Tag Archives: writing

a train called forgiveness: excerpt four

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IMG_7176The following is another short excerpt from my first book “A Train Called Forgiveness.”  The entire book was originally written online.  To make the book easy to follow in an online format, I wrote it in a “broken-prose style,” and gave each chapter several sub-chapters.  This is a scene from chapter 4 where Andy Burden is traveling by bus to visit his parents years after they’ve left the cult.

Check out the most recent review of my books by Floyd @ There Go I.

If you’d like to buy a copy of “A Train Called Forgiveness,” it’s available at Ibis Books and at Amazon

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I’m riding on a Greyhound bus.

I needed time away from the Easy Mart, from the voices, the dreams.  I bought a ticket to Stillholm to visit mom, dad, my brother.

The bus winds through Coldwater Canyon.  Rocks and trees are frosted with a light snow.  The Jocelyn River twists and turns and tumbles white.  It’s one of the most beautiful places I know.

It’s been a year since I’ve been back to Stillholm.  The bus has to go through Bonneveldt to get there.  I hate that town.  Some of Peter’s people still run the farm.  I ran into Russell a couple years back.  I didn’t like his vibe.

Mom and dad are in the final stages of divorce.  Mom’s getting everything.  Dad doesn’t care.

It’s due to religion.

They can’t reconcile their differences.  Mom went right, fundamental, charismatic.  Dad went left, liberal theology, new age.

It’s funny how bad things emerge from something good.  Or is it good?  What is religion?  Is it God?  Or is it an institution?  And if it’s an institution, that’s a form of human power.  And if it’s power, doesn’t power corrupt?

The feel of the bus on the highway comforts me.  I find solace in travel.

In 1988 and ’89 I rode trains.  I went to Denver, Boston, Memphis, New Orleans, L.A.  I met a girl in Denver.  We passed time together.  We parted ways in Boston.  I got drunk in Portland, Maine.  I smoked some weed on the Capitol Building lawn in Washington D.C.  I listened to the blues in Memphis.  I went to a strip club in New Orleans.

I love the feel of steel on steel.  I love the slow and steady sway.  It eases my mind.  I love to see America through the big glass windows.  Someday, I’ll ride again.

The bus is different, but it has a similar effect.  The gentle hum pacifies.  The vibration lulls me to sleep.  I linger in and out of a semi-dream state.  I go back in time.

Before the cult, I was an athletic kid.  I loved sports.  I played little-league baseball and football.  I dreamed of being an all-star.  I heard the roaring of the crowd as I made another touchdown, hit another grand slam.  Yes, I remember.  Before the cult I had high energy.  I used to ride my bike everywhere.  In the summer in Maine, I’d ride three miles to the ocean every day.  I used to body surf and snorkel.  I loved the ocean, the waves, the pull.

The roar of my dreaming ocean turns into the hum of the bus engine.  I wake as the bus slows down, coming into Stillholm.

Dad picks me up at the depot.

The old house in Stillholm is empty, except dad’s old chair, a folding table, and a couple of cots.  Mom sold the furniture.  Dad’s living in the empty house until it sells.  His health is bad.  He lost his job.  He’s got no place to go.

It’s a broken dream.

a train called forgiveness: excerpt three

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This is a very short excerpt.  Andy is trying to understand how he can write about his past in a cult without reliving the hell he went through.  He is taunted by negative voices, yet there is a hopeful voice in the end.  I intentionally kept this short, simply to juxtapose the suffering and inspiration of the character.

* * *

I ride my bicycle to the Jocelyn River.  I sit and think.  I watch the river flow.  The voices are mild today, but still with me.

I ask myself, “How can I tell my story?”  They answer, “You can’t.”

I ask myself, “How can I share this burden?”  They answer, “You are the burden.”

I ask myself, “How can I let go?”  They answer, “We have you in a choke hold.”

I ask myself, “How can six years of life in a cult be put into words?”  A soft voice speaks directly to my heart.  It simply says, “Have faith.”

* * *

A Train Called Forgiveness is Dan Erickson’s first book.  It’s a novel based on the reality of his own childhood.  Dan was the child victim of a cult.  The book follows his life both, during his years in the cult, and after he escapes.  Get your copy today at Amazon.

how to get your resume noticed

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Creating a solid, professional resume is the first key to getting noticed by potential employers.  In order to get on the hiring manager’s desk, your resume has to be professional, flawless, and unique.  It needs to say, “Wow!  I’d like to hire a person like that.”  So how can you get your resume to the top of the stack?  Here are a few pointers:

Today I’m guest posting at Tom Dixon’s blog, MondayIsGood.com.  Tom offers solid practical career advice and I’m honored to be featured as his guest.  Read the rest of How To Get Your Resume Noticed.

finding something in nothing

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Photo courtesy of Bill Betten @ Dry Creek Images

Photo courtesy of Bill Betten @ Dry Creek Images

Have you ever felt like “nothing” is getting done?  Have you ever had a day when “nothing” goes right?  Have you ever felt like you are “nothing?”  Maybe it would be better if we thought less of ourselves and more of others.

