Curly-Qs and Jesus Clues
My new creation is a coloring book. Of all things--my mind just went off the rails one day and I started drawing. I have a slightly primitive style but it works well with curly-qs. And including the words of Jesus from the Book of Matthew made it even more enjoyable. I devinitely believe that I was inspired! It's available in 8 1/2 by 11" paperback format on CreateSpace and will soon be available on Amazon.com and other etailers.
Here's the CreateSpace link:
Book One of The LUMIN Project
My newest T. Lynn Odom book is a Young Adult sci-fi tale, the first of a trilogy that features a LUMIN. What's a LUMIN? Check it out!
Being in a coma doesn’t stop David Griffen from living life to the fullest. His new hard light body functions like his paralyzed human one—only better. David can shape-shift and fly. He has extraordinary hearing and eyesight. He can light up the dark. And his sense of right and wrong—well, if you need a hero, this sixteen-year old is your guy. Unfortunately, every hero attracts a villain.
Sigwald Royle is hunting the LUMINs that escaped from his lab, but not because he wants them to thrive. No, he has darker plans for the LUMINs. Can David avoid capture and remain hidden in the small town of Firefall, Texas? If they learn the truth about his unique body, will his new friends at Firefall High School accept him as one of their own, or will Cassie and the others run from him? Worst of all, if Sigwald captures David, will he shut off his light forever? In The Brightening, David Griffen intends to learn what being a teenager is all about…but only if he can survive.
Get it today only on Amazon at http://tinyurl.com/nhau8sh
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The siege of the Alamo began 180 years ago, on February 23, 1836, and the story of that event still fills the hearts of Texas—and many others—today. In fact, the Alamo is the most visited tourist site in Texas. It’s really a small place, tucked into the center of a bustling city. So why do people from all over the world flock to it?
They come because of the approximately two hundred men—Anglo as well as Hispanic—who stood for 13 days against a force of about 1500 Mexican soldiers. They come because those Defenders knew they were likely to die and yet continued to stand. They come to pay tribute to men who refused to give in to unjust laws and the changing whims of a cruel dictator. They come because those brave men died fighting for freedom. They come because the story is one of courage and heart and heartache.
After the battle, a few people were allowed to leave the Alamo, to spread a story that was supposed to be one of defeat. The story was supposed to intimidate the rebels and bring the revolution to an abrupt end. But the ending to those 13 days was something so much more than a defeat. The Defenders—no matter their personal backgrounds—put their lives on the line. They stood for liberty. They stood for justice. Their courage has been matched by few men or women before or since.
The names of those Defenders were immortalized as soon as the torch lit their remains. The smoke from their mass pyre wafted over Texas—enraging and inspiring—and out into the world and into Time.
Remember the Alamo. Tell your children the story.
They stood. Would you?
So it’s the morning after Super Bowl 50. I’m on my way to work. It’s early, still dark. The light at the next intersection turns yellow. I hit the gas, thinking I have enough time to make it through. A voice in my head—really clear—says “Don’t.” I hit my brake. No one behind me, only a pickup truck to my left, and we both stop safely. Did I imagine the voice? Most people would say I did. But I’ve been driving in heavy Houston traffic for a while now and I’ve come to rely on whispered instructions inside my head. Sitting there, I study this newly—and poorly—reconstructed intersection. The lights for the cross street are too far from their corners and are poorly timed. Waiting, I’m looking around. BANG!
My eyes jerk forward. Two cars have hit each other on the cross street, somehow back-to-back (weird, I know—maybe it was a sideswipe as they passed each other in opposite directions). They bounce apart, facing away from each other, one settling under the overpass, the other across the far right lane of my street (of which there are four lanes). I sit there, wondering what just happened and what I should do. I figure they’d have hit me if I had run that yellow light. Thank You, God, for stopping me. Yep, I’m sure that was Your voice.
I finally decide that where I am, it’s smarter to just go on when the light changes. There are already at least 2 lanes of traffic that are blocked (mine is not)—someone there will see to the drivers of the wrecked cars. My light turns green, I drive slowly forward along with the pickup on my left. I’m watching the debris in the road when the wrecked car on my right starts to back up toward me. I speed up to get out of its way. BANG! The pickup driving in the lane to my left jolts in my direction. The wrecked car under the overpass has apparently tried to back up, too, and it hit the pickup! I barely escape getting hit by the pickup and continue through the intersection, praying in gratitude for the Voice in my head and the angel that got between me and that pickup truck.
About 3 miles more, driving the curvy part of the road, no one to my left, another pickup truck driving two lanes to my right. I see a flash of white, look forward and to the right. Yet another truck—this one pulling a trailer—is angled across the two right lanes. Split second thoughts: Is it trying to pull into a driveway and can’t make it? Is it trying to pull out? Is that a guy standing behind the trailer, waving a white handkerchief?!?
Suddenly the pickup two lanes to my right jerks in my direction to miss hitting the guy standing behind the trailer. Out of the corner of my eye, I see the other car headlights hit the guy. Do they have time to move to the right without hitting another car? Can the guy dive out of the way? Pay attention to the curves in the road, don’t look back to see if some other car hit the guy and pinned him against that trailer.
Deep breaths. Slow breaths. Thank You again, O LORD. Slowing down, watching every car around me, suspicious that their drivers stayed up too late for the game. How many of them are too sleepy to drive? How many aren’t paying attention? What other foolish situations lie ahead? But God has me in His hands. I’m safe.
