Black Friday

Just the name sounds rather ominous, as if something awful is about to happen and if you’ve ever worked retail it is! Too often rude customers converge on the stores with the best sales like a swarm of locusts leaving destruction in their wake. I speak with the voice of experience, I worked retail; Black Friday leaves many of us shaking in our Sketchers. I was nearly plowed down by a woman with a shopping cart and the wonderfully kind words; “Get the hell out of my way!” as I attempted to restock the card department, my job at the time. I also came out after work to find my brand new truck scratched all along the passenger’s side by a shopping cart and I was parked out in DFE. Nope, never again! I made a solemn vow to myself not only to get out of that retail environment, but to never participate in the overly hyped event. I never have and I never will.

The day after our USA Thanksgiving in my house is “Transition Friday” instead. It is the day I finish the Turkey Day clean up if necessary, pack up all the Autumn decorations for another year, and begin decorating for the Winter holidays. Away with the leafy prints and pumpkins; it’s time for the holly, poinsettia, and pine.  

I grew up in the Detroit area; a place where Santa arrived (on his sleigh pulled by all his famous reindeer including Rudolf) as the final float in the annual Thanksgiving Day parade. The Mayor gave Santa the key to the hearts of all the boys and girls and that was the arrival of the entire holiday season, not a moment before! At least not in our house. The parade just celebrated its 86th year and is one of the oldest parades in the country, so this had become a serious family tradition even when I was little.

My mother worked for J.L.Hudson back in the 1930’s and actually marched as a Pilgrim in the parade, she froze. My father nearly lost a cousin to pneumonia after a brutally cold Thanksgiving his entire family stood on the sidelines to watch when he was a boy. We watched the parade on TV, from the warmth and safety of our living room. I eventually had my own parade experiences of riding on a float and standing on the curb to watch while living in a small town; that’s been enough for me.

So don’t expect to find me up well before the butt crack of dawn, circling parking lots for a space, battling rapid shoppers for the last super toy, or standing in mile long check out lanes. No way! I won’t even shop on line during the after Thanksgiving rush. My family members have love in our hearts 24/7 and 365 days a year, we don’t need decadent over spending to show we care. We may not have a lot, but we are thankful for all we do have and for each other.

Instead you can picture me kicked back with my feet up, sipping an extra cup of Folger’s and working hard to finish my novel for NaNoWriMo; there’s only one more week to get to the 50,000 words in 30 days mark and I’m going to make it. I have leftovers to sustain me!

 I’ll also be decking the halls with paper holly, switching out the throw pillow covers, table cloths and candles, getting down the holiday Corelle, and listening to Circle of Joy by Lisa Lynn. Happy Holidays everyone!

Summer of 2012

Summer was hot and seemingly endless in SE Michigan. However it was also very interesting.

I finally had the privilege of seeing my first Woodward Avenue Dream Cruise. There were thousands of classic cars and motorcycles "Cruising" right past my apartment. It was really something to see and a bit loud as DJs spun the tunes of the Muscle Car era, and engines revved at the traffic light below me. Old mixed with new all week long and every red light was a sight to behold.

I sat by my window and watched as the cars gathered at the lights. Fascinated by the variety and color. We weren't afraid of color back then, in fact the colors we chose made a statement about who we were just as much as the make, model and engine size. 

I grew up during the muscle car era, and would not have missed the Dream Cruise for the world. Back then I drove a 1970 Chevrolet Rally Sport Camero in Daytona yellow with a stock 307 cubic inch engine. Yellow was not my choice, I wanted the blue SS 396 with the white racing stripes, but Dad was cosigning the loan he wouldn't have anything to do with that car. I just kept telling myself, next time. Sadly 1970 marked the end of high performance straight off the assembly line as emission controls went on the following year. In those days I worked in the factory, took art classes and used to cruise on Telegraph Road with my friends. We thought those times would last forever but life changed for us all.

The summer heat continued well into September and life on Woodward Avenue brought yet more excitement as a movie crew came to shoot at Saint Vincent de Paul Catholic Church across the way. I heard a soft boom sound and looked out as a fireball rose out of the street! Three of the four lanes on northbound Woodward were closed, traffic was diverted, the church parking lot and half of the road was filled with semis, trailers, and heavy equipment. It took me three tries, but I captured what I'd seen on what turned out to be the final take. Here you can see the rain machine and the fireball as that final take was being shot. Who knew life could be so exciting.

Over the years I have come to understand life truly is something to live, to enjoy and to write about. I've learned to slow the pace and cherish the ride. After all what they say is true; it's the journey not the destination, even if you believe in reincarnation.

Wherever you are and wherever you roam I hope you had a great summer too!  

Following your dream...

Strange name for a blog, right? Well let me introduce myself...I am J. Delaney Hansen; novelist and  artist. I live in the city of Pontiac in South East Michigan on the ninth floor of a suburban high rise so my view of the world is From Nine Floors Up. I'm a mother of two grown daughters and grandmother of six. A fifty-eight year old digital typesetter and graphic artist forced into retirement early by the economy and numerous chronic health conditions including arthritis, COPD, type 2 diabetes and carpal tunnel syndrome. I love nature, indoor gardening and writing. I truly love to write.

I have dreamed of being a novelist nearly all my life. I say nearly because there have been times the dream was clouded by the pursuit of other dreams. (Yes, you are allowed to have more than one, more on that later.) My first memory of wanting to write comes from very early childhood. I have actually found Little Golden Books in my mother's basement with my scribbles in them that keyed a memory of sitting in my little child sized chair with Crayola in hand making those marks and wishing with all my heart I was writing that book. I couldn't read yet, did not even know the alphabet at that point, but in my little girl heart a dream was born and it never went away. Proof we never really forget our true selves.

No matter how many times that dream was temporarily set aside as life interfered, homework had to be finished, a living made, babies, houses and husbands tended, it was still there. The dream of being a novelist continued to beckon from the recesses of my memory. In junior high (that's what middle school was called back in the 60's) I was convinced every body's writing was better than mine. However I could not stop writing. I tried but ideas continued to hound me and I felt compelled to write them down. I wrote secretly late at night in my room, hid it in a box beneath my bed and never shared it with anyone. In high school I wrote poetry and even had a few pieces published in the school magazine along with some of my artwork. In college there just wasn't time. I've since then learned to squeeze small increments of writing in while waiting in the examining room at doctors offices, the parking lot at the kids schools or work place, the drive through at the credit union or fast food restaurants. I have even jotted down plot or character notes at a traffic light.

My determination has begun pay off, for recently I managed to finish a novel called The Last Star Sage and it will soon be published as an E-Book. That's not to say I haven't written a novel before, I've written hundreds of them, this is just the first one I believed in enough to actually finish. Previously I always lost focus, got bored, got side tracked by life, finished the plot outline and no longer felt compelled to write the story. Many times the idea just sort of fizzled out completely and it sits in a neatly labeled folder in the back of my file cabinet. So what made this one different?

I had a vision, just a quick flash to start with. It seemed like a very simple vision at the time, but it would not go away. As I began to pursue it the story grew, characters developed, their stories grew. One book became two, then three and has now expanded into five separate full length novels in the fictional fantasy genre. Not novelettes. My Between the Worlds series has become a labor of love that began over fifteen years ago with just one simple little vision.

 So don't lose hope, stick to whatever dream you have. That dream can come true in some way for you too. I'm proof dreams can happen.