There’s one simple reason I remain productive day after day, week after week, year after year.  I produce content, not for myself, but for others.  I write without expectations of glory or financial gain, but because I believe I have information and stories to share that will help motivate, teach, and heal others.  If we think of ourselves as “nothing” we find that we think of others and their needs as “something.”

So what about those days that feel like “nothing” is getting done?  It’s a lie.  As long as you’re consistently working on your craft, producing posts, books, poems, songs. or whatever it is that you produce, you’re doing “something.”

If you’re waiting for the “big deal,” you might be waiting for a long time.  If you have high expectaions of success you will nearly always be dissappointed.  If you expect “nothing,” you will be happy when “something” comes your way.

I’m not saying we should think poorly of ourselves.  I’m not saying we should accept those days when we feel like “nothing” is getting accomplished.  What I am saying is this: Stay committed to your work, your projects, your passion for the right reasons: to serve others without expectaions.

Question: How can you put less emphasis on yourself and more emphasis on others today?

writing your way toward forgiveness

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I was recently offered the opportunity to be a regular contributor at the blog lifelettercafe.com.  I am honored to be a part of their team.  I wrote my first post for Life Letter Cafe today.  Take a few moments to check out the site, and read the post, Writing Your Way Toward Forgiveness, on their Life Notes Blog   I’ll be providing Life Letter Cafe more posts, a couple per month.  I’m excited to be a part of their team.

a train called forgiveness: excerpt two

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IMG_7176In this excerpt, Andy Burden is remembering the day that his family left their comfortable home in Camber Creek, Maine to move to Washington State.  Andy was ten years old at the time and had no idea that his future would be that of a child slave in a religious cult.

* * *

Listen.

I know.  It’s a burden, my story, the cult.  It was a burden to live through.    The story’s a burden to tell.  For you, a burden to listen.  But it’s a story. It’s a true story.  We can learn from each others’ stories if we just listen.

This story starts in Camber Creek, Maine about 17 years ago..

It was springtime.  The moving truck was in the driveway.  I carried a large box, stuffed full of pictures of people, snapshots of places, memories.  I spent several years in Camber Creek.  Now, I was leaving it behind.

Out the door to the truck, I tripped.  The box flew.  There, on the ground, was my family history.  Glass shattered.  Pieces scattered.  It was an omen, a prediction.  I didn’t know it then.  I was too young, excited.

I had known for a few months we’d be moving.  ”Going West.”  Dad told me great things were happening in Washington State.  He said we were going to a town called Bonneveldt.

We loaded the truck.  Soon the house was emptied.  My room, missing what made it mine, was lonely.  The emptiness echoed my past, my beginning.

Our lives were packed into boxes and stacked neatly in the truck.  Still, something felt chaotic and uncertain.  Dad turned the key.  The engine hummed.  He shifted into drive and we began to roll into the unknown.

* * *

A Train Called Forgiveness is available at Amazon Books

 

redefining success and failure

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photoWhat is success?

Lately, I’ve read several posts and comments about failure.  But I think some people are a bit mixed up about the differences between success and failure.  In one post, a literary agent was lamenting the fact that she could not find a publisher for a client’s manuscript.  The author of the manuscript had recently posted on her own blog that she had failed as a writer.  Two years had gone by and she had not found a publisher and she considered that a failure.  The agent joined the pity party.

What?  Get out of town!

If I could say anything to the author, I’d look her right in the eye and shout, “You wrote a book for crying out loud!  You found a literary agent who was willing to shop it for you!  What about that is a failure?”

Here’s the problem: Too many people equate success with monetary gain, social position, and fame.  I’m calling bullshit on that definition of success.  So? What then, is success?  I’m glad you asked:

1.  Success is having a dream.  Success starts with a dream or a vision.  If you have a solid vision of what you want to do with your life, you are ahead of the majority.

2.  Success is having a plan.  We all know dreamers who never follow through with their dreams.  To be successful you need a plan.  If you have a solid vision and create specific goals and strategies for achieving your dream, you’re one step closer to success.

3.  Success is taking action.  Doing is the final ingredient for success.  If you have a vision, and you’ve set your goals, you need to follow through.  I keep a regular schedule to blog and write.  I get it done.  That’s success.

Now that we’ve redefined success, what is failure?  Simple.  Failure is simply not following through on any of the three steps of success.  But I’m more interested in what failure isn’t:

Financial gain: Some people equate success with financial gain.  That’s a lie.  If you’ve written a book, created a beautiful piece of art, or raised healthy children you are successful.  Period.

