1Eu_hvQ_n/s640/7.JPG" width="286" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">#7</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2L7K2eaAHk9qD_EHvtxXTJuxDbf5hOn-14AYAO5tiQxHhKAF3QrrkfjhzfaQ6qg8IYK1hyn2OBchT6gYaA2Ub-kpOtj4g-M9DhzHT2OCcukiOcKp_h3hT62i63HvlMyG8VjSADRB93hHR/s1600/8.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2L7K2eaAHk9qD_EHvtxXTJuxDbf5hOn-14AYAO5tiQxHhKAF3QrrkfjhzfaQ6qg8IYK1hyn2OBchT6gYaA2Ub-kpOtj4g-M9DhzHT2OCcukiOcKp_h3hT62i63HvlMyG8VjSADRB93hHR/s640/8.jpg" width="482" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">#8</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0ODg8CkKIeEWkXabnD5d4Smxf1eMQl9qHgp07gypjkHxdv5aZloJ4R9YcFYwX1_TzhxTNAvW09JnbMlfCW52qy2YUlw60ZntipIShmj3CuUGd89LEw6PLUNcVDrhEWqByOI1AufK-GATR/s1600/9.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="298" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0ODg8CkKIeEWkXabnD5d4Smxf1eMQl9qHgp07gypjkHxdv5aZloJ4R9YcFYwX1_TzhxTNAvW09JnbMlfCW52qy2YUlw60ZntipIShmj3CuUGd89LEw6PLUNcVDrhEWqByOI1AufK-GATR/s400/9.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">#9</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-10eieFhn-MOX4zfg27PTujRV-YYvuJ6EET81OOol1f7QlPpbCdclaTWFoDoQ0n-GbqlpCwmoA7VoH0xufjhac8wFDxhYVLvxLODWOUr0KVGofQEgtv_6xap9HKZXT5tI0AK07EmJ91FM/s1600/10.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-10eieFhn-MOX4zfg27PTujRV-YYvuJ6EET81OOol1f7QlPpbCdclaTWFoDoQ0n-GbqlpCwmoA7VoH0xufjhac8wFDxhYVLvxLODWOUr0KVGofQEgtv_6xap9HKZXT5tI0AK07EmJ91FM/s640/10.JPG" width="288" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">#10</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXcLxPDxTINJusQN80OAfxcJF6K4beFPS8atE-EuRD7SGuzZqE-aBZ7GOLnt5wqF4OR0vo6GC2YtxAKpT_wRpHk6hZkd921xlzW2SY8bDcZPDAgukzJKJDPxJ55_SmZKL1E4eL54trLmjq/s1600/11.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXcLxPDxTINJusQN80OAfxcJF6K4beFPS8atE-EuRD7SGuzZqE-aBZ7GOLnt5wqF4OR0vo6GC2YtxAKpT_wRpHk6hZkd921xlzW2SY8bDcZPDAgukzJKJDPxJ55_SmZKL1E4eL54trLmjq/s640/11.JPG" width="202" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">#11</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvuzzYyWzhiwJ-SMUW9KKStL7Q_nlwVh0G4eqq_kO3ESn6tS2DcZINv9ruys2MitOcP213_m9odl9E1L36xiSB4EEx004ZIbRjz6us8GWd5P1eusZYPaQ4CHe0V7lUCeI_JIX52pwPXAiD/s1600/12.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvuzzYyWzhiwJ-SMUW9KKStL7Q_nlwVh0G4eqq_kO3ESn6tS2DcZINv9ruys2MitOcP213_m9odl9E1L36xiSB4EEx004ZIbRjz6us8GWd5P1eusZYPaQ4CHe0V7lUCeI_JIX52pwPXAiD/s640/12.jpg" width="332" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">#12</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJb_LPPCpsIhK4gUb6NkmxoDq9TgucWlZUDVWpyMOhogEtLiMDJc344wjxNHabjx_1xw-FUriqDF0KwwWpAmMTzt_XGkwTyuVtQGKqiKL_PKQVIqA5VNskxpjxqeEfkm3i4LrTRQYnCiJy/s1600/13.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJb_LPPCpsIhK4gUb6NkmxoDq9TgucWlZUDVWpyMOhogEtLiMDJc344wjxNHabjx_1xw-FUriqDF0KwwWpAmMTzt_XGkwTyuVtQGKqiKL_PKQVIqA5VNskxpjxqeEfkm3i4LrTRQYnCiJy/s640/13.JPG" width="328" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">#13</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8V0ul9xT03U6NkSXu3dvOfP9GRGwA6DJq4buP6JFgzh8RPtCse4he3I1SMy6STQaYnxZ8YgXt_4zgE3z_gbqAt66tQJ87L51OSurBbvpdMNk-ek3x_faBlLAbfqkcY0rtP90VaYvKEFxc/s1600/14.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8V0ul9xT03U6NkSXu3dvOfP9GRGwA6DJq4buP6JFgzh8RPtCse4he3I1SMy6STQaYnxZ8YgXt_4zgE3z_gbqAt66tQJ87L51OSurBbvpdMNk-ek3x_faBlLAbfqkcY0rtP90VaYvKEFxc/s640/14.JPG" width="426" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">#14</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6vtlvDNmEktxQHAh0iyKxxqBoKRJvJBzpR3p9gGtM5oubTKyEKMbkieSxoMCv4ec0Q7qkkOP8-g9Fd3WhLMBYrAMNk4AsdpmXozLprQbxskXi1av6bEhqMEJiJa1RIwq-6v2OIW1jANa1/s1600/15.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6vtlvDNmEktxQHAh0iyKxxqBoKRJvJBzpR3p9gGtM5oubTKyEKMbkieSxoMCv4ec0Q7qkkOP8-g9Fd3WhLMBYrAMNk4AsdpmXozLprQbxskXi1av6bEhqMEJiJa1RIwq-6v2OIW1jANa1/s400/15.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">#15</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVWyu4uwqF7OCrRiol2CAUOBesvsg-HTJrdSU88NTwqhl3KhqIzWgcNSlCYE9mj5Kf9JpPjn8ma_oFwaT_xSC1_n-LMAToUB2b5F81hBYdennyf_xDJj1kXFH0Y-6dJn3yObe13h1_9vdw/s1600/16.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVWyu4uwqF7OCrRiol2CAUOBesvsg-HTJrdSU88NTwqhl3KhqIzWgcNSlCYE9mj5Kf9JpPjn8ma_oFwaT_xSC1_n-LMAToUB2b5F81hBYdennyf_xDJj1kXFH0Y-6dJn3yObe13h1_9vdw/s640/16.jpg" width="308" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">#16</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgu_I3eydd3zhlwkKjUHQi-bQ17bFWl5QOcSvTTUgvZYH-5DrHdRJYuqGrwz4Ms-7Wh_3YdURk8V21z4h85SNlxInlrt_Gr6UpJUq732_5C35bMAwDSGX-nGYHoBkqfnJ4zmLIp7iZu1ids/s1600/17.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgu_I3eydd3zhlwkKjUHQi-bQ17bFWl5QOcSvTTUgvZYH-5DrHdRJYuqGrwz4Ms-7Wh_3YdURk8V21z4h85SNlxInlrt_Gr6UpJUq732_5C35bMAwDSGX-nGYHoBkqfnJ4zmLIp7iZu1ids/s400/17.jpg" width="377" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">#17</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNcOagNu52NQRvDlE5NGLRamCMaQZXABMaH7OIq6Tn2pRi1EDJ5nIbH3yIayoURYN0f1b-aCmUuUlxEVIQmNTpS2Cm9BAOH8NYg77lE6e2SexmcOFsuCw-32fwiN4TvXkDB_WYQrqJHfIv/s1600/18.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNcOagNu52NQRvDlE5NGLRamCMaQZXABMaH7OIq6Tn2pRi1EDJ5nIbH3yIayoURYN0f1b-aCmUuUlxEVIQmNTpS2Cm9BAOH8NYg77lE6e2SexmcOFsuCw-32fwiN4TvXkDB_WYQrqJHfIv/s640/18.JPG" width="488" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">#18</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZ_oZZi8Pe0S9oNTr8UYi8R9WyB0_iR-Np-mRrVRSztWH8v-XBVDbljVISE8pAnvgm0VxYBlOTISA8tLVSBHrG5zzGzffRNA8JynQAiTDqvEO2kDRA-3wtSJAmd5erDbsv9k5-OJYNYq9i/s1600/19.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="396" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZ_oZZi8Pe0S9oNTr8UYi8R9WyB0_iR-Np-mRrVRSztWH8v-XBVDbljVISE8pAnvgm0VxYBlOTISA8tLVSBHrG5zzGzffRNA8JynQAiTDqvEO2kDRA-3wtSJAmd5erDbsv9k5-OJYNYq9i/s400/19.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">#19</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEig9KzCAAJ-XXVBP_aNI1VXaR4GATo6D37iHYunNSIKf8dntfqDBby0fU-nPegETcNDAwSMOAu_9dmOYhmp6SgKdAzRZo0jwBxZksboN3zzRaBzPneChFI6kv73ygtl6IDsxQZsAkRnjjIY/s1600/20.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEig9KzCAAJ-XXVBP_aNI1VXaR4GATo6D37iHYunNSIKf8dntfqDBby0fU-nPegETcNDAwSMOAu_9dmOYhmp6SgKdAzRZo0jwBxZksboN3zzRaBzPneChFI6kv73ygtl6IDsxQZsAkRnjjIY/s640/20.jpg" width="272" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">#20</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPocpWSOUB9bmnQdpO_xNPAMNbw2-A4rg7QOhLwhVbjgyTVwX2RbC5VotxhY2F3LTp3fmZQMujicYX8opFHKYoVf1LzaD3Q77y103JuZSykjnbCMWLMT6cOckSe3IhE9a6MUfI5D_nVRhv/s1600/21.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPocpWSOUB9bmnQdpO_xNPAMNbw2-A4rg7QOhLwhVbjgyTVwX2RbC5VotxhY2F3LTp3fmZQMujicYX8opFHKYoVf1LzaD3Q77y103JuZSykjnbCMWLMT6cOckSe3IhE9a6MUfI5D_nVRhv/s640/21.JPG" width="262" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">#21</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNrGoxdAtdU6keNCiNHUk_EiOT7UqyaLlmI8SxSRh4MccDxFXBvImxPoS2TSeuVbbbFxD5v-dbdsgoVPhutr9vtoFi6NX6Z-GQR3zyJNq5aEUE1LU73a5isBw83Sas8GpmAeqtRyuUS16b/s1600/22.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNrGoxdAtdU6keNCiNHUk_EiOT7UqyaLlmI8SxSRh4MccDxFXBvImxPoS2TSeuVbbbFxD5v-dbdsgoVPhutr9vtoFi6NX6Z-GQR3zyJNq5aEUE1LU73a5isBw83Sas8GpmAeqtRyuUS16b/s640/22.JPG" width="472" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">#22</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYZ66djw59Ko6yZuYXouTnts9T2cgsIkTW8nqN1KVysUFBlNKLupFJOu3E92F0qJ4-JFMK6_DU3jOfcG8pomn3oDKE8pgUujEmV0HwjlMROLItqdwfeii6bjUcVIR9J9Zf_Xe_DJ5tAtl_/s1600/23.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYZ66djw59Ko6yZuYXouTnts9T2cgsIkTW8nqN1KVysUFBlNKLupFJOu3E92F0qJ4-JFMK6_DU3jOfcG8pomn3oDKE8pgUujEmV0HwjlMROLItqdwfeii6bjUcVIR9J9Zf_Xe_DJ5tAtl_/s640/23.jpg" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">#23</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXezelt4u0HreoBICjbXK_mCG4NAQynuqtCk8L_jr7jwglf-iauHg1jermN6HbU1nHJGI7nIG-1NZjoMSeyYfhygsdxrvNBjc5Lfa1x8FuicHz6iVqyUY_stxQFPl-_ENJfj1aV-ahrtGx/s1600/24.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXezelt4u0HreoBICjbXK_mCG4NAQynuqtCk8L_jr7jwglf-iauHg1jermN6HbU1nHJGI7nIG-1NZjoMSeyYfhygsdxrvNBjc5Lfa1x8FuicHz6iVqyUY_stxQFPl-_ENJfj1aV-ahrtGx/s640/24.JPG" width="314" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">#24</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEighkKgWo9-YLvLtUSu_R0cZCzbv4aK0OsfsxTob-6b-9Z4dIDTqxCZ0pm-6tqehNR5vSRd5oqsJ296ZCSyDYq8YZWV5e3VlHexWMgKSfPDyI9NvS0cQQ4hamLPymE3ZRyFj293m449ZUlN/s1600/25.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEighkKgWo9-YLvLtUSu_R0cZCzbv4aK0OsfsxTob-6b-9Z4dIDTqxCZ0pm-6tqehNR5vSRd5oqsJ296ZCSyDYq8YZWV5e3VlHexWMgKSfPDyI9NvS0cQQ4hamLPymE3ZRyFj293m449ZUlN/s640/25.JPG" width="302" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">#25</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWoBwOBwC7qPnqh0jtcClmJyRnrmVQI2q2nJpGQin6VvhRhmKk6TGRq85CIwR4Zog4uLdB5mVGXgOgvnC_nGTRqltPDPLYl_A8ipzCN0BlUBtB-fLC8Q02ZpdIbON4eeThDSCY4GQo8aqy/s1600/26.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWoBwOBwC7qPnqh0jtcClmJyRnrmVQI2q2nJpGQin6VvhRhmKk6TGRq85CIwR4Zog4uLdB5mVGXgOgvnC_nGTRqltPDPLYl_A8ipzCN0BlUBtB-fLC8Q02ZpdIbON4eeThDSCY4GQo8aqy/s640/26.jpg" width="282" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">#26</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjd83PjZSJTS-3D4lsDf2S4GhlkuQmasrqH_V4eJZuH_XRtP03kmwTOHki1NSjH3vwwo6PeBpeQrB0rqPiRkDnsu8vPjT4d2QOPry6GbzjRdNuqSwCmtGLzQj6wbnCwVMbrJhsiO_ntpD67/s1600/27.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjd83PjZSJTS-3D4lsDf2S4GhlkuQmasrqH_V4eJZuH_XRtP03kmwTOHki1NSjH3vwwo6PeBpeQrB0rqPiRkDnsu8vPjT4d2QOPry6GbzjRdNuqSwCmtGLzQj6wbnCwVMbrJhsiO_ntpD67/s640/27.jpg" width="276" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">#27</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHozQx0fSpE_Gi_IH7zQJHN2mFcB2emWJuezoLWFzPt11iMavsOjwhIvWrrYzU1Nk_G0JcRVPpaPBLZ6DaDL9J3bLAQoYs23B4NMc77KDjFgQKoaRZlROrVJlYWJoaopfoBCoTbcqVjwvr/s1600/28.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHozQx0fSpE_Gi_IH7zQJHN2mFcB2emWJuezoLWFzPt11iMavsOjwhIvWrrYzU1Nk_G0JcRVPpaPBLZ6DaDL9J3bLAQoYs23B4NMc77KDjFgQKoaRZlROrVJlYWJoaopfoBCoTbcqVjwvr/s640/28.JPG" width="566" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">#28</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5Vkul5HkDAq6p9LEoQ6vDvMUmw0racfKHeBYua0vulsM9pU0o6RExAnRvDBOLjqzd6J6BCuRCc3hyphenhyphenUTXVDcsK7fiev2ulvYMZlKzivWecftUkQWqANhfnOdpGyQ2qMPMEHYYME2MlWLPg/s1600/29.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5Vkul5HkDAq6p9LEoQ6vDvMUmw0racfKHeBYua0vulsM9pU0o6RExAnRvDBOLjqzd6J6BCuRCc3hyphenhyphenUTXVDcsK7fiev2ulvYMZlKzivWecftUkQWqANhfnOdpGyQ2qMPMEHYYME2MlWLPg/s400/29.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">#29</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgex9VpeN-u2YaWP10kwlTn5a9cS-aSzm7ONJ0qPYqygpnvpbS897Vwp7PdaXOykyJbP3YIpQJSQ6sb5SYTErLz8TEbK18uyzhsYhSpnVmAcsqsH9lmRtHSvVPoY5eMeMKbRMSAusZhyKvK/s1600/30.