Author: Barbara Hightower

I am an aspiring writer/novelist. I am a pretend chef. I am a gift. I am an avid reader. I am special. I am perfect. I am a music junkie. I am Diet Pepsi lover. I am a water activist. I am an old soul. I am a lover of a hand written note. I am a pen thief. I am a sticky pad addict. I am everything I want to be. I am in love. I am me.

Heroic : My 5 Year Old Self.

Daily Prompt:

When you were five years old, who was your hero? What do you think of that person today?

When I think back on being younger most of it is a blur.  Whether I it’s because I slept away the years or because it just simply faded, I rarely remember a lot of memories.  But there is one thing I’ll never forget, even when I think back on my five year old self, my hero.  There was always that one person in my life that made everything make sense.  When I needed a shoulder to cry on they were always there and held my hand when I needed it.  

My mother.

Over the course of my life my five year old self hero just became stronger.  Everything she did I wanted to be there.  I can remember, (this wasn’t at five more like fifteen) that she’d go to work and I’d literally go with her.  Many days sitting around her place of employment just to spend time with her.  The days I decided to stay home we’d call each other throughout the day.  

At fifteen I lost my hero.  We buried the only person in my life, at the time, that meant more to me than anything else.  I placed her in the ground, exactly like she wanted to be.  We left her in the ground nearly six hours away from where I live today and I let go of my hero & best friend.  

Today I have often wondered if we would have had the normal “mother/daughter” fights that people go through.  If her and I would have stayed close or I would have decided that we were too close and begin backing off.  I have often wondered if her and I would still be talking, like we did then, and spend as much time together.  Would I still think so high of her and her thoughts on how I should live my life, or would I think she butts in too much and start backing away?  

I try and live my life the way she always wanted.  Yes, I have had my stray moments.  (Dropping out of high school.  Not going to college until I was 23 years old & then flunking out of my fourth semester because I was overwhelmed.  An emotional breakdown before I was 30.)  I am pretty sure that I am nowhere near what she always wanted for me by the age of twenty-six.  I’m working on that.    

But there are small things.  Tiny things she always put in my head that I have chosen to live life by.  Mostly, treat people the way I want to be treated, (yes, my mother was more religious than me).  But that is by far one of the best things to ever teach your child while raising them.  Never settle in life for the smaller things.  Always touch stars rather than a light bulb just because it’s easier. (I think she is half the reason I’m still single.  I don’t want to ‘settle’.  I want love & everything, or nothing at all.)

My hero wanted the best for me.  Wanted to give me everything the world would let me have.  But I wonder sometimes if some of the choices I’ve made in my life if she’d be disappointed.  Is she looking down on me thinking how off track I’ve gotten.  The day I got my first tattoo – did she shake her head?  The day I got my second tattoo – did she sigh?  The day I declared a life of loneliness, rather than settling for just anything – did she mutter cuss words?  When I flunked out of college – was she disappointed? 

I guess sometimes you just have to live life without knowing everything.  For me, this is the one thing that I’ll never know.  But I will live my life the way she wanted even with the days I decide to trip up a little and have to regain my footing.  I know that I will have her on my side, even if she isn’t here with me physically.  For me, that’s enough to keep going.

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My mom & me in Florida; 2003.

I don’t have writer’s block.

I don't have writer's block.

At least I wish I could say that – but sadly, I can’t. My block is so bad this round I can’t write, read, or even jot down a shopping list. I sit around day in and down out thinking about my novel that I didn’t finish when I wanted, but cannot seem to write a word.

Honestly, how hard is it to jot down a shopping list? Eggs. Butter. Milk. Bread. Same thing every time I get groceries. But now, nothing. It’s like my brain has shut down and unable to be restarted.

I have been staring at a letter I have wanted to write for nearly a month now and all I do is write down the date & time, then nothing. A book I have been waiting a year to read, “Gabriel’s Redemption” by Sylvian Reynard, – I have read one chapter.

I really need to fix the issue I have.

Happy New Year!

Happy New Year!

Normally people write their year in review. However, I didn’t do anything this year that is worth talking about. So we’ll, instead, go this route. I’m going to give myself two things I’d like to accomplish this year.

1. Finish the first draft – if not more – of my novel.
2. Lose another 50 to 80 pounds.

Maybe, just maybe, I will actually do one or both. We’ll see. I will let y’all know December 31, 2014. Until then…

The Day Inspiration Struck Me ::

Daily Prompt : 

Tell us about a time you’d been trying to solve a knotty problem — maybe it was an interpersonal problem, a life problem, a big ol’ problem — and you had a moment of clarity when the solution appeared to you, as though you were struck by lightening.

