Our World, Our Stories

TheSperlingChroniclesBanner-FINALHumans love stories.  We exist in stories.  That is why the great teachers like Buddha and Jesus are still revered by the masses. They taught through storytelling, vivid parables and examples of how life should be lived. Their stories resonate within our souls. Stories. They are timeless and are continually seeding our minds with worry or hope or faith, dependent on your life’s situation.

Think about it. You are always telling yourself or someone else a story. Other people are always telling you a story as well. For instance, people listen to the office gossiper because that person is so good at relating a story, even if it’s detrimental. How do you think President Obama was elected or even Trump?  President Obama seeded us with stories and visions of a better progressive world. Trump planted the world with stories of fear. He had his followers envisioning the past as the good old days. Let’s face it, there is never a time when we are not amid a storyline, one that has happened, one we are creating, one that we are planning, or one that we are fantasizing about. Isn’t this why we have become a society of television watchers. We are hooked on stories. I admit I am a binge-watcher. There are only a few shows that I worry about seeing as they air anymore. I’d rather watch the whole season at once for the story. I want the entire story from beginning to end, like reading a book or a series of books. I must have it all.

As a writer who loves to read books for stories as much as she likes to watch television, I know the value of all stories is the word. The words that tell the stories evoke emotion and possible action. What words are creating your stories today?

Dilsa Saunders Bailey is an independent author who has not only self-published three novels and a non-fiction book; she has spent most of her medical services career writing policies, bylaws, operations manuals, and more over the last 27 years. Dilsa is now coaching writers through the self-publishing journey and helping them to set up their businesses using their books as a marketing tool to build their platforms. If you want to learn more about how she can help you, contact her at dilsa@simplydilsa.com or join her blog below to keep up to date with her books and seminars.

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Three Trash Bags, A Rain Poncho, and a Warm Blanket…How to Survive the Seabreeze Jazz Festival

As I sit here listening to Seduction by Boney James, I am reminiscing about my fourth trip to the Seabreeze Jazz Festival. As usual, the lineup was fantastic, Boney James, Brian Culbertson, Eric Darius, and the list goes on and on. If you have never been, you need to put it on your bucket list. It was four full, fabulous days of 29 of the top jazz musicians and R&B artists in the world. Some of which performed so intensely, you could not stay seated in your chairs. Your body demanded that you move with the music. And as always, there is one artist that makes me fall deeply in love with their style, Damien Escobar. I had heard his music before, but his performance was intense. Yep, I was on my feet during most of his show. I would pay to see him again. All of the acts were great; one faltered a little bit. I won’t mention her name, but if you were there, you know what was up. I can only wish whatever she is dealing with; she can overcome.
20180422_144518So what’s up with the trash bags? It seems never to fail; rain wants to attend the show, too. And this year, it didn’t just rain, it was cold. But, my crew of jazz aficionados and I were prepared. Thought I would share some of the tricks. If you are sports fans or regular music fest folks, you probably have a set of tools you already use. But, these I find irreplaceable. Yep, trash bags, the large black or green ones. I say take three. Here’s what to do with them. Put one on the back of your chair. Tie it down. It got windy out there Sunday. The rain was blowing sideways. It wasn’t playing. Put the second bag on the seat of your chair. Yes, chair. At the jazz fest, we had chairs. It’s easier to rent than to lug, but you can carry a little canvas in a bag. It’s up to you. Don’t forget your blanket for the cooler nights and days. The rain and the chill will try to sneak in and try to disrupt your good time.
What do with the third bag? Well, this is key. Wrap your blanket around you, pull your poncho over your head and put your legs in the third bag. Yep. You are thoroughly covered and waterproof. Sit back, bounce in your seat, tell the rain and the chill that you are not paying them any attention. It’s all about the music and the beautiful energy that is so obvious throughout the crowd. I wish all venues were as peaceful and soothing as a jazz festival. Everybody there is just there to groove, relax to the sounds of the soulful instruments played by artists who put their entire soul into every note. You can almost see their spirits traveling around touching each and every one in the audience. There is nothing like it. This year marked the 20th Anniversary of the Seabreeze Jazz Festival. Kudos to the producers. My crew and I will be back next year. Rain, shine, or wind chill.
Dilsa Saunders Bailey, the author of The Sperling Chronicles and A Comprehensive Guide to Finding the Right Doctor, loves to blog as “simplydilsa,” a woman who loves to write out loud. The third novel in The Sperling Chronicles, No Tears for Dead Men, was released on Amazon May 5, 2018. Buy it Now.

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Write What You Know

TSCDTA-StandingKALINA HUGGED HER pillow even tighter as sunlight invaded the darkness of her room. She buried her face in it to hold onto the peace that had enveloped her before the bright intrusion of the spring morning. The sun’s warm rays streamed through her lace curtains creating psychedelic patterns on her pale blue wall, teasing her to get up and get going. It was Sunday and, as usual, her day was already loaded with activity. She wished she could be like many of her friends who didn’t have to get up and go to church every Sunday.
Above is the first paragraph in my first book, Dreams Thrown Away. It’s a prime example of writing what you know. Not every detail, of course, but what you know is what you can translate into emotional and visual manifestation on a page. Was this me in the first paragraph? Was this me in my first book? Partially, yes. Kalina Denise Harris (Kali) shares some of my characteristics, but let’s not get confused. Kali’s parents were a Baptist minister and a choir director. She had grown up in the church, so had I. My grandparents were my primary caregivers and they were very active in the church. They were so involved I felt that I only lived in one of three places, home, school, and church.
Are you with me on this? How many of you who grew up in a Southern Baptist church and had friends who didn’t have to be in church every Sunday? Call me a heathen, but my hand just shot up, high. As I said, I lived in one of three places and church was a big chunk of my existence. I can recall being in church, literally, all day long. My grandfather was a deacon and custodian at the church. He had to get there early to turn on the heat or the fans, etc. So we were at church before anyone else arrived. After that, Sunday School would start, and it would always run over. Shortly after Sunday School, there was a prayer meeting or a pre-meeting of some sort before regular service. That would last almost an hour and then, then, then there was the service that could run from two to three hours. Whew!!! Some of you can relate, I know.
If that wasn’t enough, there were other reasons to go to church during the week regularly, choir practice, deacon meetings, and custodial duties are what I remember off the top of my head. I am sure there were more, and I have filed them away in my memory. I still have visions of that church and the feeling of begrudgingly walking into it. To make matters worse, I know I shouldn’t complain, but once a year there was the weeklong revival where there were two services and two prayer meetings on the first Sunday of August, then there were prayer meetings and services Monday through Friday. Whew, you couldn’t wait until Saturday, but the next Sunday morning came quickly.
Yes, I lived in the church until I became a teenager and my grandparents got tired of the struggle. Happily, I became one of those friends who didn’t have to get out of bed so early, anyway, on Sunday morning. Not all of it was bad; I did enjoy my friends and the family I made there. Sometimes I miss that familiar feeling, but these days I don’t have to wonder about friends who don’t go to church. I’m not there every Sunday myself, and I am okay with that.
Dilsa Saunders Bailey is an independent author who has not only self-published three novels and a non-fiction book; she has spent most of her medical services career writing policies, bylaws, operations manuals, and more over the last 27 years. Dilsa is now coaching writers through the self-publishing journey and helping them to set up their businesses using their books as a marketing tool to build their platforms. If you want to learn more about how she can help you, contact her at dilsa@simplydilsa.com or join her blog below to keep up to date with her books and seminars.

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