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgex9VpeN-u2YaWP10kwlTn5a9cS-aSzm7ONJ0qPYqygpnvpbS897Vwp7PdaXOykyJbP3YIpQJSQ6sb5SYTErLz8TEbK18uyzhsYhSpnVmAcsqsH9lmRtHSvVPoY5eMeMKbRMSAusZhyKvK/s640/30.jpg" width="374" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">#30</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibzvb_qCSH8PR-39YJj3r-clydo1XDXeSVB9utwvcLIXbXmgVubMfcWP8B35iBVGka9gxUwO8P9WffwVfG6WIXPjW-1qOTdx6E4pfMxcdoTx9Wt8IKYaqdYP3rGySZMqPafE0IpK-riItg/s1600/31.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibzvb_qCSH8PR-39YJj3r-clydo1XDXeSVB9utwvcLIXbXmgVubMfcWP8B35iBVGka9gxUwO8P9WffwVfG6WIXPjW-1qOTdx6E4pfMxcdoTx9Wt8IKYaqdYP3rGySZMqPafE0IpK-riItg/s640/31.jpg" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">#31</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgk3K7IPhsIa9Gi3ShEapgglukFhAaUFudlR6rVlwSLOLp8-JOUWU3-uvD020Pobair5uZ4IibKst5dwrEDWScM0Zq1lBr8Zo3OQFj9kHCHBJjwJx-qRHGPgcKsnu1ve3W_3KEv4pcDMrMQ/s1600/32.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgk3K7IPhsIa9Gi3ShEapgglukFhAaUFudlR6rVlwSLOLp8-JOUWU3-uvD020Pobair5uZ4IibKst5dwrEDWScM0Zq1lBr8Zo3OQFj9kHCHBJjwJx-qRHGPgcKsnu1ve3W_3KEv4pcDMrMQ/s640/32.JPG" width="292" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">#32</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWVv0SpKCRtR2hc_gOICz26pQVoIyvjLtvNW1UUrMfjzrUU6kWlC3rrvjkMe_h8ZpNZwX42p47JNj8LjTeAZpS1N91AQ8ZLzGwHQWq9sWm5KhS9I17EdZb_A_PYre0-IrzaW9ij5nwYfBX/s1600/33.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="291" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWVv0SpKCRtR2hc_gOICz26pQVoIyvjLtvNW1UUrMfjzrUU6kWlC3rrvjkMe_h8ZpNZwX42p47JNj8LjTeAZpS1N91AQ8ZLzGwHQWq9sWm5KhS9I17EdZb_A_PYre0-IrzaW9ij5nwYfBX/s400/33.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">#33</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_dYOSYj7MNIMQl_4hwP9JalsUV6CfK1capJltmjgyXw_NwDQgQg3pQd2skbDFyc8gAhmZbqaEFq86M3G9LYOqTWNxkCDOi-enSabB-AfREpg5Bow2eNW5XXQz5qv4NDyHwNoRXtLhkVtM/s1600/34.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="278" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_dYOSYj7MNIMQl_4hwP9JalsUV6CfK1capJltmjgyXw_NwDQgQg3pQd2skbDFyc8gAhmZbqaEFq86M3G9LYOqTWNxkCDOi-enSabB-AfREpg5Bow2eNW5XXQz5qv4NDyHwNoRXtLhkVtM/s400/34.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">#34</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiHyJs7OLL-wcpu8NNh3fk87lTQyF1O5nH-cAhLFeL_64FhM0m2yuv2opeOruze3BXWP98zQEgE7D7UeGZmNdkOjTbtm92GtVMGkMTDvyQdtXqB-eehKyyKGHzHF_s4OV_rnwefYCNHiNJ/s1600/35.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiHyJs7OLL-wcpu8NNh3fk87lTQyF1O5nH-cAhLFeL_64FhM0m2yuv2opeOruze3BXWP98zQEgE7D7UeGZmNdkOjTbtm92GtVMGkMTDvyQdtXqB-eehKyyKGHzHF_s4OV_rnwefYCNHiNJ/s640/35.jpg" width="272" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">#35</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsyfG3ARfoSrmqBz2uEaBG1y3d3SJIsJY0IuqowwD0oGv8gsC80dyeL5zPiGX7FE7t0QLmNqbxbJUFI8tmxZvZ-o89nLNZ_Toh9IL8dQmIkWP9FWVSPzASJ1gp8byINC4pwB0IzN_Thtdb/s1600/36.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsyfG3ARfoSrmqBz2uEaBG1y3d3SJIsJY0IuqowwD0oGv8gsC80dyeL5zPiGX7FE7t0QLmNqbxbJUFI8tmxZvZ-o89nLNZ_Toh9IL8dQmIkWP9FWVSPzASJ1gp8byINC4pwB0IzN_Thtdb/s640/36.JPG" width="418" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">#36</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHSOHTtkDW_8IyLqjqbbg-alTlJHcxdoFlEZVyalUb3ku9b63RHeiGRztcK93vIxAiqin4WtHT1XhfGXFJg6wxPFWQmrMyaTgVxqqmoslELrXRyfEUG8_wqU-o63-In4nnPuz4bgBdJLLh/s1600/37.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHSOHTtkDW_8IyLqjqbbg-alTlJHcxdoFlEZVyalUb3ku9b63RHeiGRztcK93vIxAiqin4WtHT1XhfGXFJg6wxPFWQmrMyaTgVxqqmoslELrXRyfEUG8_wqU-o63-In4nnPuz4bgBdJLLh/s640/37.jpg" width="354" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">#37</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiC4Es-f3NdbYlfsb_OZd4YFN_FaxcwIC7R1rOFK3YgUxqbKBBXfDsAXcYotLMyJpCqxyPoAK-0Rgx_2yVA8Eu-MIkLSxw0nNv-AdXcqrNpykx0mAe0-xBDRCErNJhgtU7Bn-hlynjkTgzY/s1600/38.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiC4Es-f3NdbYlfsb_OZd4YFN_FaxcwIC7R1rOFK3YgUxqbKBBXfDsAXcYotLMyJpCqxyPoAK-0Rgx_2yVA8Eu-MIkLSxw0nNv-AdXcqrNpykx0mAe0-xBDRCErNJhgtU7Bn-hlynjkTgzY/s640/38.jpg" width="250" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">#38</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCN1cX6DLyP_KvmWIDG7sf4HRhht6lY2XX91rJYRumVZiO2z65JSnGqZS0AtkW7iuuW7VxeMvYZ8fQU746aaCTSpjPnCaiEAW-_y0jsny6OKTqK0-AbXC8_DcriLu2lcONVE9jLmYzwmsD/s1600/39.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCN1cX6DLyP_KvmWIDG7sf4HRhht6lY2XX91rJYRumVZiO2z65JSnGqZS0AtkW7iuuW7VxeMvYZ8fQU746aaCTSpjPnCaiEAW-_y0jsny6OKTqK0-AbXC8_DcriLu2lcONVE9jLmYzwmsD/s640/39.jpg" width="298" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">#39</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZS75dEqSmBnyI5fvkgCiEP1Cy0IA9UiO-gjO3dhgKOuHlNyFuBhitUqg8nyL3-jPJM9p_jyNAFuPE9n1jmlpPIkutEaMTD9RiMI6Ms0h_Cm1ZRKwrBh99qq3CdeVbs5UIaDv5GCppUFZY/s1600/40.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZS75dEqSmBnyI5fvkgCiEP1Cy0IA9UiO-gjO3dhgKOuHlNyFuBhitUqg8nyL3-jPJM9p_jyNAFuPE9n1jmlpPIkutEaMTD9RiMI6Ms0h_Cm1ZRKwrBh99qq3CdeVbs5UIaDv5GCppUFZY/s640/40.JPG" width="424" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">#40</td></tr>
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Terron Jameshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03508184587009172827noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1369455855458939013.post-30700340608276274872013-07-12T09:34:00.002-07:002013-07-12T09:56:02.690-07:00INSIGHT Book Blast!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span itemprop="description"><span class="fsl">Ever heard of a Book
Blast? Simply put, it's when everyone buys a book on the same day, so it
jumps to the top of the selling charts, thus increasing its visibility
and marketability.<br /> <br /> Why do I tell you this? My publisher is
organizing a Book Blast for my novel, INSIGHT, on Monday, July 15,
and I'd love anyone and everyone to participate! Even purchasing a less
expensive ebook will still help! In fact, ebooks will be on sale that
day for only $2.99! (a big discount from the usual $6.99)<br /> <br /> As crazy as it<span class="text_exposed_show">
sounds, I'll even be purchasing a book or two myself. I know many of
you have already purchased my book, and I'm forever grateful. To help
you justify another purchase, think of a friend or relative who might
want it as a gift. Perhaps a library donation? All you have to do is
save your money from one fast food meal, and you have enough for two
ebooks. Overall, consider your purchase an investment in my my success,
because that's exactly what you're doing!<br /> <br /> * * * * * * * * * * * * * *<br /> PLEASE SHARE, SHARE, SHARE THIS EVENT!!!!! Why? You could win a $100 Amazon gift card, plus more!<br /> <br /><b> SHARING CONTEST DETAILS:</b><br />
Share this event via facebook and twitter. Anyone who uses the hashtags
#InsightBookBlast or #InsightGiveaway will get ONE entry per post. The
more you post and share, the more entries you will get, which increases
your chances of winning.<br /> <br /> 1st Place - $100 Amazon gift card and an Insight t-shirt<br /> 2nd Place - 2 Insight t-shirts<br /> 3rd Place - Insight t-shirt<br /> * * * * * * * * * * * * * *<br /> <br /> Lastly, PLEASE BUY, BUY, BUY MY BOOK (on Monday, July 15)!!!<br /> <br /> If you're wondering if INSIGHT is worth the buy, here are two review links (shortened URL) to help you decide...<br /> Goodreads - <a href="http://www.facebook.com/l.php?u=http%3A%2F%2Fgoo.gl%2FAydQO&h=YAQFLmRTV&s=1" rel="nofollow nofollow" target="_blank">http://goo.gl/AydQO</a><br /> Deseret News - <a href="http://www.facebook.com/l.php?u=http%3A%2F%2Fgoo.gl%2FXUWEN&h=bAQHtfNxk&s=1" rel="nofollow nofollow" target="_blank">http://goo.gl/XUWEN</a><br /> <br /> My preferred purchase method would be through Amazon (<a href="http://www.facebook.com/l.php?u=http%3A%2F%2Fgoo.gl%2FQiGmE&h=PAQGiukeD&s=1" rel="nofollow nofollow" target="_blank">http://goo.gl/QiGmE</a>). All other purchase links for INSIGHT can be found at the bottom of the page on my website (<a href="http://www.terronjames.com/" rel="nofollow nofollow" target="_blank">http://<wbr></wbr><span class="word_break"></span>www.TerronJames.com/</a>).</span></span></span>Terron Jameshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03508184587009172827noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1369455855458939013.post-50102038868957765752013-07-11T09:14:00.000-07:002013-07-12T09:16:44.560-07:00Guest Post - Ann Marie Meyers<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEID4M8VPa7DSGYexgmWdowCRmSAj3YjgJ__cxE5sA3tj208I2g43CTi5YjhKk3KS-788dVnqq8Mxo0-QIS9iuYLEflHGiqkD3CeBP28jnmSNSOAmGjFipAgEYjibZSWyTLtnOTQHhIuDF/s1600/062313_UITA_bookbanner.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="256" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEID4M8VPa7DSGYexgmWdowCRmSAj3YjgJ__cxE5sA3tj208I2g43CTi5YjhKk3KS-788dVnqq8Mxo0-QIS9iuYLEflHGiqkD3CeBP28jnmSNSOAmGjFipAgEYjibZSWyTLtnOTQHhIuDF/s320/062313_UITA_bookbanner.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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Today I have the privilege of introducing Ann Marie Meyers, one of the most kindest, sweetest people I've ever met. Ann Marie grew up in Trinidad and Tobago in the West Indies. She has a degree in languages and translates legal and technical documents from French and Spanish into English. She lives in Toronto, Ontario, with her husband and energetic daughter. Ann Marie is also the author UP IN THE AIR, which just released on July 6, 2013. Here's a little synopsis of the book:<br />
<br />
<span style="color: #783f04;"><i>Ever since she can remember, ten-year-old Melody has always wanted to fly.</i></span><br />
<span style="color: #783f04;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #783f04;"><i>And when she leaps off a swing in the park one day and lands in the mystical realm of Chimeroan, her dream finally comes true. She is given a pair of wings. She can fly! Life cannot be any better.</i></span><br />
<span style="color: #783f04;"><i>Yet, dreams do come with a price. Even with wings, Melody realizes she cannot outfly the memories of her past. The car accident that has left her father paralyzed, and her unscarred, still plagues her with guilt—she believes that it was entirely her fault.</i></span><br />
<span style="color: #783f04;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #783f04;"><i>In Chimeroan, Melody is forced to come to terms with her part in her father's accident. She must choose between the two things that have become the world to her: keeping her wings or healing her father.</i></span><br />
<br />
Find Ann Marie on <a href="http://www.facebook.com/AnnMarieMeyersauthor" target="_blank"><u><b>Facebook</b></u></a>, <a href="http://twitter.com/AnnMarie_Meyers" target="_blank"><u><b>Twitter</b></u></a>, or via her <a href="http://www.annmarie-meyers.com/" target="_blank"><u><b>Official Website</b></u></a>.<br />
UP IN THE AIR is available via <a href="http://www.amazon.com/dp/193996704X/ref=cm_sw_su_dp" target="_blank"><u><b>Amazon</b></u></a> or <a href="http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/up-in-the-air-ann-marie-meyers/1114940695" target="_blank"><u><b>Barnes & Noble</b></u></a>. Read updated reader reviews via <a href="http://www.goodreads.com/book/show/17792165-up-in-the-air?ac=1" target="_blank"><u><b>Goodreads</b></u></a>.