Social status: ”I’m not rubbing elbows with Rowling and King.  I must be a nobody.”  Oh, get over yourself!  Success is not your social status.  It’s the fact that you started a project, stuck with it, and completed it.  If you give up at that point because you’re not on the bestseller list you never will be.  Keep going.

Instant: We all know the story.  Thomas Edison spent years to invent the light bulb.  He tried thousands of times before he found the right combination that illuminated the world.  Were his early tries failures?  No!  They were steps along the road to success.

Those who have vision, a plan, and follow through are successful.  If your first project doesn’t bring you the desired monetary results, social status, or fame you think you need, you have still succeeded.  You took the project from start to completion.  Money and status are simply byproducts of success.  But if your goal is to be at the top you only have one choice.

Don’t stop!

Ask Thomas Edison, Steve Jobs, or Bill Gates: The rewards will come to those who consistently develop new ideas and create new technologies, art, and products.  But if you define your losses and missteps along the way as failures, you’ll likely get discouraged and quit trying.  The only failure is not trying in the first place.  Enough said.

Questions: How do you define success?  Have you considered some things as failures that were actually steps to success?

a train called forgiveness: excerpt one

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Available through Ibis Books and at Amazon

Available through Ibis Books and at Amazon

I’m going to repost some excerpts over the next few weeks:

Here’s a short excerpt from the beginning of the book A Train Called Forgiveness.  It introduces Andy Burden, the protagonist.  Andy was the child victim of a cult.  The story starts with Andy’s struggle to deal with the severity of his past experiences.  A Train Called Forgiveness is available at Amazon.

* * *

 I’m a burden to you.

That’s right.

A. Burden.

My name is Benjamin Andrew Burden.  I go by Andy, or sometimes just A.  I’m 27 years old.  I live in a 20-foot trailer in the middle of an apple orchard in Jocelyn, Washington.

It gets lonely out here.  I don’t mind.  It gives me time to think.  After all I’ve been through, I need time to think.

I work overnights at the Y-Easy Mart.  It’s a convenience store out where Highway 2 meets Highway 97.

I sleep days.

Nights off, I play guitar, write songs, read.  Anything to keep my mind busy.

Sometimes, I drink a little beer.  I used to smoke weed, but I started getting paranoid.  So I quit.

I thought people were following me.  I thought they were out to get me.  Sometimes, late at night, I’m still scared.  It feels like someone is watching me.  I don’t know why.  It’s just a feeling.

I think it has something to do with my past.

I was in a cult when I was a teenager.  That’s right, a cult.  You know, a group of people who are foolishly loyal to an egotistical leader.  Remember Jonestown?  Well, it wasn’t that bad, but it was bad.

Weird, huh?  It wasn’t my choice.  I was just a kid.

more than full

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Coming home from Idaho we stopped

to fill up the tank.  Annie looked

at the gauge and said,  ”Look dad,

the tank is more than full.”

My heart, the sky, my soul, our eyes,

the love that lives within us, freely

given by creation’s maker, over-

flowing, ever-growing.

More than full: my plate, my mind,

the words I find, blowing in with gusts

of wind, landing softly on the page.

And so I pray that I may empty

a bit of myself for all the world,

to help, to heal, to spread, to feel,

to spill the light of infinite love.

To spill the light of infinite love.

* * *

This is the last poem for my forthcoming book Blogged: Two years of poetry from cyberspace.  I started the project on April 30, 2011 and I’ve written over 100 poems in the past two years.  All the poems were written “live” onto the blog.  The next step is to cut, paste, edit, and format.  I hope to have the paperback version of the book ready within a few months.  I’ll keep you posted.

With one book of poetry complete, I’ll be starting a second soon.  The next poetry project is going to have a specific theme.  Recently I saw a book of poems that was written about and around the famous folksinger, Leadbelly.  That gave me an idea.  I studied Woody Guthrie, his life, his times, his music, in grad school.  How about a book of poems on Guthrie?  I’m considering this as the working title for my next book of poetry:  Words on Woody: A True American.  

 - dan

the stories of real life

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Ripples shimmering in orange sunset,

the boat cuts water, knifelike, as

academics party, discussing theories

and politics, attempting to solve

problems without truly understanding

underlying causes.  Intellectually

towering above common folk,

PhDs offer solutions based on

textbooks and hypotheses, an

exercise in futility.

I stare across the water, knowing I

no longer belong.  Perhaps,

I never did, my creative spirit

driving me against the institutional

tide.  Now my vitae needs

updating, but I don’t care.  No

more feathers in my cap, I’ll

let them fly into the wind like

the eagles that soar above the lake

in January.  I’d rather describe

the moment, the breeze,

the whitewater of the wake,

the excessive homes along

the hills, the occasional minimalist

gem that would make the perfect

writing shack, a place to record

the stories of real life.