First I wouldn’t say it was a problem but I can remember a moment in 2012 when I was hit by “lightning”.  Since I was 19, when I decided I wanted to write, I had been trying to figure out what I wanted to write a novel over.  I have had many idea’s through the last few years and was never able to put the thoughts onto paper.  In 2012 I was a step away from deciding that maybe – maybe – I am not supposed to write and was nearly ready to stop trying.

November 30, 2012 (yes, I can remember the date & place) I was sitting on my brothers couch visiting him and his wife when I felt like something hit me with what I was missing to finally write a novel.  The story played through my mind like a movie.  Frame by frame – perfectly.  After finally coming back to reality I quickly left – not sure that I even said bye. I took off home (running across the street, I didn’t have far to go) and sat down at my laptop and for six hours, into December 1st, I wrote out the plan of the story.  How it would start, what would happen throughout it, and how it would end.   When I finished the outline I felt like I had accomplished something without actually accomplishing anything.  I knew, from that day on, I’d have a rocky path ahead of me.  Everyone’s first book is usually a long process and it can take a couple years.  

I made myself a goal – one I sadly didn’t meet – that I would be completely done with the first draft a year after I started writing the book.  I’m not sure if that was unrealistic, but I wanted that.  However, now that it’s been a year and I am still working on the first draft I have accepted that.  Not saying I honestly like it, but I’m okay with it.  I suppose you cannot rush greatness!  Eh.  

Right now as I sit here typing this I have wrote the beginning and the end.  The middle is giving me problems.  My sandwich isn’t coming together very well – I am missing the bologna.  Right now I have a dry cheese sandwich and I’m needing the rest.  I’m on chapter twelve and I’m stuck.  But I will finish this book.  I have faith in myself.  Especially now that I have accepted and decided that I need to write this for myself and not everyone else.  This book is for me.

If You’re Reading This!

Daily Prompt: 

You are the first astronaut to arrive on a new, uncharted planet. Write the note that you leave to those who come after you.

If you’re reading this I finally got off of this planet.  Crashing sucks!

So here I sit writing a quick letter.  Thank God I’m a writer & I actually carry it with me.  I wanted to let someone know what’s it like on this planet so you’re prepared.

First, I didn’t even realize it was real.  I’ve heard stories.  But here it is.  Water.  Land.  Beautiful.  It’s great here.  A part of me didn’t want to leave, but I miss family.  Thinking about coming back.

It’s quiet here without anyone around.  However, all the animals are great.  Friendly.  It’s perfect if you’re not a people person.  It’s very green.  I’m sure this is what Earth looked like before people.  Before houses and roads.  I hope you like to walk.  There are not roads or vehicles.  There are no houses – I hope you can build a fort.

I have never witnessed clear water like this planet.  So clear I could see straight through to the bottom.  It’s great.  A taste I have never had splash across my taste buds.  Drink it!  You’ll see.

Signed – WhyHasn’tSomeoneFoundThisPlanet

Act of Kindness.

Daily Prompt :

Tell us about the time when you performed a secret random act of kindness — where the recipient of your kindness never found out about your good deed. How did the deed go down?

I sat here and thought about this prompt for a while.  Mostly wondering if there was anything I ever did without the other person knowing.  And I’m not sure I have.  I don’t believe I have ever “secretly” done a good did.

I choose to live my life in a way where I am hoping that at least one person is happier.  Letting people cross the street by holding up a line of cars.  Leaving a quarter on a basket at Aldi’s (since you have to pay a quarter to use their basket).  Saying hi to strangers.  Smiling even when deep inside of me I’m crying.  Giving to people anything I can give to them without leaving me on the street (because it’s not worth that.  Honestly. *that’s me being yay me!*)

I’m the one who does the small things in life.  Leaving notes for people inside of books at libraries or book stores.

I’m saddened, however, to know that I have never done anything without someone knowing I did it.  Maybe I need to take a hard look at myself and start over.

Dear Santa,

This year I don’t find myself wanting much.  Is “needing” a better word to use?  

I wanted to apologize for not writing as much as I should.  Even as young child, I always seemed to have other things to do.  I never seemed to write.  I feel horrible about that.  

Today I sit at my laptop and I write you a letter.  A letter basically saying I haven’t been ‘perfect’, but who has?  We all have our things that tear us away from what we want to be.  Words we choose to use.  Actions.  Dreams.  

We start every year with a resolution saying how we will be better to people than the year before.  But we don’t.  We never seem to do any better, no matter how hard we try.  This year I want to.  I want to write a letter to you next year at the time telling you all of the great things I chose to do instead of walking away.  Hiding and staying quiet.

This year, however, Santa I don’t deserve anything.  I haven’t lived up to the life that a person should.  I haven’t done anything great and I keep deciding to do the complete opposite of what I truly want to do.

Hopefully next year,

Sincerely,
Barbara

(Also, yes, I know that you know what my dream was about last night.  I can’t control those.  You should dream like that more often.  Maybe you wouldn’t eat so many cookies.)