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As I side note, I think that people with legal document experience make incredibly talented authors. <br />
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Now, without any further ado, I turn the floor over to Ann Marie.<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b>*holds up APPLAUSE sign*</b></div>
<i>(Make sure to keep reading to the end, where you'll find a $25 Amazon gift card giveaway!)</i><br />
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<span style="color: #274e13;"><b>The Different Faces of Social Media</b></span></div>
<span style="color: #274e13;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #274e13;">When I was a kid, I remember my father saying that many business deals were made on the golf course.</span><br />
<span style="color: #274e13;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #274e13;">Well, to some degree, social media has become the golf course for authors.</span><br />
<span style="color: #274e13;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #274e13;">You have no idea how long I have avoided being sucked into the world of Social Media. However, in the past few months of social networking, I have begun to see that the advantages of interacting on such a global scale.</span><br />
<span style="color: #274e13;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #274e13;">Nowadays there are many very successful self-published authors who use social media to promote their books. Even traditionally published authors have been able to expand their fan base and attract readership and buyers.</span><br />
<span style="color: #274e13;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #274e13;">Still, the many options available are a bit daunting because there are dozens of social media sites. I have personally stuck with a few: FB, Twitter, Pinterest (a new addition), Goodreads, Google+ and my blog. Hmm, so maybe a bit more than a few. I’ve definitely caved in. </span><br />
<span style="color: #274e13;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #274e13;">Facebook connects people with friends and colleagues around the world. It is also a great way for authors to promote themselves and gain a large following. The Facebook Author Page also allows authors to be personable and to show a side of themselves that potential readers would normally never see.</span><br />
<span style="color: #274e13;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #274e13;">Twitter has a different focus. Unlike Facebook, you are only allowed 140 characters per tweet. You need to be concise and to the point while getting as much information as possible across. Twitter has a broader fan base and is able to connect not only with friends and colleagues but also celebrities, experts in various fields, even the news media. Plus you can attach links to blogs or any site on the web. It’s also okay to retweet the same thing several times (be careful of spamming though).</span><br />
<span style="color: #274e13;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #274e13;">I’m not too familiar as yet with Pinterest, but from what I have seen, it allows people to connect on a visual level and conveys a side to someone you might never see with mere words. You can also post the cover of your book, trailers and others pin these to your ‘boards’. People then pin what attracts them to their boards; they may even tweet about it, send it via FB. And the word spreads…</span><br />
<span style="color: #274e13;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #274e13;">Goodreads is an amazing site for recommending books, and it’s also a way to get reviews for your book. Another way to promote your book is by offering Giveaways. You can imagine how successful that can be.</span><br />
<span style="color: #274e13;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #274e13;">With just these few social media venues, I have been able to make more connections than I could have every imagined a few months ago. And I’ve only just started.</span><br />
<span style="color: #274e13;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #274e13;">Done properly, social media can create for you a fan base of thousands. Let’s say then that only 10% of those people read your book (and like it) – that’s a few hundred people who can potentially spread the word to their friends, who just may buy the book and spread the word to their friends, and so on and so on…</span><br />
<span style="color: #274e13;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #274e13;">Therefore, though somewhat daunting, it seems that social media Is here to stay – and who knows what the future will hold.</span><br />
<span style="color: #274e13;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #274e13;">Of course there’s always a downside. The challenge is to keep social media interaction to a level that minimizes the risk of socializing too much over writing. And please don’t take an absence of ‘likes’ to your FB posts or a lack of responses to tweets or blog posts as a personal affront. I won’t get into this here because that’s a whole other topic.</span><br />
<br />
<a class="rafl" href="http://www.rafflecopter.com/rafl/display/0486f59/" id="rc-0486f59" rel="nofollow">a Rafflecopter giveaway</a>
<script src="//d12vno17mo87cx.cloudfront.net/embed/rafl/cptr.js"></script><br />
<br />Terron Jameshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03508184587009172827noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1369455855458939013.post-24322385239353538882013-07-04T15:32:00.000-07:002013-07-04T15:32:49.555-07:00Family Trek 2013<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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I'm going to steer away from book talk for this entry and spend some time sharing my experiences on family trek last week. Trek? What's that? Utah has an inspiring legacy of pioneers who sacrificed everything to cross the United States in search for a location void of religious persecution. Most of these pioneers traveled either by covered wagons or handcarts. The handcart companies had an especially difficult time, many people giving their lives to ensure the survival of their friends and families. Nowadays, groups can participate in a multi-day excursion of pulling handcarts out in the hot desert sun, all in remembrance of those handcart companies. In Utah, large youth groups (ages 14-18) often organize treks together. I've participated in youth trek before, but the trek I went on last week was organized by my wife's extended family. As you can probably imagine, pulling a handcart with your own young family provides an entirely different experience than pulling with a handful of teenage youth. You might think it sounds miserable, and you're absolutely right, but it was also one of the most fulfilling experiences I've ever had. My wife comes from a great family and I'm eternally grateful for their efforts with this trek. I'm not joking when I say I'll refer back to my experiences last week for the rest of my life. I'm a changed man. An improved man.<br />
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I believe that inside each of us dwells a spirit created by our Heavenly Father. This spirit is what gives our mortal bodies life and direction. Unfortunately, we often ignore the promptings of our spirits and give in to the carnal desires of mortality. This is why I love religious fasting (going without food or drink for extended periods of time). When fasting with a purpose, we force our bodies into such a weakened state that spiritual promptings finally break through. Once I bypass that barrier, no longer agonizing over my physical hunger or thirst, I can commune with my Heavenly Father on a very intimate level. Revelation and inspiration flow. I like setting goals during this time because I know that, for once in my life, I have my head screwed on straight. Such is the case with trek. Exposure to heat, wind, dehydration, hunger, physical pain and exhaustion... all of these work together to strengthen our spirituality, IF we approach it with the right perspective. Few things drive the spirit away as effectively as a bad attitude and murmuring.<br />
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Trek can be organized in many different ways and in various locations, but if you're lucky enough, someday you'll get to participate in a trek along actual pioneer trails. Last week, we trekked in Wyoming at Martin's Cove. I won't bother you with a ton of historical information, but you should know that this specific area contains a lot of emotional history for the Willie and Martin handcart companies of 1856.<br />
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When we arrived at our base camp, my wife's family handed out packets to everybody. Each of these packets contained names of actual pioneers and their history with the handcart companies. We were each assigned a specific person, which made the experience extra special as we pulled our own handcart along the trails. When we stopped to discuss the history of a certain location, it was easy for me to identify who among us held the names of those significant to that location. Their eyes would brighten and they'd look around like, "That's me!" It was a great idea. It made the experience more real for many of us.<br />
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A particularly emotional story came from two names assigned to my 8-year-old and 3-year-old sons. By the time the handcart companies had reached the Martin's Cove, WY area on their way to Salt Lake City, UT, their resources had completely depleted. In the middle of a terrible snowstorm that prevented travel, the companies waited to die. Gratefully, the next day brought rescuers who had rushed from Salt Lake City to help, yet there was only so much those men could do. They were only an advance rescue team, many days ahead of the supply wagons that followed. The handcart companies were grateful for the help, but they knew that if they stayed there waiting, they would not live to see the supply wagons. They had to continue forward to close the gap between them. The next step of their journey was Rocky Ridge, a 12-mile ascent up a mountain over rugged terrain. This journey would be difficult for anyone, but to those companies, starved, exhausted, on the edge of death, it was nearly impossible. An 11-year-old boy, James Kirkwood, was put in charge of his 4-year old brother. "Get him to the top of Rocky Ridge," was his mother's request, and James took the request very seriously. For 27 hours, James coaxed, carried, dragged, pushed, and pulled his little brother up the trail through knee-deep snow. He accomplished his mother's wish, delivering his little brother safely into the arms of the rest of his company, then James laid down and died. As the company continued on the next day, James's mother saw packs of wolves closing in on the burial ground where her son and 14 others were buried, but their was nothing they could do. So many stories of sacrifice.<br />
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<b>I learned two very important lessons while on trek, lessons that I'll remember for the rest of my life.</b><br />
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<u>One</u>:<br />
With four boys of my own, ranging in age from one to eight, it isn't my lot in life to get much out of spiritual meetings. Instead, I usually spend that time trying to keep my children quiet so others can receive inspiration. Sometimes I find myself wondering why I even bother at all. Why not just stay home? I'd feel less frazzled and others would be guaranteed peace and quiet. It seems logical, and I admit that I've even given in to this logic a few times. Trek taught me differently. It's not about doing what we believe is logical, but about doing what's right. <u>Perfect obedience without complaints, especially when it requires sacrifice</u>. God has a bigger perspective than us. Many of my pioneer ancestors questioned the call to move west so late in the season. Seems logical, especially since they knew they'd be caught in winter storms with few provisions. Some even chose not to go. The important thing to remember is this. Those who chose to go, with the right attitude, developed an unshakable relationship with their Heavenly Father. Their faith never wavered. God has promised us that sacrifice brings blessings. It's absolutely true, but sometimes those blessings aren't tangible or readily visible. Sometimes, as with the case of the pioneers, it does nothing more for us than strengthen our character and resolve. But step back and look at the bigger picture. I keep talking about the legacy left behind by the handcart companies. I doubt many of them, if any, were thinking about that while trudging across the plains and through the snow. They didn't know that 143 years later, their experiences would still inspire the hearts of millions. My family got home late on Saturday night, exhausted, sunburned, and seriously lacking in sleep. Yet, I can't remember ever feeling so motivated to wake up and go to 9 AM church the next morning. And we did, on time and everything!<br />
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<u>Two</u>:<br />
This lesson is a little more complex. I've tried explaining it to a couple people, but without much success. Perhaps my sweet author skills will do the trick. As I already explained, I didn't get much out of the meetings, devotionals, and stories on trek. Even my assigned pioneer name did little for me. My four boys are a handful, and as my dad kindly pointed out to me during trek, it's all my fault. I sat around watching my wife's siblings and their children, all calm, reverent, and respectful. Then I turned my attention to my own children. *sigh* Why is it my fault they're so out of control? It's in my genes. Excess energy, imagination, excitability... did I mention energy? Yeah, I was just as bad growing up, if not worse. Maybe it's that mother's curse coming back to bite me in the butt, "I hope your children grow up to be exactly like you!" Not sounding very lesson-y, is it? Stay with me. While on trek, we walked 12 miles in two days. It sounds pathetic in comparison to what the pioneers accomplished, but let's be honest. They were used to a much more rigorous and physically demanding life than us. For crying out loud, we can't get our boys to walk 1.5 miles at home for a free lunch without oodles of complaining. Yet, my 6-year-old son, the lazier, stubborn, like-his-father type of our four boys, walked the entire 12 miles of trek without a single complaint. What's more, he spent most of the time helping pull the handcart. My 8-year-old had the same attitude. No complaining whatsoever, when whining seems like his knee-jerk reaction to every challenging circumstance at home. I felt my fatherly love growing for my family with every passing minute, and my desire to help and protect them increased accordingly. As I toiled, sweated, hungered, pained, and altogether struggled alongside my wife and boys, I briefly identified with those pioneer men who gave their lives to preserve their families. Those men who waded waist deep into freezing water to carry others across a frozen river, knowing the effort would take their own lives. Those men who slipped their own rations of flour into the bowls of their starving offspring. Those men who died trying to dig graves for the deceased, just to offer closure and comfort to the living. The list goes on and on, and not just from men, but from women and children. My lesson then?<br />
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In the Bible, specifically the New Testament in 1 John 3:2, we receive the following insight: <i>"Beloved, now are we the sons of God, and it doth not yet appear what we shall be: but we know that, when he shall appear, we shall be like him; for we shall see him as he is."</i> A similar reference can be found in the Book of Mormon in Moroni 7:48. My experiences on trek brought this scripture to a new light. Our goal in life should be to become a better person, thinking of others, serving, sacrificing. We should be adopting the characteristics of our Heavenly Father. We don't fully comprehend the kind of people we can become ("it doth not yet appear what we shall be"), but when we stand before God, having fulfilled our calling in life and received the eternal reward of dwelling in His presence, we'll realize that we have become like Him. We will understand that we are truly sons and daughters of God. We shall see him as he is, that he is our Father, that he loves us even more than we love our own children. How can we ensure that we receive this reward? It all goes back to my second lesson, which I'll finally share with you. We can do hard things. We must do hard things. I could spend the next 5489847 hours, more or less, writing about the satisfaction of hard work, but let me sum it up this way. Think back to the most satisfying times of your life and I'm certain that it was probably one of the busiest times of your life. On the flipside, the most difficult times of your life are filled with laggardism and laziness. I'm right, aren't I? Ha! I knew it, because it's the same with me. Try not to forget that, either. <u>If we want true satisfaction and joy in life, we must do hard things!</u> Stop looking for the easy way out and welcome those challenges with gritted teeth and a tightened buttocks. Shout a little, "Bring it!" if that helps, too.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b>Trail out of Martin's Cove</b></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b>Good thing he had that hat...</b></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b>...because he was COVERED in sand!</b></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b>My dad came along, too, and was a hardworkin' Godsend!</b></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b>We tried various techniques, but he just wouldn't wear a hat!</b></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvAZpzcEXOn0Yv9q6QSQwTvGfJ4O5wvoaAG488La1kOgfVs424Mpbxjs0h_GRotIQdVVbKeuj4_dy5Lr5oVv863oWKvD4rU1OppURy4aC168zMiPjjI_9cuozb0T1UIr6nBtOLVjpg6ohe/s694/2013-07-01+16.09.10.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="368" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvAZpzcEXOn0Yv9q6QSQwTvGfJ4O5wvoaAG488La1kOgfVs424Mpbxjs0h_GRotIQdVVbKeuj4_dy5Lr5oVv863oWKvD4rU1OppURy4aC168zMiPjjI_9cuozb0T1UIr6nBtOLVjpg6ohe/s400/2013-07-01+16.09.10.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b>Women's Pull</b></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Terron Jameshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03508184587009172827noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1369455855458939013.post-48886373053128652512013-07-02T16:03:00.000-07:002013-07-02T16:04:24.107-07:00Guest Post - Interview with Teri HarmanAlthough I've been lucky enough to maintain high reviews for INSIGHT thus far, the time will inevitably come when I have to suck it up and endure a terrible tongue lashing. Perhaps this seems rather obvious, but the pointed truth is that, as an author, it is impossible for me to please everybody. Someone, somewhere, is going to have a negative freakout over all the things they hate about my book.<br />
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To address this emotional subject, I have invited author Teri Harman to answer this one, painful interview question. Take a listen. It's definitely worth 5 minutes of your time.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCat4juGqP_x2n5BE7wt9-e7L3irm8xyx3m8KsHzo0DZimITuRjMb9965Ix3Msr4aWe71MthM6GJHe2fwUEUdfqHXLNx4qLnAeB45Na6kaG_cZsmCld2__O-w1qRRoOna_5c_gRSKCZMzk/s1600/DSC_TerronBeholders_5000+-+FINAL+MOD+(LOW+RES).jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="100" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCat4juGqP_x2n5BE7wt9-e7L3irm8xyx3m8KsHzo0DZimITuRjMb9965Ix3Msr4aWe71MthM6GJHe2fwUEUdfqHXLNx4qLnAeB45Na6kaG_cZsmCld2__O-w1qRRoOna_5c_gRSKCZMzk/s200/DSC_TerronBeholders_5000+-+FINAL+MOD+(LOW+RES).jpg" width="100" /></a></div>
<span style="color: #660000;"><b>Teri, authors open themselves up to unaltered public ridicule. Why would you choose such a potentially painful path? Do you hide in dark corners at night and poke yourself in painful places with a sharp needle? Is publishing a book just another dark pleasure for you?</b></span><br />
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Although my question is full of sarcasm, Teri considers this subject no laughing matter. Her response is quite serious, and very insightful.<br />
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<span style="color: #274e13;">Author Jessamyn West once said, "Talent is helpful in writing, but GUTS are absolutely essential." If you are going to put your work and yourself in the public eye, you must be prepared for and strong enough to take frequent evisceration (metaphorically, of course - this is not Tudor London, thank goodness).</span><br />
<span style="color: #274e13;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #274e13;">When I first started writing my bi-weekly book column for Utah's <u><a href="http://ksl.com/">ksl.com</a></u> I was not prepared for the Internet lashings in the form of rude, mean, hurtful comments. As a newbie to writing for the public I had no perspective on this kind of feedback. It was hard not to take the comments to heart, to start wondering if I was a terrible writer. On many occasions, the dark space under my bed became rather inviting.</span><br />
<span style="color: #274e13;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #274e13;">Slowly, with the help of a logical and wise husband, I realized there are two kinds of criticism: the kind that matters and the kind you completely ignore. Writing is mostly a closed door activity: seek out the valued opinion of a few, close the door to everything else. If we writers listened to every comment, opinion, review, lashing, etc. we'd never write again. Even the positive things can start to mess with your head.</span><br />
<span style="color: #274e13;"><br /></span><span style="color: #274e13;">Putting a novel out into the world is even worse than writing a column. Reviews are strange beasts. As the release date grew near for BLOOD MOON, once again, I found myself reading negative things about my pretty words, wanting to sit down and sob like a toddler whose Lego tower fell over. Although most of my reviews have been very positive, the few negative ones stuck in my head, had me moping around the house and seeking out chocolate solace. So I made a hard decision: I will not read reviews. Reviews are for readers, not authors. The only criticism I need to listen to on my novels is that from a few trusted writer friend beta readers and my editors.</span><br />
<span style="color: #274e13;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #274e13;">So if you are considering being an author, ask yourself if you have the guts to take the lashings and/or ignore them. To stand in the storm or sunshine and remain unaffected. It's a glorious thing to put a book out into the world, to share your talent, but no two persons ever read the same book. Some people will love you, others will hate you. And that, I've realized, is totally okay because, after all, no one ever had any fun hiding in the dark space under the bed.</span><br />
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<b>Well spoken, Teri, and speaking of well-spoken, Teri's debut novel, BLOOD MOON, released just a couple weeks ago! Rather than botch up a terrible explanation of her masterpiece, I'll share her synopsis instead.</b><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJwcmB8PALVedqUBMTeQap7VyZ4Ro77gLhFWtADtgprRi7beybCKAYJxQPvp4qTKfpBb-033vePVp8WFXaMs7Cxm0ofm03uAF5ygcDLoWSu2q-K_Pf4hgEZwk-Yjqn_xWoGbSwMmoCqGnT/s1600/022613_BM_cover_lowres.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJwcmB8PALVedqUBMTeQap7VyZ4Ro77gLhFWtADtgprRi7beybCKAYJxQPvp4qTKfpBb-033vePVp8WFXaMs7Cxm0ofm03uAF5ygcDLoWSu2q-K_Pf4hgEZwk-Yjqn_xWoGbSwMmoCqGnT/s320/022613_BM_cover_lowres.jpg" width="223" /></a></div>
<i>Willa dreams of true events and her best friend is a ghost. Simon can heal any wound with a touch and senses others’ emotions, intentions. All their lives they’ve felt alone in their bizarre abilities, hiding behind a facade of normalcy, wondering why and how. The night Simon walks into the Twelve Acres Diner and meets Willa face to face, in a swirl of electric heat, they are bound to one another and glimpse the magic of who they are.<br />
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Across town a witch is held prisoner in the derelict basement of an old Victorian house. One night as it rains, she dares to reach her filthy, scarred hand out the window. Willa, walking home from work, recognizes the pathetic hand from a recent, terrible dream.<br />
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After a daring rescue of the witch, Willa and Simon are catapulted into the alluring but dangerous world of witchcraft and the magic of The Six Gifts. Answers to all their questions are within reach, but they’ve stepped into the middle of a deadly fight for the Powers of the Earth. Do they stay, risk their lives on the promise of power, or walk away?<br />
<br />
Teri Harman's groundbreaking debut novel, the first installment in The Moonlight Trilogy, completely reinvents the modern concept of witches and magic. With its authentic translation of the history of witches into a fresh and entertaining package with unprecedented characterization, Blood Moon is sure to capture readers from the first page.</i><br />
<br />
<b>Purchase links to BLOOD MOON:</b> <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Blood-Moon-Teri-Harman/dp/1939967015/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1370531937&sr=1-1" target="_blank"><u><b>Amazon</b></u></a>, <a href="http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/blood-moon-teri-harman/1114940694?ean=9781939967008&itm=1&usri=9781939967008" target="_blank"><u><b>B&N</b></u></a>, <a href="http://www.goodreads.com/book/show/16104353-blood-moon" target="_blank"><u><b>Goodreads</b></u></a><br />
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<b>Teri Harman online:</b> <a href="http://www.facebook.com/AuthorTeriHarman" target="_blank"><u><b>facebook</b></u></a>, <a href="http://twitter.com/TeriHarman" target="_blank"><u><b>twitter</b></u></a>, <a href="http://www.teriharman.com/" target="_blank"><u><b>website</b></u></a><br />
<br />
<b>Lastly, don't forget to sign up for this free giveaway of $25! It ends in just a few hours!</b><br />
<a class="rafl" href="http://www.rafflecopter.com/rafl/display/0486f58/" id="rc-0486f58" rel="nofollow">a Rafflecopter giveaway</a>
<script src="//d12vno17mo87cx.cloudfront.net/embed/rafl/cptr.js"></script>Terron Jameshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03508184587009172827noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1369455855458939013.post-54650681326355831342013-06-02T20:05:00.003-07:002013-06-02T20:05:50.354-07:00Final INSIGHT Giveaway!<b>This is the LAST goodreads giveaway for a signed, hardcover copy of INSIGHT! Don't forget to sign up!</b><br />
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<a href="http://www.goodreads.com/" target="_new">Goodreads</a> Book Giveaway
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<a href="http://www.goodreads.com/book/show/17428773"><img alt="Insight by Terron James" src="http://d.gr-assets.com/books/1363143618l/17428773.jpg" title="Insight by Terron James" width="100" /></a>
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<a href="http://www.goodreads.com/book/show/17428773">Insight</a>
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<h4 style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; margin: 0 0 10px; padding: 0;">
by <a href="http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/5050419.Terron_James" style="text-decoration: none;">Terron James</a>
</h4>
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Giveaway ends June 12, 2013.
