Monthly Archives: November 2012

The Maestro and the child

After a long journey through NaNo land, I am watching as others cram to finish, to push the final leg, and am reminded of a tale that was shared with me long, long ago.  I do not know the original author, nor am I certain I will tell it as well as it is from memory now, though I’m certain to have the original somewhere.  I hope that it instills the same motivation and powerful awareness of the power you hold within you.

A mother, frustrated with her young son for his apparent lax attitude toward his lessons and practice took him to the concert hall.  The Maestro was giving a concert and she hoped that he would take inspiration from seeing someone so accomplished.  As they walked down the aisle to their seats, she cautioned him to remember his manners, not fidget in his seat, and to be on his best behavior.  The crowd was all decked out in the evening finery, men in coat tails and women in gowns bedecked in jewels.  This was a momentous night.  Sitting uncomfortably, trying not to fidget, looking around at all of the adults and taking in the noise of the crowd his young eyes fixed on the stage and the immense black grand piano sitting at the center.  As his mother turned to converse with those around their seats, he was fascinated.  Fixated.  Drawn and compelled.  He just had to know.  Before anyone was the wiser as no one was watching him, he quietly slipped from his seat and followed the gravitational pull of the beautiful instrument that called him.  Making his way onto the stage he walked carefully, doing nothing to break the spell.  Sitting up on the bench, his feet could not touch the floor or the pedals, but the circle was complete when he laid his hands on the keys.  Being rather averse to practicing he knew nothing by heart, save Chopsticks, and so he began plucking out the simple tune.  The hall slowly stilled as the guests in the audience turned toward the stage, a pulsing shock as they discovered the boy, and then a barrage of noise as they exclaimed their outrage.
“Get that child off the stage.  How dare he touch The Maestro’s instrument.  WHO brought a disrespectful child here?”  And so on.
The Maestro backstage, heard the commotion, quickly ascertained what was happening, clicked his cuff links and walked briskly onto the stage amid the commotion, quieting the patrons gently with his hands.  As he reached the piano and the small boy sitting there he leaned over him and said,

“Don’t stop.  Keep going.  Whatever you do, don’t stop.”
The boy continued playing while The Maestro leaned over him and then sat beside him, improvising a counter melody to the simple Chopsticks.  Over an over that night they played, not the program as stated, but an improvisation on Chopsticks.  At the end of the evening The Maestro thanked the boy for his assistance and handed him off with a few quiet words to a stunned mother.

Now, I am not The Maestro, but I say to all of you who are remiss in your lessons and out of practice in your craft, or just a little behind, a bit frustrated with the journey ahead, still dreaming, or well on your way to a new success…

Don’t stop.  Keep going.  Whatever you do, don’t stop.  Keep dreaming.  Keep reaching.  Find the magic and share.


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Did you miss me?

Even though it’s only been a few short weeks, it feels like an eternity since I was here.  NaNoWriMo is verified and I’m hip deep in several other projects.  Racing the Rip-tide was a fun write and really still has so far to go with editing and fleshing it out.  I wrote, but I think I zombie wrote for so much of it makes little sense in places.  I have Flash Fiction for December for Storytime Trysts that I’m working on and ANYONE who wants to take a crack at Flash there are still several spots available.  Check out my facebook page (!/AbyrneMostynWordEnthusiast) for the contact person to get your piece in.  The Red Queen, the sequel to Swingers is bearing down hard on my dreams and interrupting the writing on Oracle which still has so much work to be done.  All in all, NaNo was a bump in the writing process.

Detours seem to abound in my world of late, and characters seem to be vying for the foreground pushing and shoving to get there.  Ite and Margaret had a knock down drag out the other day, it was intense waiting to see which notebook I needed.  I cannot express the mental anguish at changing up mid-stride.  I always thought as an author that you decided, and sat down and wrote a book.  For me, lately anyway, I sit down to write, I might even sit down with a plan, and then somewhere in the implementation phase when I have the pen to page everything changes and I’m the scribe telling the story as someone else whispers it to me.  I am not the master moving the characters through their lives and deciding where they are going.  It is as if they say to me,

      “Silly Author…you are the vehicle to get our tale to the masses.  You are not god.  You are the being that can manipulate the pen.  Thrive in your purpose.” 

Grudgingly I wait for the words to come and hope I have the right notebook nearby when they spill forth. 
Tomorrow is Thursday, and THANKSGIVING…how apropos a day of thankfulness.  I hope everyone has more to be thankful for than they can enumerate.  If you find that you hit a lull however, my gift to you is SWINGERS absolutely free Thursday and Friday for those who want a reason to stay home.  😉

Brightest Blessings.


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