Fifteen minutes later, I make it to the office safe and sound, if a little stressed. What’s the lesson? Slow down, stay alert, get plenty of sleep and listen to that Voice in your head. Give the glory to God because He’s the only reason I make it here and back again safely every day. I’m sure of it. Do any of you hear a Voice in your head that speaks at just the right time?
Hard light is a concept that has been around for a long time, both in fiction and in real science. Various characters have used hard light to create weapons, vehicles and other objects. Real life hard light technology lags behind imaginary life but research is being conducted in creating 3D structures made from light. Just imagine the advances that will spring from a successful venture into this fascinating science.
In my book, The Brightening, I've created a character that uses hard light technology to break out of the boundaries of the coma that locked him in dark silence at the age of 3. Now 16, David Griffen not only can generate a hard light body for himself but he can fly, shape-shift and illuminate the dark. New to life, new to Firefall, Texas and new to high school, David tries to fit in.
But in the world of the imagination, every hero attracts a villain. In David's case, that villain is the heir to the Royle Corporation--a scientific firm that originated the LUMIN Project that gave David life. And that heir wants his technology back, even though he personally had nothing to do with it--in fact, he wants to destroy the technology and any LUMINs that have successfully generated a light form. David thought high school was tough--staying alive will be even tougher.
Procrastination can become a way of life. Stop putting things off. Pick the thing you least want to do and just get it done. The weight that comes off your shoulders will be such a relief that you will feel the urge to do other things. Organize that cluttered corner in your garage and you may find yourself cleaning out the whole space. That big report that’s sitting in your to-do queue? Draft it. Getting part of it done may spur you to finish it. That new book that just won’t gel in your mind…pick one element such as a character name or a setting and write it down. Words will start to flow.
Today I wrote this blog. What will you do tomorrow?
Do you ever feel an urge to do a specific thing even though logic and past experience tell you it might not be smart? But you follow the urge and do the thing anyway?
Well, I saw a guy doing patch work on my next-door neighbor’s driveway yesterday, and I thought it would be nice if he came over and gave me an estimate on fixing a bad spot in our concrete. Sure enough, about noon, he knocked on the door and started giving me his sales pitch. Now, I don’t usually answer the door to anyone I don’t know. But my adult children were home, so I felt safe enough. Besides, I’d put it out there in the ether, hadn’t I?
He was a real talkative guy, looked non-threatening (hey, I live in the big city), and he seemed to know what he was talking about. He offered to fix a buckled spot in our driveway for $250.00, then talked himself down to $200.00. Hey, I thought his first offer was a good deal but he didn’t give me a chance to accept it.
Here’s where logic and past experience reared their heads. He asked me for sixty bucks to buy the concrete, then he’d return in a couple of hours to do the job. He wanted to grab lunch and wash his truck before the concrete dust from the previous job did any damage. I hesitated to hand over cash to this guy I didn’t know, but he kept talking and before long I knew a good part of his life’s story—which was very interesting and certainly made me feel better about mine.
He seemed honest, I needed the driveway fixed, his story was entertaining, and that price was a good one—provided he wasn’t a fast talker who really planned to skip out with my sixty bucks. I felt that urge to trust him—and hubby was working so he wasn’t around to talk me out of it. So I handed over the cash. Regret began to seep in as his old truck disappeared around the corner, and I found myself watching for his return for the next couple of hours. Had I been taken by one of those gypsy repairmen? I knew he’d done actual work next door, but that patch job was nowhere near as big as mine, and I figured the one-hundred degree temperature of the afternoon was enough to convince anyone to take the sixty bucks and run.
But something kept telling me I’d done the right thing…that even if the guy was a con man, his old truck told me that he needed the sixty bucks more than I did. Not that we have money to spare—we might even be late with our next credit card payment for the first time in years—but I try to look for that silver lining whenever I can. And if being ripped off for sixty bucks was the price to pay to help someone who really needed it (yes, I know he could have just been a criminal), then so be it.
Well, I won’t lie. I was relieved when his old truck backed into my driveway and he got right to work without even knocking on the door. As soon as my son told me the guy was here, I went outside to greet him. His truck bed was full of bags of concrete and he was already breaking up the old buckled driveway. We chatted a minute then I let him get to work. Two hours later, he was done. Thirty minutes after that—yes, he had more stories to tell—I handed him the $140.00 I owed him, plus another fifty. (I’d begun to suspect he was living in his truck with his pet cat.) He hugged me, blessed me, told a few more stories, then promised to come back this morning to haul off the old chunks of concrete (the dump had closed by then).
By mid-morning today, I thought he’d changed his mind about coming back to haul off the old concrete chunks. So hubby and number-one son used some of the big chunks to make a path in part of our front yard, while I used some of the smaller ones to ring the gardenia shrub. Before we finished, the concrete guy showed up. He thanked us for leaving him with so few chunks to haul away, loaded his truck and then swept the driveway pretty clean—telling stories all the while. This time, hubby enjoyed the entertainment, too. And the concrete guy gave us some tips on how to repair some of the other cracks in the driveway on the cheap. He even quoted us a great price to do it for us and left us his number in case we decide to use him again. We also learned that he was living in his truck most nights but he used the extra fifty I gave him yesterday to get an air conditioned motel room for him and his cat. I felt good, hubby felt good…so did the concrete guy and his cat. And my driveway was fixed.
Moral of the story—trust that little urge that goes against logic and experience now and then. It might be right on, and you might just feel a little better about the world and the people in it.