<br />
See the <a href="http://www.goodreads.com/giveaway/show/54911" style="text-decoration: none;">giveaway details</a>
at Goodreads.
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<script charset="utf-8" src="http://www.goodreads.com/giveaway/widget/54911" type="text/javascript"></script>Terron Jameshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03508184587009172827noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1369455855458939013.post-63550083517989877552013-06-01T00:00:00.000-07:002013-05-31T23:11:31.944-07:00Today's the Day!I couldn't skip past today without leaving some sort of mark on my blog. I'd regret it for the rest of my life. However, rather than write an extensive memoir or thank-you list, I'm going to direct you to my book, INSIGHT. Buy it! Read it! It contains all the necessary praise, along with proof of five years of sacrificial, hard, hard work. It was a long, hard road to get here, but I wouldn't change a thing about it. WE MADE IT!<br />
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Don't forget to check out my guest post on Jennifer Griffith's website today, too! It's a little scatterbrained, but heartfelt. And you get to see a sample of the original draft of INSIGHT. <a href="http://www.authorjennifergriffith.com/"><u><b>http://www.authorjennifergriffith.com/</b></u></a><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxv32gTrXEnNIeL_feo8Hlko-V5tcS85Ao5tOLzdo4HX_wPlvyipO3bJmREZOl18M81EGgnOw0nul_UqfVmmBo3adHxrnuRqu26uIopyLz8wTCjX8OKeHxTagl-D-f6pJg-RQaBER7Tnjx/s1600/Insight_bookflyer-rgb-hi.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxv32gTrXEnNIeL_feo8Hlko-V5tcS85Ao5tOLzdo4HX_wPlvyipO3bJmREZOl18M81EGgnOw0nul_UqfVmmBo3adHxrnuRqu26uIopyLz8wTCjX8OKeHxTagl-D-f6pJg-RQaBER7Tnjx/s640/Insight_bookflyer-rgb-hi.jpg" width="492" /></a></div>
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<br />Terron Jameshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03508184587009172827noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1369455855458939013.post-47617724355285900262013-05-30T12:03:00.003-07:002013-07-03T09:02:37.618-07:00Book Trailer for INSIGHT!Quick, simple, AWESOME post today!<br />
*waves hand off stage*<br />
C'mon. Don't be shy. Come on out! Good boy! Now show 'em how cool you are!<br />
<br />
<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/mlNTdPk6K2A" width="560"></iframe>Terron Jameshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03508184587009172827noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1369455855458939013.post-59678337814500627262013-05-23T10:23:00.000-07:002013-05-23T19:35:00.223-07:00Names & Places in Insight<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6E0XcRah0XH7vQM-D-1rEI9tNEWcKE3Yl3Uj1WlbszWa36TTTqzfsrnv3-teQTv7Bzf7JPgEgR0o_yHeR7RW2MWBkSxqjbxofndDb2A1D_k8aTlti99ilwG6STe2cAYJ43Kz1vJvRJfPN/s1600/brand-name-creation2.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="217" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6E0XcRah0XH7vQM-D-1rEI9tNEWcKE3Yl3Uj1WlbszWa36TTTqzfsrnv3-teQTv7Bzf7JPgEgR0o_yHeR7RW2MWBkSxqjbxofndDb2A1D_k8aTlti99ilwG6STe2cAYJ43Kz1vJvRJfPN/s320/brand-name-creation2.png" width="320" /></a></div>
<b>I've been frequently asked </b><b><b>where/</b>how I came up with the names of people and places in INSIGHT, so I thought I'd give you an all-inclusive list of my crafted names. Enjoy!</b><br />
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<b>Aely</b> = my niece, Ashley<br />
<b>Allegna</b> and <b>Geila</b> = my older sister, Angela<br />
<b>Appernysia</b> = combination of apperception and Dionysia<br />
<b>Baum</b> = my 8th grade student, M. Baum<br />
<b>Braedr</b> = my brother-in-law, Brent<br />
<b>Briyél</b> = my niece, Brinley<br />
<b>Bryst</b> = my old co-worker, Bryan Westover<br />
<b>Calahein</b> = combination of calamitous and heinous<br />
<b>Casconni</b> = my niece, Cassidy, and my sister-in-law, Connie<br />
<b>Channer</b> = my nephew, Chanler<br />
<b>Cortney</b> = my niece, Cortney<br />
<b>Dawes</b> = my 2nd son, Dawsen<br />
<b>Dax</b> = my 4th son, Daxton<br />
<b>Dovan</b> = my nephew, Donovan<br />
<b>Drake</b> = my 7th grade student, Drake<br />
<b>Elja</b> = my nephew, Elijah<br />
<b>Flagheim</b> = combination of flagitious and heinous<br />
<b>Furwen</b> = my 7th grade student, Owen F.<br />
<b>Humsco</b> = my buddy, Scott Humphries <br />
<b>Hykel</b> = my friend, Hykel<br />
<b>Itorea</b> = variation of Aetoria, a combination of aeternum and meritorious<br />
<b>Jareth</b> = my friend, Jared Ward<br />
<b>Jaul</b> = my ex-girlfriend, Jaime, and my wife's ex-boyfriend, Paul<br />
<b>Jev</b> (coming in book 2) = my singing buddies, Steve and Jordan<br />
<b>Kamron</b> (coming in book 2) = my nephew, Cameron<br />
<b>Kaylen</b> = a combination of my parents, Allen and Debra Kay<br />
<b>Keene</b> = my nephew, Keian, and my cousin, Keyne<br />
<b>Kerod</b> = my nephews, Parker and Todd<br />
<b>Lars</b> = my middle name, Larsen <br />
<b>Linney</b> = my niece, Lindsey<br />
<b>Llen</b> = my 1st son, Dallen<br />
<b>Lon</b> = my deceased brother, Lonnie<br />
<b>Marcs</b> = my brother-in-law, Mark<br />
<b>Mellai</b> = my younger sister, Melanee<br />
<b>Myron</b> = my old coworker, Myron<br />
<b>Nik</b> = my nephew, Nik<br />
<b>Ovann</b> = my niece, Savanna<br />
<b>Perbeisea</b> = a combination of perdurable and obeisance<br />
<b>Phoenijan</b> = my 3rd son, Duncan Phoenix<br />
<b>Preton</b> = my nephew, Preston<br />
<b>Queen Cyra</b> (coming in book 2) & <b>Lynth flower</b> = my wife, Crystal Lyn<br />
<b>Rayben</b> = my old acquaintance from a previous job, Ray Bennett<br />
<b>Riyen</b> = my nephew, Riyen<br />
<b>Roseiri</b> = my friends, David & Amy Rose<br />
<b>Sátta</b> = my old boss, Sattar<br />
<b>Scutt</b> = my brother-in-law, Scott<br />
<b>Sévart</b> = my buddy, Travis Alexander<br />
<b>Shalán</b> = a combination of my parents-in-law, Sharon and Dallas<br />
<b>Sonela </b>= my brother-in-law, Jason, and his wife, Leanne<br />
<b>Sylbie</b> = my nieces, Sydney and Shelbie<br />
<b>Taie Island</b> = my sisters-in-law, Stacie and Debbie<br />
<b>Tamadoras</b> = my nephew, Matt<br />
<b>Tarek</b> = Terron<br />
<b>Tarl</b> = my friend, Tarl <br />
<b>Tayla</b> = my niece, Taylor<br />
<b>Theiss Arbogast</b> = my close friend, Chris Theiss, and his deceased wife, Joy Arbogast Theiss<br />
<b>Tirk</b> = my sister-in-law, Tiffany, and her husband, Erik<br />
<b>Toj</b> = my two old co-workers, Todd Snider and AJ Shaffer<br />
<b>Trev</b> = my nephew, Trevor <br />
<b>Warley</b> = my uncle, Warren<br />
<b>Wegnas</b> = my old computer server, Weg-nas <br />
<b>Zaxton</b> = my 7th grade student, ZaxtonTerron Jameshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03508184587009172827noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1369455855458939013.post-2528944642565766092013-05-17T22:15:00.003-07:002013-07-03T10:50:04.850-07:00INSIGHT Blog Tour!Be sure to check out my <a href="http://terronjames.blogspot.com/p/calendar.html" target="_blank"><u><b>Events</b></u></a> page for my blog tour, running from May 20 to June 10, 2013! I've had a lot of fun writing these posts! I promise you'll enjoy them, and maybe learn a thing or two while you're at it. <b>Oh, and did I mention that every post includes an entry form for a $25 Amazon giftcard giveaway?! Yep, it's true, but you have to go into the posts to see it.</b> :)<br />
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I've posted the schedule below, for your convenience.<br />
<br />
<b>MAY 20</b> - <a href="http://shelliproffitthowells.com/insight/" target="_blank"><u>Shelli Howells</u></a>, <a href="http://rkgtheauthor.com/blog-tour-insight-by-terron-james/" target="_blank"><u>Rebekah Grow</u></a><br />
<b>MAY 21</b> - <a href="http://elsiepark.blogspot.com/2013/05/insight-terron-james-ya-high-fantasy.html" target="_blank"><u>Elsie Park</u></a><br />
<b>MAY 22</b> - <a href="http://nothoughts2small.blogspot.com/2013/05/book-tour-insight-book-review.html" target="_blank"><u>No Thoughts 2 Small</u></a><br />
<b>MAY 23</b> - <a href="http://www.janetkayjensen.blogspot.com/2013/05/insight-new-ya-fantasy.html" target="_blank"><u>Janet Jensen</u></a><br />
<b>MAY 24</b> - <u><a href="http://teriharman.com/2013/05/24/guest-author-terron-james-on-epic-fantasy/" target="_blank">Teri Harman</a></u>, <u><a href="http://www.blogger.com/null">Nikki Wilson</a></u><br />
<b>MAY 25</b> - <a href="http://www.bookscompleteme.com/2013/05/review-interview-giveaway-insight-by.html" target="_blank"><u>Books Complete Me</u></a><a href="http://www.bookscompleteme.com/"></a><br />
<b>MAY 26</b> - <a href="http://fjrtitchenell.weebly.com/1/post/2013/05/guest-post-by-terron-james-plus-amazon-giftcard-giveaway.html" target="_blank"><u>Fiona Carter</u></a>, <a href="http://bookforya.blogspot.com/2013/05/insight-blog-tour-arc-review-giveaway.html" target="_blank"><u>Books For YA</u></a><br />
<b>MAY 29 </b>- <a href="http://www.thereadingdiaries.com/2013/05/blog-tour-interview-with-terron-james.html" target="_blank"><u>The Reading Diaries</u></a>, <a href="http://www.annmarie-meyers.com/2013/05/the-world-of-appernysia.html" target="_blank"><u>Ann Marie Meyers</u></a>, <a href="http://weavingataleortwo.blogspot.com/2013/05/what-books-about-rumors-are-surging.html" target="_blank"><u>Donna Weaver</u></a><br />
<b>MAY 30</b> - <a href="http://magdalenaball.blogspot.com/2013/05/guest-post-magic-books.html" target="_blank"><u>Compulsive Reader</u></a>, <a href="http://shelliproffitthowells.com/10-things-you-didnt-know-about-author-terron-james/" target="_blank"><u>Shelli Howells</u></a> <br />
<b>JUNE 1</b> - <u><a href="http://www.authorjennifergriffith.com/?p=889" target="_blank">Jennifer Griffith</a></u> (<a href="http://www.authorjennifergriffith.com/?p=925" target="_blank">INSIGHT review</a>)<br />
<b>JUNE 3</b> - <a href="http://theramblingsofatoddlersmom.blogspot.com/2013/06/guest-giveaway-terron-james-author-of.html" target="_blank"><u>The Ramblings of Toddler's Mom</u></a>, <a href="http://saraburrbooks.blogspot.com/2013/06/insight-by-terron-james-blog-tour.html" target="_blank"><u>Wendy Burr</u></a>, <a href="http://www.ja-bennett.com/2013/06/beholders-insight-review.html" target="_blank"><u>J.A. Bennett</u></a><br />
<b>JUNE 4</b> - <a href="http://www.lehuaparker.com/2013/06/04/book-review-insightby-terron-james/" target="_blank"><u></u></a><u><a href="http://www.blogger.com/null">Lehua Parker</a></u><br />
<b>JUNE 5</b> - <a href="http://www.amieborst.com/2013/06/blog-tour-for-insight-by-terron-james.html" target="_blank"><u></u></a><u><a href="http://www.blogger.com/null">Amie Borst</a></u><br />
<b>*JUNE 6</b> - <a href="http://johnnyworthen.blogspot.com/2013/06/terron-james-is-hot-new-author.html" target="_blank"><u></u></a><u><a href="http://www.blogger.com/null">Johnny Worthen</a></u><br />
<b>JUNE 7</b> - <a href="http://www.adriennemonson.com/interview-with-terron-james/" target="_blank"><u></u></a><u><a href="http://www.blogger.com/null">Adrienne Monson</a></u><br />
<b>JUNE 8</b> - <a href="http://www.danlevinsonwriting.com/blog/guest-post-terron-james-challenges-and-rewards-building-world" target="_blank"><u></u></a><u><a href="http://www.blogger.com/null">Dan Levinson</a></u><br />
<b>JUNE 9</b> - <a href="http://paranormal-bookclub.com/bellas-review-of-insight-by-terron-james/" target="_blank"><u></u></a><u><a href="http://www.blogger.com/null">Paranormal Book Club</a></u><br />
<b>JUNE 10</b> - <a href="http://www.minreadsandreviews.blogspot.com/2013/06/insight-by-terron-jamee-blog-tour.html" target="_blank"><u></u></a><u><a href="http://www.blogger.com/null">Min Reads and Reviews</a></u><br />Terron Jameshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03508184587009172827noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1369455855458939013.post-47949388384732013772013-05-12T19:26:00.001-07:002013-05-12T19:26:32.983-07:00Final ARC Giveaway of INSIGHT!Last chance to win a signed ARC (Advance Reading Copy) of my high fantasy novel, INSIGHT! <b>Enter now before you forget!</b><br />
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<a href="http://www.goodreads.com/" target="_new">Goodreads</a> Book Giveaway
</h2>
<div style="float: left;">
<a href="http://www.goodreads.com/book/show/17428773"><img alt="Insight by Terron James" src="http://d.gr-assets.com/books/1363143618l/17428773.jpg" title="Insight by Terron James" width="100" /></a>
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<div style="margin: 0 0 0 110px !important; padding: 0 0 0 0 !important;">
<h3 style="font-size: 16px; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 20px; margin: 0; padding: 0;">
<a href="http://www.goodreads.com/book/show/17428773">Insight</a>
</h3>
<h4 style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; margin: 0 0 10px; padding: 0;">
by <a href="http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/5050419.Terron_James" style="text-decoration: none;">Terron James</a>
</h4>
<div class="giveaway_details">
Giveaway ends May 17, 2013.
<br />
See the <a href="http://www.goodreads.com/giveaway/show/53135" style="text-decoration: none;">giveaway details</a>
at Goodreads.
</div>
</div>
<div style="clear: both;">
</div>
<a class="goodreadsGiveawayWidgetEnterLink" href="http://www.goodreads.com/giveaway/enter_choose_address/53135">Enter to win</a>
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<script charset="utf-8" src="http://www.goodreads.com/giveaway/widget/53135" type="text/javascript"></script>Terron Jameshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03508184587009172827noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1369455855458939013.post-11791875847393798122013-05-04T08:22:00.000-07:002013-05-04T08:22:38.586-07:00Insight ARC Giveaway #2!Didn't win the last giveaway? Fret not! Here's another chance to win a free <b>A</b>dvance <b>R</b>eading <b>C</b>opy of my book, INSIGHT!<br />
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<a href="http://www.goodreads.com/" target="_new">Goodreads</a> Book Giveaway
</h2>
<div style="float: left;">
<a href="http://www.goodreads.com/book/show/17428773"><img alt="Insight by Terron James" src="http://d.gr-assets.com/books/1363143618l/17428773.jpg" title="Insight by Terron James" width="100" /></a>
</div>
<div style="margin: 0 0 0 110px !important; padding: 0 0 0 0 !important;">
<h3 style="font-size: 16px; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 20px; margin: 0; padding: 0;">
<a href="http://www.goodreads.com/book/show/17428773">Insight</a>
</h3>
<h4 style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; margin: 0 0 10px; padding: 0;">
by <a href="http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/5050419.Terron_James" style="text-decoration: none;">Terron James</a>
</h4>
<div class="giveaway_details">
Giveaway ends May 11, 2013.
<br />
See the <a href="http://www.goodreads.com/giveaway/show/52390" style="text-decoration: none;">giveaway details</a>
at Goodreads.
</div>
</div>
<div style="clear: both;">
</div>
<a class="goodreadsGiveawayWidgetEnterLink" href="http://www.goodreads.com/giveaway/enter_choose_address/52390">Enter to win</a>
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<script charset="utf-8" src="http://www.goodreads.com/giveaway/widget/52390" type="text/javascript"></script>Terron Jameshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03508184587009172827noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1369455855458939013.post-88095071144898469342013-04-26T10:18:00.000-07:002013-04-26T10:18:10.024-07:00Insight ARC Giveaway #1!<span style="color: red;"><b>Want a free copy of INSIGHT a month before its release? Good news!</b></span><br />
<br />
Beginning April 29, just click on the link below to enter for a signed ARC (Advance Reader Copy) of INSIGHT. If you win, your advance copy will ship on Saturday, May 4! How about them apples?!<br />
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<a href="http://www.goodreads.com/" target="_new">Goodreads</a> Book Giveaway
</h2>
<div style="float: left;">
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</div>
<div style="margin: 0 0 0 110px !important; padding: 0 0 0 0 !important;">
<h3 style="font-size: 16px; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 20px; margin: 0; padding: 0;">
<a href="http://www.goodreads.com/book/show/17428773">Insight</a>
</h3>
<h4 style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; margin: 0 0 10px; padding: 0;">
by <a href="http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/5050419.Terron_James" style="text-decoration: none;">Terron James</a>
</h4>
<div class="giveaway_details">
Giveaway ends May 04, 2013.
<br />
See the <a href="http://www.goodreads.com/giveaway/show/51576" style="text-decoration: none;">giveaway details</a>
at Goodreads.
</div>
</div>
<div style="clear: both;">
</div>
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<script charset="utf-8" src="http://www.goodreads.com/giveaway/widget/51576" type="text/javascript"></script>Terron Jameshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03508184587009172827noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1369455855458939013.post-3450873613873459522013-04-24T11:25:00.001-07:002013-04-24T11:26:20.996-07:00Book Review - Fairy Godmothers, Inc.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Just a quick post today, a review about a great book coming out this weekend. If you haven't already heard of <b>Fairy Godmothers, Inc.</b>, make sure you add it to your to-read list. With the original story of Cinderella guiding the plot, <b>Jenniffer Wardell</b> takes the reader on a delightful journey to happily ever after
with cleverly humorous dialogue. If you slow down your reading
pace, you even catch the deeper meaning of the outwardly
funny but uniquely written verbiage. The characters were interesting
and easy to relate to. It was very enjoyable to follow the familiar
story line while experiencing a distinctly different, yet contemporary
story. Buy this book. Totally worth it.<br />
<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKzbSS5y79xv8tJtafP2W1jhnLF4XHx-TCbzSpppIa5FqC_T9VFpwxpQ8sojjRCvgQwDYNnuw7KQOzaHVkvgllRPKHu4Es3acGD2sDsCS1C6-Ow1PEsHw_PUUHHqakVzbGEBCHNtfv0r5D/s1600/041413_FGI_anncmnt-flyer_hi.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKzbSS5y79xv8tJtafP2W1jhnLF4XHx-TCbzSpppIa5FqC_T9VFpwxpQ8sojjRCvgQwDYNnuw7KQOzaHVkvgllRPKHu4Es3acGD2sDsCS1C6-Ow1PEsHw_PUUHHqakVzbGEBCHNtfv0r5D/s640/041413_FGI_anncmnt-flyer_hi.jpg" width="492" /></a></div>
<br />Terron Jameshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03508184587009172827noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1369455855458939013.post-54980757170933298392013-04-14T19:02:00.001-07:002013-05-21T22:39:00.287-07:00My Erratically Systematic Life<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsnByAUMO2_WPOGHc2YZGwSmQjKsLqXWx8D3AtTaBOkqBsTNSS9aP_jFOaX4bWaOVIGf-q-fNDmV6a1TOMOOWtQq-sTGN90BudwnSzfm0Mi0NDzv3DcTLgDQ08TuSF7V0gPNwFCvVgZh4k/s1600/Life+Course.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="182" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsnByAUMO2_WPOGHc2YZGwSmQjKsLqXWx8D3AtTaBOkqBsTNSS9aP_jFOaX4bWaOVIGf-q-fNDmV6a1TOMOOWtQq-sTGN90BudwnSzfm0Mi0NDzv3DcTLgDQ08TuSF7V0gPNwFCvVgZh4k/s400/Life+Course.png" width="400" /></a></div>
Alright, I admit it. In high school, I had absolutely no life plan, except to graduate high school, impress the girls, and sing & act my heart out. I had my sights on one girl in particular, who was kind enough to write in my senior year book, "You're going to make a girl really happy someday." Ouch. I caught her hidden message. <i>"Just not me."</i><br />
<br />
It wasn't until halfway through my senior year that I finally decided to serve an LDS mission, which then became my entire focus for the next year of my life. I did it. For 2 years, I served, strived, and suffered in the wooded realm of Pennsylvania, hopefully leaving a positive lasting influence. I returned home just 13 days after the 9-11 attacks (I could write an entire novel about the impact 9-11 had on the people in Pennsylvania and New York). It was a life-altering, perspective-forcing experience for me, but that was just the beginning. Little did I suspect what life had in store for me when I got home.<br />
<br />
I had become so focused on serving an LDS mission in high school, that I never made a plan for what I would do when I got home. All I knew was that I had a girl waiting for me... sort of. She had stopped writing me the last 6 months of my mission, which I later found out was because another dude had stepped in. <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIGtnOk8ePB_YNU6MgzWiUCqZXo8RdkbJvdE-MIyU3DUxnkxL7wn2d06uzgRM1E36_TYePu3DV4GlnxzXah8_chZAGYwnffmA9SbqXe8OctuA3FoCmbTL2g9VOCF0MpNXMmvnlvFOQc7RV/s1600/just_broken_heart_01large.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="188" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIGtnOk8ePB_YNU6MgzWiUCqZXo8RdkbJvdE-MIyU3DUxnkxL7wn2d06uzgRM1E36_TYePu3DV4GlnxzXah8_chZAGYwnffmA9SbqXe8OctuA3FoCmbTL2g9VOCF0MpNXMmvnlvFOQc7RV/s200/just_broken_heart_01large.png" width="200" /></a>I admire his ambition, but it was fruitless. I stole Jaime right back when I got home. *breathes on fingernails and rubs on shirt* I took her ring shopping, made my decision, and had it hidden in my pocket. I went to go see her right after the 2002 New Year. Everything seemed great. She gave me a kiss goodnight. That was the last time I ever talked to her. Jaime stopped returning my calls and was never home when I swung by. She had ripped out my heart, smashed it on the pavement, stomped on it, ground it under her heal, and backed over it with her car. To this day, I still don't know what happened.<br />
<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiYNMk60DaEYrv1M7v2WOTWHcunYSfFI5ExDABRCTz37Y9Ayv7EhH3PTbGF5X4eus6ci6uvU5UFeh_S8a1SY7hIRlBl70KL8E0UJPO3UsEkTlP5Y2kduEXX3WxJ3KFW2u9o5oTl6nIiS7P/s1600/6950.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiYNMk60DaEYrv1M7v2WOTWHcunYSfFI5ExDABRCTz37Y9Ayv7EhH3PTbGF5X4eus6ci6uvU5UFeh_S8a1SY7hIRlBl70KL8E0UJPO3UsEkTlP5Y2kduEXX3WxJ3KFW2u9o5oTl6nIiS7P/s200/6950.png" width="196" /></a></div>
I had SOOO much fun during the 2002 Olympics in Salt Lake City, but it was also the most heart-wrenching experience of my life. I couldn't stand to see all the couples cozying up to each other. It was so pathetically romantic. I took a different route. My friends and I ballroom danced in the Gateway fountains, while a thick ring of Olympic-bound foreigners flashed pictures of us with their cameras. Very cold, but VERY worth it. I still smile when I think back to that night.<br />
<br />
During this time, I was working a steady, low paying job as a bank teller. I handled hundreds of thousands of dollars in cash every day. Unfortunately, none of it was mine. In the fall of 2002, I started up classes at Salt Lake Community College, taking only what I could afford on my limited budget. It was during that semester that I met the true love of my life. Crystal and I shared a very abstract class called Bridging the Arts. Every day was a new experience, from talking to oranges and playing follow-the-leader to Native American chants, to dancing with exercise balls and carving soap bars into "action." I enjoyed the class a lot, but probably because I was eyeing the hottie dressed in workout clothes (Crystal had an exercise class before our class). I'll bypass the intricate details of our courtship, since that's not the focus of this post, but in April 2003, the two of us were married in the Salt Lake LDS Temple.<br />
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Now to the main points of this post <b>(keep reading; I promise to tie it all together at the end)</b>. I started college with the intent to follow in the footsteps of my father, becoming a school psychologist. I think that's part of the reason why Jaime dumped me. A life bound to a school psychologist's income would be a very humble life. She wanted more. Little had either of us realized, I only stuck to my school psychology degree <span style="color: red;"><b>(Degree #1)</b></span> for <u>two years</u> (at half-time). Do I regret the wasted school time? Absolutely not. I never would have met Crystal, which means I never would have ended up where I am today, which is exactly where I want to be.<br />
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My next degree choice was business <span style="color: red;"><b>(Degree #2)</b></span>. I had changed jobs to a call center. At that point, I wasn't sure where my life was going. I had taken one of those career evaluation tests, and you know what my results were? <i>"Terron James, you qualify perfectly for the position of a homemaker."</i> Wow. I mean... well... yeah, wow just about sums it up. I obviously wasn't satisfied with the results, so while I tried to figure out my career plan, I thought a business degree would be the safest bet. Every employer would be impressed by a business degree, right?<br />
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Another <u>1.5 years</u> later, I thought I had finally figured it out. I changed my degree again. Bring in mechanical engineering <span style="color: red;"><b>(Degree #3)</b></span>. I was pumped, and as such, began sending ambitious letters to all mechanical engineering firms in Salt Lake City pleading for a position as an apprentice draftsman. Someone took the bait, and for the next <u>10 months</u>, I sat at a desk drafting up HVAC and plumbing plans for Associated Food grocery stores. This was a terribly busy time of my life. I was working 30 hours, taking 15 credits of engineering courses, and playing young men's president for three LDS congregations. I failed two college courses that semester, mostly because I burned myself out. I just didn't have it in me to do the work.<br />
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Surprise, surprise... I outgrew the job, and with it my degree. I was desperate and hopeless. I had been going to college for 5 years and had nothing to show for it. Not even an Associate degree. Out of desperation, I switched my degree to General Studies <span style="color: red;"><b>(Degree #4)</b></span> and got a job as a land surveyor at Ward Engineering Group in Salt Lake City. I was barely keeping my head above water. My wife and I hit a really rocky patch. I was being a terrible father, and an even worse student. Don't even get my started about my video gaming addiction.<br />
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<b>It was then, at the lowest point of my life, that I finally found myself.</b><br />
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My wife and I still argue over who had the original idea, but that doesn't really matter. The important part was that the idea came, and it changed my life. In August of 2008, I decided to write a book. It would be a high fantasy book, meant to fill two personal literature voids:<br />
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ONE: A structured system of magic, with well defined strengths and weaknesses, and never, ever making the reader begin a question with, "Why didn't they just...?"<br />
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TWO: A novel that would inspire youth to want to read. I hesitate to say this, especially if any of my students are reading, but sometimes I feel like schools spend so much time focusing on literature that is embedded with overwhelming complexities that our children forget how fun it is to just read (that being said, I hope I've given my students a completely different experience this year). I wanted to create a book that had no strings attached, written in a way that the reader could immerse themselves at their own preferred level and still enjoy it.<br />
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So I got to work. My dad, while making fun of one of my magic ideas, came up with the concept of True Sight--my magic system in BEHOLDERS. From there, everything else in the story fell into place. It was phenomenal! I often give kudos to my "magic fingers" because, many times, I found myself gawking at the computer screen while my hands went to work on the story. Some of my favorite parts of INSIGHT (the first book in BEHOLDERS) popped up this way, completely unplanned, like the story was being fed to me.<br />
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While my career with Ward Engineering evolved from land surveying to UDOT right of way design, I finally graduated from Salt Lake Community College with my Associate Degree in General Studies and transferred to the University of Utah for my Bachelor Degree in English, with an emphasis in creative writing <span style="color: red;"><b>(DEGREE #5)</b></span>. I loved both worlds (the engineering at my job, and the degree program at the U of U), and they both benefited each other. My work office was right next to a UTA Trax station, and my job hours were flexible enough to allow me to attend the daytime college classes. All I had to do was run across the parking lot and take the train up to the U of U. As my 6-year-old would say, "Easy peesy!" On the flip side, the writing and research classes helped my job dramatically, as I was constantly creating property acquisition deeds for UDOT, and spending days in county recorder offices hunting through property records. Also, my tuition paid for a UTA pass, which enabled me to ride the bus for free from Tooele to SLC, both saving me hundreds of dollars every month and giving me an extra 1.5 hours to do homework and write during the bus rides every day.<br />
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<b><span style="font-size: x-large;">Now to tie it all together<span style="font-size: x-large;">!</span></span></b><br />
<b><span style="font-size: x-large;">(See? I promised I would!)</span></b><br />
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No disrespect to Jaime, but I don't think she would've been able to change my life the way Crystal did. Crystal absolutely refused to let me throw my life away with wasted time (specifically video gaming). It almost ended my marriage because both of us were so stubborn. Even now, I can't believe how ridiculous that sounds... ending a marriage over video games. What in the world was I thinking?? Once I figured out that I cared more about my wife's happiness than I did about my character level on Diablo 2 (again, that sounds SOOOO stupid), everything changed. Our marriage became happier, and I found hours of extra time every day to accomplish other things, like write a book.<br />
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Now regarding the jobs and degrees... <br />
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<u>psychology degree</u><br />
Goodbye Jaime (again, no disrespect, but I needed Crystal and love her a lot more)<br />
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<u>business degree & banking job</u><br />
I spent a lot of time studying financing, investments, budgeting, etc. During this time, Crystal and I made a very wise choice to buy a condo, with a mortgage lower than our rent payment, and acquiring equity that could be turned around to help with our home purchase in Tooele. I also learned crucial skills that have helped us through very difficult financial times.<br />
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<u>call center job</u><br />
This job opened my eyes to the effectiveness of utilizing every second of every day. I still can't believe how much we can accomplish with seconds. Seriously.<br />
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<u>mechanical engineering degree and draftsman job</u><br />
led me to Ward Engineering Group<br />
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<u>Associates in General Studies</u><br />
A tremendous sense of accomplishment. Finally, I had something to show for my efforts.<br />
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<u>Ward Engineering Group and English degree</u><br />
I've already explained these two a little, but let me continue, because it was here that I started utilizing all of my acquired skills. I'd wake up at 4:45 in the morning, ride my bike to the bus stop in Tooele, write in my book for 45 minutes on the way into work, then another hour before work started at 7 AM, work until 4, go to school until 6, do homework on the bus ride home, do more homework and book-writing until midnight, then go to bed and do it all again the next day. Time management at it's very best! I also had a couple friends at Ward Engineering who helped me refine the technical aspects of my book (particularly the portable bridge and the aqueduct system--thanks again, Todd and AJ!). Lastly, one of my best buds, Travis, sat next to me for years. We'd spend countless hours talking about BEHOLDERS while we worked. He was definitely my main muse, and my biggest cheerleader. I owe a ton to him.<br />
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Because of the failing economy, I was eventually laid off from Ward Engineering in June of 2011. It was frustrating, but by then, I had learned to roll with life's punches, and it totally paid off. I spent the next year writing full-time and giving writing workshops at schools all over Utah. It was during this time that I realized my passion for teaching. When I graduated with my English BA in 2012, I immediately applied for a position as a junior high English teacher, and got it! I was overwhelmed, but super excited, and this school year has surpassed my expectations. I LOVE MY STUDENTS, ALL 130 OF THEM! (I want to shout that again, but this post is long enough as it is.)<br />
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So where am I going with all of this? I'm a religious man, and I believe God has played a very personal role in my life. Even though I was unable to figure out my own life, He did it for me. All I had to do was let Him. For everyone who feels like a water skeeter floating in the middle of the Pacific Ocean, learn from my experiences. Prayer, faith, and long-suffering are your best friends. "Never give up! Never Surrender!" <i>(Galaxy Quest)</i>. I can't tell you how many times I floundered. I remember one specific facebook post where I questioned the necessity of finishing school, and my stomach still churns when I think back to that time of my life. Ten years for a Bachelor degree? By the time I had graduated, one of my high school buddies was already doing his residency as an anesthesiologist. Ridiculous... yet I don't begrudge the journey. I don't wish I could do it again *shudder*, but I'm glad I endured it. It took ten years for everything to come together, but it did. Well, at least I think it did. Either way, I can't wait to see what the next ten years bring (hopefully without the career changes)!<br />
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Terron Jameshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03508184587009172827noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1369455855458939013.post-35704224597074056552013-03-21T06:00:00.000-07:002013-03-21T06:00:03.060-07:00Book Review - Pitch Green<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfCLSQ4WS9t_I13YN62BHnFqIyFdNBROaPeaNF0vrDAaU5usNOKxhJBFWiElmPwHJ0tKErFVV24KG7h85xglXPB7wC0iyUWTIwbrTwSpLcBArPBImxBcr1RPLBItUl80wIfhCpG3YLtgbg/s1600/Pitch+Green_cover_hi.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfCLSQ4WS9t_I13YN62BHnFqIyFdNBROaPeaNF0vrDAaU5usNOKxhJBFWiElmPwHJ0tKErFVV24KG7h85xglXPB7wC0iyUWTIwbrTwSpLcBArPBImxBcr1RPLBItUl80wIfhCpG3YLtgbg/s320/Pitch+Green_cover_hi.jpg" width="206" /></a></div>
Another ARC (Advance Reading Copy) has made its way to my doorstep, but this time from <a href="http://thebrotherswashburn.blogspot.com/" target="_blank"><u><b>The Brothers Washburn</b></u></a>. Berk and Andy Washburn , aka “The Brothers Washburn,” are both lawyers by profession, writers at heart. They grew up together roaming the wastelands of the Mojave Desert, where most of this novel series is set. Both brothers returned from lengthy and successful careers in the wastelands of the law to write YA horror stories based on the wastelands of their youth. They currently live north of Denver, Colorado. <i>The Dimensions in Death</i> series is merely the beginning of the ingenious and spine-tingling world of The Brothers Washburn. Be on your guard, people, there is a new Grimm in town.<br />
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<i><a href="http://jollyfishpress.com/authors/Brothers_Washburn/Pitch_Green/Pitch_Green-reviews.html" target="_blank"><u><b>Pitch Green</b></u></a></i>, my friends, is an exciting thriller that gets your blood pumping from beginning to end. One specific character, Camelot Mist Smith, is destined to be the Nancy Drew of this decade. She definitely has the brains and courage to keep her unauthorized and even prohibited sleuthing moving forward.<br />
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The supernatural happenings in the book are grounded just enough to give you the impression that there might be a scientific explanation behind them. Washburns' descriptions are vivid enough to leave you with an extra sense of vulnerability. You will be scared. No questions asked.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b>The Brothers Washburn</b></td></tr>
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<br />Terron Jameshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03508184587009172827noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1369455855458939013.post-14649615489497233372013-03-14T13:45:00.001-07:002013-03-22T13:12:38.849-07:00My Official Cover!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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In August of 2008, I first created the Beholders series. Since then, my life has been filled with ups, downs and all sorts of turn-arounds. One of the ups, however, came in January of 2012, when I was first introduced to Jolly Fish Press. At that point, I had no interest in querying a publisher, but I was so impressed by the knowledge, connections, and ambition of Jolly Fish Press that I couldn't stop myself. A couple months later, I joined the ranks of many talented authors who contracted with JFP.<br />
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Since contracting with JFP, my book-writing journey has been an absolute joy! JFP has never ceased to inspire and amaze me. The latest came about through their creation of my cover for <i>Insight</i>, book one of <i>Beholders</i>. Observe and be amazed!<br />
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I've got a major fire under me right now. I am SOOO inspired to write! I can only imagine how my ambition will escalate in April, when my three maps for <i>Insight </i>are finalized. Can't wait!<br />
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In short, if you're looking for a publisher (or, like me, not looking) who puts your success first in their priorities, <a href="http://jollyfishpress.com/" target="_blank"><u><b>Jolly Fish Press</b></u></a> is the publisher for you. Don't wait. Query them now! I know I speak for all of my fellow JFP authors when I say that our publisher has our backs, through and through! Take a look at JFP's recent releases (<a href="http://jollyfishpress.com/titles.html" target="_blank"><u><b>CLICK HERE</b></u></a>) and ask any of those authors. They'll all tell you the same thing.
Terron Jameshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03508184587009172827noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1369455855458939013.post-55847681913614250272013-03-06T10:06:00.002-07:002013-03-13T11:53:47.773-07:00Book Review - Dissension<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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I was recently honored with an ARC. For those who have never heard of an ARC, it is an Advance Reading Copy of a book that is scheduled to be published in the near future. In this case, my ARC came from <a href="http://jollyfishpress.com/authors/Adrienne_Monson/Dissension/Dissension.html" target="_blank"><u><b>Adrienne Monson</b></u></a>, winner of the 2009 Oquirrh's Writer's Contest and the Utah RWA's Great Beginnings. Adrienne has immersed herself in different kinds of fiction since she was a wee lass, but she has always found herself to have a voracious appetite for vampire novels.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUS58sko2201F0XgK4-0UhrwoVE7oTgZi2LamJo4pRqY6e2hNxr65Wj3v67LqrUCYVd0mgV7GDXaJrUulUrhtsQWxCi77tbL2pl7M1R2Opf61YS0JZNrMfreFuyuFMAgkbFMUOW1R0ribM/s1600/Dissension+Cover.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUS58sko2201F0XgK4-0UhrwoVE7oTgZi2LamJo4pRqY6e2hNxr65Wj3v67LqrUCYVd0mgV7GDXaJrUulUrhtsQWxCi77tbL2pl7M1R2Opf61YS0JZNrMfreFuyuFMAgkbFMUOW1R0ribM/s320/Dissension+Cover.png" width="202" /></a>Now, before you turn your head with Twilight disgust, let me clarify. Adrienne's book, <a href="http://jollyfishpress.com/authors/Adrienne_Monson/Dissension/Dissension.html" target="_blank"><i><u><b>Dissension</b></u></i></a>, is an AWESOME vampire novel, one which takes us back to the origins of vampire stories (before they started sparkling 'n' stuff). Not only is her story fantastic, but Adrienne's writing skills are phenomenal. Her honed craft grabs you by the shirt collar and drags you through the pages. You can't stop reading, no matter how hard you try. Yes, it's <i>that</i> good. If you don't believe me, take a look at this book trailer:<br />
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<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/PHU8n-PeLZA" width="560"></iframe><br />
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Now, on to my own personal review of <i>Dissension</i>. When you pick this book up and start reading it (yes, you WILL read it <i>*waves hand across your face*</i>), don't be fooled by the first chapter. It initially appears to be a very erotic novel, and you might even start asking yourself why a half-naked man didn't fill the front cover, but worry not. The sleazy rapist gets his comeuppance. In Adrienne's novel, vampires don't eat animals. They feed on worthless rapists and murderers. At least that's the case with the protagonist, Leisha.<br />
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If you've never read a REAL non-Twilightish vampire book before, you might find yourself distressed in Dissension's complexities, but don't become discouraged. Don't stop reading. By the time you get to chapter 8, everything comes together. The author will enthrall you through simultaneous fulfillment and anticipation.<br />
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I loved Monson's unique descriptions of vampires and immortals, as well as the conflict and tension between them. To make a non-spoiler point, I especially enjoyed the relationship between Samantha and her father. Hands down, I would give this book a solid five stars. I'll be waiting anxiously for the rest of the Blood Inheritance series to come out.<br />
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I know you're asking yourself, "Where can I get this amazing book?! I can't wait any longer!" Well, the good news is, you don't have to. It was released the end of last month, both in hard copy and e-book formats (<a href="http://jollyfishpress.com/authors/Adrienne_Monson/Dissension/Dissension.html#buy" target="_blank"><u><b>CLICK HERE</b></u></a> to see purchase links). However, if you can make it, I recommend that you attend Adrienne's official book launch party tomorrow. It sounds like it's going to be quite the event, something you don't want to miss. I certainly plan to be there. Here are the details:<br />
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Dissension Book Launch Party! <br />
Thursday, March 7, 2013<br />
6:00 pm - 8:00 pm <br />
Barnes & Noble Booksellers<br />
330 E University Pkwy, Orem, Utah 84058<br />
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"We want you all to dress like vampires so you can be in the first ever Vampire Themed Harlem Shake video. This party is to launch Dissension, book 1 in the Blood Inheritance Trilogy; now available! Please join us for a big celebration! Feel free to dress as a vampire and Adrienne will be signing as many books as possible that night."<br />
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Make sure to check out Adrienne's website (<a href="http://jollyfishpress.com/authors/Adrienne_Monson/Dissension/Dissension.html" target="_blank"><u><b>CLICK HERE</b></u></a>). If you scroll to the bottom of her web page, you will see all of Adrienne's contact info, including facebook, twitter, and blog.Terron Jameshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03508184587009172827noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1369455855458939013.post-55505226880956895522013-02-27T17:04:00.003-07:002013-02-27T23:03:21.429-07:00Lest We Forget - Part 2<u><span style="font-size: x-large;"><b>PART T<span style="font-size: x-large;">WO</span></b></span></u> <br />
Now that I've posted a factual account of what happened during our van-roll (<a href="http://terronjames.blogspot.com/2013/02/lest-we-forget-part-1.html" target="_blank"><u><b>Lest We Forget - Part 1</b></u></a>), I'm moving on to a more journalish type of entry from start to finish. I have a lot of thoughts I need to get "on paper," so feel free to stop reading whenever you get bored. This is more for me than for you.<br />
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Crystal and I are usually always running late, mostly due to last minute diaper and clothing changes. Our house is ALWAYS on the go, to say the least, which makes it very difficult to maintain consistent schedules. Last month, we decided to up our game and ensure that every day, NO MATTER WHAT, we would have family and individual scripture study/prayers. We created a chart and, if we could complete it without skipping a day, established a fantabulous reward. We would travel to Salt Lake City for a little stay-cation at a hotel. Some of our fondest memories have been during these stay-cations, so we had strong motivation to finish the chart. It was very tough, but WE DID IT! <br />
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Despite our overwhelmingly busy lives, Crystal and I still scheduled our weekend at the hotel. We needed a break, and even more, we earned it. On Saturday morning, we filled our van with luggage, and shipped out. We had one more stop on the way to the hotel, though. Crystal and I were going to the temple. We had a lot to be grateful for, and attending the temple was the last empty square on our chart.<br />
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You can probably imagine my frustration when we rolled our van. After the chaos stopped and I verified my family was safe, I remember mentally pounding my fist on the dashboard and thinking, "You have GOT to be kidding me! We just finished this chart and were on the way to the TEMPLE, for crying out loud!" Once my senses returned, however, I realized that it was because we had finished our goal chart and were on the way to the temple that we were so miraculously protected. Even three weeks later, Crystal and I still have no idea what actually happened during the crash.<br />
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Now back up a little. As we drove from Tooele to the crash site, I was talking to my older sister, Angela, on the phone. I hung up with her only seconds before our van started sliding. I try not to imagine what she might have heard on the phone had I still been talking to her. I know that swearing would not be part of the sounds (I just don't do that), but that's the least of my concerns. Frantic cries, children screams, grunts, shouts, shattering windows, crunching fiberglass, folding metal, banging debris. When someone mentions PTSD (post traumatic stress disorder), most of us immediately think of soldiers, and rightly so. However, I can't help but think that our family is enduring a bit of PTSD ourselves. I attribute that mostly to the sounds, topped with our own wild imaginations of what could have happened.<br />
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During the crash, my family was protected and relatively uninjured, but not unharmed. I haven't had a solid night's sleep since the accident. On many occasions and without any instigation, I've felt an overwhelming need to cry. My wife... well, she probably wants to keep her own issues to herself, but she's struggling. She still panics every time we take the on-ramp from Tooele toward Salt Lake City. Our two oldest boys are lashing out, getting into more trouble and throwing tantrums for completely unnecessary reasons. Our two youngest boys cry and scream all day long, often without any motivation. Our youngest boy constantly wants to be held, has nearly lost his appetite, and won't let us out of his sight. If we disappear to another room, he chases after us. If we close a door between us, a full blown meltdown ensues. When we go for a drive, our van is deathly silent, broken sporadically with comments about our driving. "Good turn, Mommy." "I don't like it when you start driving that fast. The car makes too much noise." "That's a red light, so start slowing down now." "Now, Daddy, you need to be extra careful driving today because the ground is covered with snow and ice." Kids shouldn't have to worry about things like that. <br />
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Many people have asked what went through my mind as our van started rolling. I've joked around, often referencing Brian Regan's comedy routine about Evil Knievel (<a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8w06S_JHuhY" target="_blank"><u><b>youtube link</b></u></a>), but I did have a lot of thoughts run though my head. It's crazy how slowly time moves during a high-tension event. When our van started sliding, I remember placing my right hand on the dashboard and placing my left hand on my wife's shoulder to reassure her. I've been in quite a few fender benders, so a sliding car wasn't all that terrifying to me. However, once we started sliding off the road toward the steep embankment, very specific procedural items flooded my mind. I thought of my friend in 11th grade who had his arm busted in half by an airbag, so I pulled my hand away from the dashboard. I thought of my boating excursions as a teenager. My favorite activity was getting yanked around by the boat roped to my tube, and my favorite part of the activity was wiping out. The more violent, the better. Every time I flew off the tube, I had a list of action items. I would clench my teeth (so I didn't bite my tongue) and pull my head, arms, and legs in to form a partial fetal position (which seemed to help with the whiplash). These same thoughts ran through my head right before our van crashed, and they probably saved my life. Had I not tucked my head down, the crushed roof might have broken my neck. Right as the van started rolling, I even remember having the same exhilarating rush that I used to have while boating. I might have even grunted a challenging, "C'mon!" but I can't be sure.<br />
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During the rolling, I focused on keeping my head forward and arms tucked in. I didn't want one of them sticking out the window while the van rolled on my side. I had my eyes opened, but squinted, to protect them from shattering glass. I don't remember seeing a lot of ground as we rolled. Out my front window, I mostly saw the sky. There were many distinct bangs as we rolled, but I was too disoriented to notice where and how. Interestingly enough, not once during the accident was I ever concerned with my personal safety. I'd like to think I was comforted and knew I would be alright, but perhaps I was just too stupid to recognize our danger. After all, I was living a temporary teenage moment again.<br />
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After our van halted and I realized that we were on our wheels again, the first thing I noticed was the cold breeze coursing through our van. Windows had obviously broken, but mine were still intact. Next, I watched all of the cars surrounding us drive away. There were at least 5 other vehicles around us when we crashed, but not one of them stopped. I couldn't believe it. The more I think back about it, the more it pisses me off. Seriously. Anyway, a few more vehicles swerved out of the way, barely missing my side of the van as they continued on their way. I gave up looking for help and turned to my family. I put my left hand on my wife's shoulder and pulled her back against her seat, checking her for blood or injuries. Although she claims otherwise, I saw hysteria and panic in her eyes. She screamed a couple times as she looked past me at the cars dodging past our front end.<br />
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At that point, Crystal put the van in park and turned off the engine. We exchanged a worried glance, then turned back to our boys. All four of them were terrified and crying. I checked everyone for any signs of injury (there were none), but my eyes lingered on our 2nd son, Dawsen, who just turned 6 years old last week. He expresses his emotions very differently than his brothers. Rather than throwing outburst cry-fit tantrums, Dawsen is a lot more calculated. He contains his emotions, even when crying. A few weeks ago, Dawsen spilled boiling water on his hand while trying to make himself a Cup Noodles. Crystal heard a cry from the other room, then eerie silence. She called for Dawsen, but he wouldn't respond. She finally found him hiding behind a chair in our front room. His face contorted in agony as he cupped his injured hand, but not a sound escaped his lips. The same thing was happening again. While Dawsen's brothers wailed, Dawsen locked eyes with me and pleaded silently for help with that same agonized expression. I asked him if he was alright, and that's finally when the tears started to flow. "When do we get to go home to bed, Daddy?" was the only thing he could get out between the hysterical hiccups. Like his mom, Dawsen loves his bed and finds great comfort in sleep. This was his way of saying he just wanted it all to end. I also remember Dallen, our oldest, crying that we weren't going to make it to the temple to finish our chart. He had been so proud of our family for our accomplishment. Lastly, much to my amazement, our one-year-old, Dax, still had his binkie in his mouth. I think that was our last binkie, so many of you parents can understand how much of a blessing it was that he still had it in his mouth. He cried for awhile, of course, but then the pacifier kicked in and did its trick. Just like Dawsen needed his bed, Dax needed his binkie.<br />
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Crystal was the first person to really digest our predicament. "Call 911!" she ordered me over the screaming. I moved to dig into my pocket, but I realized that I still had my cell phone gripped in my right hand. I thought nothing of it at the time, but we later realized what a huge blessing this was. Crystal's phone, which had been stashed in a net basket between our seats, was gone (it had flown out a window during the crash and I found it buried in the snow about 30 feet away). I called 911 and an ambulance and a firetruck arrived within 5 minutes. They had been parked at the nearby Flying J.<br />
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While I was on the phone with the 911 dispatcher, a man named Gerald knocked on my wife's window. Finally, someone had stopped. He first asked us if anyone was hurt, then, recognizing the dangerous location of our van, backed his half-ton pickup through the oncoming traffic to create a buffer between my side of the van and the approaching vehicles. No one hit his truck and he did nothing to help us besides offer his aid, but Gerald is a hero. Gerald is my hero. Take a lesson from Gerald and stop next time you see a car crash, regardless of how minor the accident is or how helpless you feel. Gerald stayed with us up until our ride arrived to take us home. We didn't need Gerald there, but we <i>needed</i> Gerald (if that makes any sense). Do a good turn. Be someone else's Gerald.<br />
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By the time the ambulance showed up, I was out scouring the road's shoulder for our ejected possessions. I often criticize myself for leaving my family buckled and abandoned in the van. My kids were bawling and terrified. Crystal was frantic. Why would I put our crap above their needs? My only explanation is that I was in what I call "zombie mode." Every morning, when my alarm goes off, I have to place myself in zombie mode or else I start thinking too much and convince myself to stay in bed. I just shut off my brain and go through my habitual motions. I think I did the same thing at the crash scene. I turned off my brain and went through the motions. Kids need medical attention? No. Stuff on the ground? Pick it up.<br />
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Anyway, I'm grateful to report that the EMTs took care of my children. They were leaning in windows, sharing treats, calming children, and hanging blankets over the windows to block out the blanketing snow. As I wandered around looking for our junk, I noticed Crystal standing far off, talking on my phone. She was in a thin dress without a coat, but seemed completely unaware of that fact as she relayed the news of our accident to our families. It was during this time that my parents hopped in their own two vehicles and started the long, slow trek through ugly weather to our house. Then Crystal called my second wave of heroes for the day, Jen and Jared. I consider them both friends, but we hadn't really spoken (besides the occasional howdy in a grocery store) for years. That fact didn't matter. Jared hurried out to his own van and CAREFULLY rushed to our aid.<br />
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In the meantime, I sat in a highway patrol car, offering scattered and confused details to the police officer about what happened during our crash, while my wife and four sons warmed up in the back of the ambulance. Again, no medical attention was necessary beyond a quick check of my oldest boy's bonk on his head. Luckily, the highway patrolman didn't give my wife a ticket, since we were driving at a reasonable speed and didn't cause any property damage to anything but our own vehicle. The whole situation was just bad luck, or maybe good luck. I've often wondered if God made that accident happen. If we hadn't crashed, what terrible tragedy awaited us on our way into Salt Lake City?<br />
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When Jared showed up with his van, my family piled in while Jared and I transferred my essential belongings. Because we were already on the on-ramp, the only way to get home was to continue onto the freeway, then turn around at Salt Air and come back home. That was a VERY long 20-mile drive. I sat in the back seat between my two oldest. They gripped my arms with trembling hands while our babies stared out their middle-seat windows with anxious bug eyes. I felt so vulnerable. We all did. When I get nervous, I talk a lot. Just ask my wife about the obnoxious and scatterbrained conversations I've had with pre-op nurses. Jared got an earful that day, which no doubt included many comments about how to drive. He kindly allowed me to talk it out without any rebuttals.<br />
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We made it home without further incident, then a half-hour later, my parents showed up. Third wave of heroes. They left their van for us, stayed for a couple hours to reassure and comfort us, argued that we should still go to the hotel, then went back home. Oh, and my dad and I went for a quick run to the grocery store to buy some comfort food. We tried to stop by the tow yard to take pictures of our van, but the yard was closed for the weekend. OH, and how could I forget that my mom spent an hour deep cleaning our house? Crystal utterly refuses that sort of help, but on that day, Crystal offered little resistance as she gratefully watched from the couch. <br />
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Crystal and I didn't even consider my parents' suggestion at first, but as the hours moved on and the sky/road cleared, we decided that a vacation had become more necessary than ever. We said an earnest prayer of thanks, then loaded my parents' van with our stuff and tried again. I drove this time, by Crystal's suggestion, because Dawsen had postulated something along the lines of, "Mommy, I'm never getting into a car with you again while you're driving." We knew the reservation would pass, but offered them a bit of comfort in the meantime. This was a huge sacrifice for Crystal, too. She suffers from severe passenger anxiety and has been driving our family around for the past 8 years.<br />
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On our way to the hotel, we drove VERY slowly past the crash site, partly to prevent another crash, and partly to try and examine the damage on the side of the hill. There was too much snow. We couldn't see anything. Once at the hotel with a hearty KFC dinner in our bellies, the six of us changed into our swimsuits and spent the rest of the evening at the hotel pool. Crystal's parents (heroes #4) drove to the hotel and visited with us while we swam and enjoyed a much needed soak in the hot tub. I say heroes #4 because they took care of our babies, who were still quite frazzled over the incident earlier that day. Dax usually loves to swim, but he treated the pool like a plague. When we got too close to the water, he'd bellow like someone was branding him with a hot iron. We eventually convinced him to get in the water, but only while clinging with white knuckles to his mommy. It didn't last long, either, and that's when Grandma Stanger showed up and intervened. Duncan, our two-year-old, lasted a bit longer, but he spent a good chunk of time on Grandpa Stanger's knee.<br />
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We waited a week for our insurance to process our claim and cut us a very considerate check for our totalled van. After a long and careful inspection of potential replacements (mostly done by Grandpa Stanger, our in-house vehicle expert), we finally purchased a replacement van a week ago. Things have seemed to calm down a lot since then. When my puppy died back when I was in 8th grade, the only action that eased my pain was to purchase a new puppy. Then my dead dog's toys and memories were replaced with the living dog. I expect much of the same has happened with our new van, replacing old memories with new. And me... well, I always love a new toy to play with. <br />
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I will end my dialogue here. I could keep going on forever with a daily play-by-play, but I think I've covered the necessities for my mental health. <b>If you've made it this far and still have questions, please write them in the comments to this post and I'll respond with answers.</b>Terron Jameshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03508184587009172827noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1369455855458939013.post-35633267676956664192013-02-19T10:25:00.004-07:002013-02-19T10:25:36.365-07:00Lest We Forget - Part 1<u><span style="font-size: x-large;"><b>PART ONE</b></span></u> <br />
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On Saturday, February 9, 2013, my family and I were in a roll-over accident. Let me give you a couple of background points before I jump into the pics and videos.<br />
<ul>
<li>The six of us were traveling in our 2006 Dodge Grand Caravan at about 40-50 mph.</li>
<li>My wife, Crystal, was driving and I was in the passenger seat. Our four sons, ages 1, 2, 5, & 7, filled up the seats behind us.</li>
<li>We were on our way to a hotel in SLC for a weekend stay-cation, so naturally our van was packed full of hotel necessities.</li>
<li>We also had a healthy quantity of recyclables in the van, which we had planned to drop off at my parents' house in West Jordan (since Tooele discontinued their recycling program). So, if our van looks like it was full of garbage, it's because it was. </li>
<li>The weather was cold and snowing, but not so much that we felt uncomfortable traveling in it. We had been driving at relatively normals speeds the whole day.</li>
</ul>
Now, the basic details of what happened: <br />
<ul>
<li>When we entered the eastbound on-ramp of I-80 (in the left lane), our van began fishtailing to the right, so that the right side of our van was acting as the "front" of our vehicle. No amount of gas, brakes, or wheel maneuvering pulled us out. We were completely at the mercy of Nature.</li>
<li>As we traveled down the road, our van continued twisting to the left. This was especially terrifying because looming over the left side of the road was a small hill, which shot out of the ground at a dangerously steep slope. Both Crystal and I knew that if we slammed into that hill with the side of our van, the result would be catastrophic. </li>
<li>After about 5 seconds of "Oh, no!" the front passenger tire slipped onto the recessed shoulder. We never directly impacted the hill. We rolled up it. At least I think we did.</li>
</ul>
I originally thought I knew every detail of exactly how our van flipped along the hill and landed on all 4 tires again (facing the opposite direction), but after returning to the tow lot on Monday to examine the damage, I'm at a complete loss. The only thing I'm certain of now is that we achieved some serious hang-time, ricocheting off of random locations on all 6 sides of our van. My wife thinks we must have rolled completely over at least 2 times.<br />
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This picture shows the first impact point of our van. As you can see, our van "folded" over the edge of the road's shoulder. Our kindergartener, Dawsen, was in the middle-right seat. Remarkably, his only injuries were a few scratches on the left side of his face from flying debris. I suspect that this initial impact sent most of our stuff flying out the window. I'm also very surprised that the other two windows are still there. Unfortunately, this is the only shot I have of the front of the van. You can't see it because of the snow, but the front underside of the van is draping down in pieces. I've posted a short post-interview with Dawsen below:<br />
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This picture bewilders me. We obviously made solid impact above my wife's head, thus shattering the windshield and denting the frame above her door, but I'm at a loss regarding her side of the van. Her side-view mirror is missing and there are dents and scratches on her door, yet her window remains intact. I was also grateful that the sliding door window was unbroken, since our one-year-old, Dax, was sitting there. He was traumatized enough from the accident as it was. When we first entered the tow lot on Monday, Dax started trembling. The closer we got to the van, the more anxious he became. We had to keep a 5-foot buffer between him and the van because, if we got any closer, he'd start whimpering and crying. He remembers. He knows.<br />
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This picture shows Dallen (our 2nd grader) and Dawsen (our kindergartener). Dallen was sitting in the back left corner of the van, and sustained the worst injury of us all. You can see the dents on the frame between the 2 shattered windows, proving that this was another point of impact. When we hit that corner of the van, the left side of Dallen's head banged the steel seat belt loop. He now has a 4-inch goose egg above his left ear. All things considered, though, we'll gladly take that injury. This accident could have ended up so much worse.<br />
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This picture has an entertaining story to go along with it (you have to look for humor, even in trauma, right?). On the day of the accident, when our van stopped rolling and the screaming settled down, our 2-year-old, Duncan, started rattling off a hysterical account of his experience. He kept repeating the phrase, "We fell down in a circle," along with very specific details about applesauce. It wasn't until we returned to the van on Monday that we finally pieced this together. Right next to Duncan, still wedged between the window and the seat belt, was this 6-pack of applesauce. I imagine that during the accident, the applesauce was dancing in front of Duncan before catching in the seat belt. I'm glad he had a focal point, rather than watching the rest of his family whip around in front of him. We've tried to get Duncan to retell his story about the applesauce again (as you'll see in the interview below), but it was a one-time thing. The chocolate comments have since come to light, too, from our oldest son. Dallen said that one of the EMT's gave him a mini bar of chocolate, which he broke into pieces to share with his brothers.<br />
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This picture shows Dallen's and Duncan's view from the back seat (the middle seats were moved down when the paramedics pulled everyone out of the van). This picture disturbs me for two reasons.<br />
<ol>
<li>Crystal has always been terrified that, should she experience a plane crash, she would be in the very back and have to watch what happens to everybody else before the carnage reached her. On a less gruesome scale, I believe that my four boys will have to endure more emotional scarring than Crystal and I because of their view of the accident. That vision would burn in my mind for the rest of my life.</li>
<li>I didn't realize how close I came to a spinal injury. That dented roof combed my hair.</li>
</ol>
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This picture doesn't look like much, except a bunch of recyclable garbage, but an important story goes along with it. Without a doubt, the worst part of the accident happened right after we stopped rolling. I glanced at Crystal to make sure she was alright, and she returned my stare with wide eyes. We both took a quick, frantic breath, then turned around to see the damage behind us. I've never been so terrified of seeing blood, broken limbs, motionless bodies, or the worst, missing people. Gratefully, all four boys were still safely bucked in their seatbelts/car seats, and screaming bloody murder. I've never been so happy to hear my kids cry.<br />
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These two pictures seem rather uninteresting, but they give a good perspective on the chaos which ensued during the crash. The rear view mirror moved halfway back the van, and all those white grocery bags full of recyclables were stashed behind the back seat. And, once again, there is the package of applesauce. A few white blankets were left in the van, too, which the paramedics had used to try and cover the windows. Personally, I didn't notice the cold very much. I had more important things on my mind. Good thing we have medical professionals to watch out for us.<br />
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<b><i><span style="color: red;">(Stay tuned for Part 2, an emotional and detailed account of my entire experience from the day of the accident until now. I've been working on it for the past week, but it has been to emotionally overwhelming to attempt in such a short span of time. For now, at least you have the details of the accident.)</span></i></b>Terron Jameshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03508184587009172827noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1369455855458939013.post-61800918497040553282013-01-30T11:38:00.000-07:002013-01-30T11:44:55.516-07:00The Weresquirrel - Hold On To Your Nuts!<!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijsJumu_wYz6pi2iYjZHg9FdBMqGon82R4st_21t4cYUfYGcJyH0eixyjhvKzSQ46LGRoc7Z2NPq07cV2Z2NehgJlLKji1ucqDYecGQYJuotqtGuUijgDBIyiZ57BJ19j1p6WsHP4OYAM0/s1600/weresquirrel.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="322" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijsJumu_wYz6pi2iYjZHg9FdBMqGon82R4st_21t4cYUfYGcJyH0eixyjhvKzSQ46LGRoc7Z2NPq07cV2Z2NehgJlLKji1ucqDYecGQYJuotqtGuUijgDBIyiZ57BJ19j1p6WsHP4OYAM0/s400/weresquirrel.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><b>(From a news article, featuring a squirrel that got it's head stuck in a Halloween decoration. It's not a literal representation of The Weresquirrel, but an entertaining accessory to the story nonetheless.)</b></i></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;">
<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">The Weresquirrel</span></b></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">(Hold On To Your Nuts)</span><br />
<i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">Copyright 2012</span></i><br />
<i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">By Terron James, Christina W. Cook, Krista Wayment,
and J. A. Bennett</span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">Abby
shivered in her thin zip hoodie and snuggled closer to Christian. The sun had
left a low orange smear across the western horizon and, with its descent, the
warmth in the mountain air bled away. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">Christian
pressed his body against hers and leaned in for another kiss. Warm chills thrilled
through her. A senior. She was totally making out with a senior. Her friends
would die of jealousy. His rough five o’clock shadow grinded against her chin. Abby
leaned back and curved her lips into a smile. So different from the scrawny
geeks her age. Christian was no freshman. He was a man.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">“Your
nose is cold,” Christian said, looking down at her. The deepening shadows
played across his face, carving out his strong cheekbones and hiding his eyes. “I’ll
make a fire.” </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">“Thanks,”
Abby replied with a shiver. “I was just about to ask.”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">“My
pleasure.” Christian kissed the tip of her nose, then jerked back, stood up,
and wandered off with his lips pulled tight. A few steps later, he bent down to
pick up a small log and spit on the ground.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: .5in;">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">What was that
all about?</span></i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">
Abby wondered, bringing the back of her hand against her face. A sticky fluid
warmed her knuckles. She pulled her hand away and gawked at the clear snot
glistening on her skin. <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Holy crap!</i></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">She
glanced back up at Christian, mortified that he had tasted her drippy nose. The
lingering orange glow from the sun had disappeared and Christian’s tall frame was
barely visible. Fallen twigs and needles from the surrounding pine trees crackled
under his feet as he wandered around searching the ground for kindling. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">Abby
breathed deeply, hoping their night wasn’t ruined. To distract herself, she unzipped
her small, red backpack and dug inside for a snack.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">“Christian,”
she called, “have you seen my trail mix?” She fingered through the small pack—lip
gloss, travel size body spray, gum, but no trail mix. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">“Huh?”
he replied, his footsteps a distant crackle.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">“My
trail mix. Did you take it?” The thought of Christian stealing her food bugged
Abby. She had been counting on that trail mix to sustain her energy. Aside from
the peanut M&Ms, the bag was packed full of assorted nuts. Cashews were
definitely her favorite, but she had heard somewhere that almonds were the most
filling, so she had thrown a handful of those in, too. Her mouth watered. <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">He better have some food in his pack.</i></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">Amidst
her brooding, Abby suddenly realized that Christian had not replied. She peered
between the surrounding trees, but could no longer see him through the pale
light. She looked up. The full moon glowed large and bright, but offered little
comfort. An overwhelming sense of vulnerability filled her as she thought of
being left alone in the woods.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">Abby
strained her eyes, hoping to see Christian on his way back. She ached for the
comfort of a blazing fire and his strong, warm body.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">A
loud snap reached her ears, then a high pitched scream pierced the air. No, not
a scream. More like a squeak. Abby’s breath caught in her throat and she jumped
to her feet. The noise was followed by a stifling silence.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">“Christian?”
she called, trying to keep her voice steady. The last thing she wanted was for
him to think she was a baby. Still no response.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">A
cloud blanketed the moon, rendering her blind. Abby donned her backpack and thrust
her hands out in front of herself, refusing to stand around and wait. She took
a tentative step forward, then paused and listened. Nothing. She took another step,
then another.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">As
quickly as it had appeared, the cloud moved away and moonlight poured back into
the forest. A small creature stood hunched over at her feet. Abby recoiled with
a start, but realized the rodent was just a squirrel. Its back was turned
toward her as it gnawed on something and smacked its lips. It seemed completely
unaware of her presence. Abby began to smile, oddly comforted by the small
animal’s presence.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">Then
it turned to face her.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">Abby’s
smile froze on her face. Blood-red eyes caught her stare and pierced her soul. Two
pointed teeth protruded from the front of its mouth like daggers. Moonlight glinted
on those horrible teeth and Abby watched in stunned silence as they bit down on
a long cylindrical object.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">In
one horrifying flash of understanding, Abby recognized Christian’s class ring
still wrapped around his dismembered, half-eaten middle finger. A scream burst
from her throat, tearing through the night.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">The
squirrel cocked its head and its round eyes blinked up at her. Abby knew the
little beast was not afraid of her. In fact, it seemed to be sizing her up—maybe
even planning its dessert.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">Abby
backed away. Toe. Heel. Toe. Heel. She wanted to run to the four-wheeler, but
she was lost. All she could do was put more distance between herself and the
little carnivore munching on Christian’s finger. Abby shuddered. Where was the rest
of him?</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">The
squirrel tipped its head to the other side as it watched her back away. Before
she knew what was happening, Abby felt her shoe come down on a pinecone with a
deafening crack. The squirrel twitched into a frenzy. After dropping
Christian’s finger, it sprang forward. In two bounding leaps, it grabbed hold
of Abby’s face.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">“Ew,
get off!” Abby shrieked, swatting at it with shaking hands.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">Abby’s
foot caught on something—an exposed root, maybe—as she scrambled about. She
fell backward and crashed to the ground. The squirrel tumbled off of her, then Abby
pushed herself up and fled.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">“Find
the trail. Find the trail. Find the trail…” she wheezed as she plunged blindly
through the forest. Trees whipped her cheeks and tugged at her hood. While
ducking under an oversized branch, Abby chanced a glance over her shoulder. A
pair of red eyes bounced in the darkness as the horrifying little squeaker
bounded after her. She tried to scream, but only a gasp escaped her burning
lungs.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">Abby
burst from the trees into a narrow alley. At first she thought she had found
the main road, but she realized that the overgrown path she stood on had not
been used in decades. Desperation flooded over her. She wanted to sob. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">While
she deliberated on what to do, a chain of approaching squeaks and hisses echoed
from the forest. A ball of fur landed on the crown of her head. Abby gripped the
dirty little squirrel and hurled it as hard as she could into the woods. She
wasn’t ready to die, least of all to <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">that</i>.
Her friends would never let it go.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">Abby’s
feet took control. They turned left and sprinted along the moonlit road while
she screamed for help.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">For
a passing moment, Abby acknowledged that the idea of running from a squirrel—fangs
or not—was totally stupid, then blind panic overtook her again.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">Up
ahead, she saw the outline of a small building. A cabin, maybe, but it was too
dark to tell. With renewed vigor, Abby called out and moved her legs as fast as
they would carry her. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">Four
steps from the door, the squirrel tackled her from behind. Abby slammed into
the forest floor and pine needles pricked her cheeks. How could something so
small bring her down like that? Despite her backpack, it felt like she had been
rammed by a train.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">Just
as Abby thought her life was over, the little fur ball was gone. After waiting
a moment to see if it was some kind of a cruel trick, Abby forced herself to
roll over and peek through her protective arms. Relief flooded her weary body.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">“Christian!”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">He
stood a short distance away, under the shadow of a large oak. He lifted his
foot and stomped down on a small, shifting shadow. The sickening crunch penetrated
Abby’s ears and forced its way down to churn in her stomach.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">She
gulped. “Christian?”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">He
turned.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">Abby’s
breath caught. She couldn't move. Was this what shock felt like? </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">The
first time Abby had seen Christian, his gray eyes had captivated her. Abby hadn’t
been able to put her finger on what was so different about them, but they made
her swoon. Rumor had it that he never asked anyone out, so when Christian invited
her on a four-wheeling trip up the mountain, she had pounced at the chance
without a second thought. She was going on a date with the hottest guy in
school. She had even lied to her parents about staying at her best friend’s
house for the night.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">As
she stared into Christian’s glowing indigo eyes, Abby wished she hadn’t lied to
her mom. No one knew where she was, or the danger that threatened her.
Christian was taking slow teetering steps toward her with an open mouth, slack
and drooling. It was just like the movies. Unbelievably surreal.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">Abby
knew she should move, but she couldn’t—frozen by her date’s glowing eyes. Her lips
trembled as Christian lurched closer. When he stepped out from under the tree
and moonlight flooded over him, everything changed. He looked just as he always
had—gorgeous, smooth skin, dark hair, and gray <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">unglowing</i> eyes.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">She
exhaled. <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">I’m such a dork!</i> Her brain had
been playing tricks on her. It had to be from her low blood sugar. If only she had
eaten that trail mix. She looked Christian up and down, and her eyes rested on
his outstretched hand.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">One
finger was missing.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">“Take
my hand,” he said.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">“Are
you nuts?” Abby slid back against the building. “Stay away from me, you
inverted werewolf zombie freak!”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">Christian
dropped his hand. “Not bad,” he said with a slight nod, “but you forgot one very
important part. Can you hear that sound?”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">Abby
kept her eyes locked on Christian, but strained her ears. Nothing. Only silence.
“What you talking about, psycho?”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">With
an eerie chuckle, Christian sneered. Elongated incisors appeared from behind
his upper lip. “The hypnotic rhythm of blood pumping through your veins. What
am I,<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>you ask? A one-of-a-kind hybrid
dead set on enjoying his meal tonight.”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">Ignoring
Christian’s advancing step, Abby hurried into another question. “So you’re a
vampire, too, huh? Why aren’t you sparkling?”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">He
rolled his eyes and took another step forward.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">“Did
that squirrel do this to you?” Abby asked in desperation.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">Christian
paused. “Hardly. Believe it or not, that varmint was trying to save your life.”
He lifted up his mangled hand. “I used to have a magic ring that made me look
normal to mortals, but I seem to have misplaced it.” His sarcasm oozed off his
thick tongue. “Now I’m back to my good ol’ self. When I’m not lit under direct sun
or moonlight, my true form shows.”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">Christian
sidestepped under the dense branches of the oak tree. A hump bulged out of his
back as he slouched forward and gawked at her with a tilted head. “You like?”
he slobbered through a waterfall of drool.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">“Gross,”
Abby replied. She wanted to run as far away as possible, but couldn’t move no
matter how hard she tried. It was like Christian held her captive, compelling
her to stay with his glowing indigo eyes.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">“No
biggie,” Christian said with a shrug. “Won’t matter much in a minute anyway.”</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">He
made an ungainly advance toward her while staying in shadows and holding Abby’s
gaze. She was helpless. Her mind reeled as she reflected on the previous
fifteen years of her life. So much time wasted. So much left to do. Now it was
too late. She’d never see another sunrise.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">When
Christian was just a few steps away from Abby, another chilling crack filled
the silence. Her salivating adversary gaped over his shoulder and his eyes grew
wide. Abby followed his gaze. Another loud pop. Movement disturbed the shadows.
Was the poor squirrel Christian had stomped to death coming back to life? Abby
squinted. Yes, yes it was.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">She
turned back to Christian and smirked. “You better run, hybrid. That squirrel’s hip
bone just reconnected to its thigh bone. Won’t be long now before <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">it</i> makes <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">you</i> dinner.”</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">Christian
spun on his heel and fled as quick as a zombie, a limp arm dangling at his side
and one leg dragging behind. Abby couldn’t help but think of her younger
brother’s annoying martial arts videos as she watched the slow motion battle
between hybrid and weresquirrel—one trying to escape while the other popped
back into shape. She knew that if Christian reached the moonlight, he’d be out
of her life forever. She’d look like a total loser.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">Abby
chased after Christian, throwing rocks and poking him with a long stick, all
the while keeping a safe distance between them. She knew all about the
unmatched strength of a zombie… vampire… werewolf… thingy. Yeah, well, at least
she had a good hunch.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">“Stop
it!” Christian whined as he stumbled to the ground for the ump-teenth time.
“Cut it out, will ya?”</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">A
tiny shadow fell upon Christian’s prostrate body. With razor sharp claws, the
squirrel ripped Christian’s heart from his chest, smashed it to the ground like
a football, then leaped high into the air and stomped it repeatedly into the loose
soil until the heart stopped beating.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">Abby
collapsed to her knees and gazed upon her knight in shining fur. With a brief
twitch of its left eyelid, the squirrel dropped to its fours and skittered
across the clearing to Abby’s knee.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">“Look
at that,” Abby said as she scooped up her furry friend and kissed it on its
nose. “You’ve made a terrible mess of your claws.” She stroked its fur,
caressing its spine with her fingertips.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">The
squirrel gazed up at Abby through its long eyelashes. Abby returned its
red-eyed stare and breathed in the sweet aroma of pine nuts and cashews that
fluttered from the squirrel’s snout.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">She
planted a more affectionate kiss on its nose. Moist, but definitely not drippy.
Things were already way better than her previous date. “Got any plans for the
rest of your life, Bucky?” she asked with a sigh. Abby had never fallen so hard
for anyone before. She was in love with him, even though he was a weresquirrel.
It was irrevocable. Her heart nearly leaped from her chest as she dreamed of
their life together.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">The
squirrel sprang to the ground and pointed into the thick of the forest.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">“What
is it, Bucky?” Abby asked, rising to her feet.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">Bucky
took Abby by her shoelace and, with a gentleman’s care, led her forward. She
didn’t ask where they were going. She didn’t care anymore. As long as they were
together, that’s all that mattered.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">Time
ceased to exist as they strolled through the clouds. Days could have passed
without Abby’s knowledge, but they traveled only fifty yards before they
reached the clearing. Abby blinked at a roaring bonfire surrounded by hundreds
of weresquirrels. They were all dancing together as they squeaked and squawked a
harmonic chant. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">“You
brought me to your pack family?” Tears filled Abby’s eyes. She had been wanting
to take their relationship to the next level, but wasn’t sure how Bucky felt in
return. Relief flooded over her. Their relationship was moving fast, but it
felt so right. She knew he was the one. Nothing would ever come between them.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">Bucky
led her across the clearing and stood her in front of a fallen tree that had
been fashioned into a throne.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">“Did
you gnaw this just for me?” Abby asked as she lowered herself onto the seat.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">Bucky’s
nose twitched.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">“How
thoughtful.” Abby’s cheeks flushed as her hand methodically traced the chewed
grains of her pine chair. “So now what?”</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">Bucky
bounded up the fallen trunk and placed a crown of acorns on Abby’s head. The
weresquirrel pack moved their celebration in front of her. Out of their midst
flew a bag of trail mix, which landed directly on her lap.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">Abby
smiled as she reached into the bag and popped a couple almonds into her mouth.
“Mmm,” she moaned. “That’s what I’m talking about.”</span></div>
Terron Jameshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03508184587009172827noreply@blogger.com0