http://tinyurl.com/y8kakux7I'm writing this as encouragement for authors who get dumbed down reviews from mindless readers. Even though I have over (200) five star reviews on my novels Blue Hole and the sequel River's Edge I still get a few reviews like the following. One said, "I haven't stated to read the book yet and not sure i will so I'm giving it one star. Another said, "Not sure if I was able to follow the story I've been on pain medicine, one star. A third said, "I didn't like the book but my husband and our son did, one star." I le ...continued...

The Million Man March Commemorative Poem titled: "A Black Man" written by myself two years before the Million Man March. "A BLACK MAN" DO NOT LOOK INTO MY FACE AND SEE THE COLOR OF MY SKIN, AND NOT SEE THE CONTENT OF MY CHARACTER. DO NOT LOOK INTO MY HISTORY AND SEE THE THE DARKNESS OF MY PAST, AND NOT SEE THE BRIGHTNESS OF MY FUTURE. DO NOT LOOK AT THE LOSSES OF MY MISTAKES, AND NOT SEE THE PROFITS OF MY ACHIEVEMENTS. DO NOT LOOK AT THE DISTANCE I HAVE YET TO TRAV ...continued...

Every single day we have to setup our camp and get the dogs settled. Every day we look forward to sitting in our cold tent for some degree of warmth and relative relaxation warming water for drinking and mixing with our dehydrated meals. We realize it is still below zero in our tent (our water will freeze overnight if left in something uninsulated), but warmth at this point is relative, funny how that works. To create our little slice of the tropics here we of course need a tent, and to set our tents up, we have to use an evil little device called an ice screw. See, we cannot use ...continued...

THE MAGNIFICIENT MENTOR The notice in the church bulletin read, “Anyone interested in writing, meet in room 312 on Tuesday night. Bring some writing to share.” My heart skipped a beat. I had prayed about how I might start to write about the experience our family had been through with our daughter and her spinal cord tumor. And now, here was an answer. I had written poetry f ...continued...

The Walk "Dad, can you wait for me to take your walk?" My seven year-old son was looking up at me expectantly. His eyebrows were arched over his brown eyes and his close cropped hair was sticking up in three different directions. "Can ya, Dad? Just fifteen minutes." I looked away from my e-mail and smiled at Eric. "Sure, but hurry up and get ...continued...

When he was in his early eighties, my father taught me about the possible depths of his love. I knew my parents had a fine relationship but I never realized how much my father adored my mother. There was little hint of his admiration and passion in their visible every day relationship. Only after my mother sank into Alzheimer’s did my grief-worn father reveal his immeasurable love. Oh he didn’t talk about his feelings: he was, after all, a WWII veteran and a man raised to stoically endure for the sake of his family. But he showed me his devotion every day. Lesson I: “Is ...continued...

http://journals.sagepub.com/doi/abs/10.1177/10459602013003003 The first source I chose was from a scholarly journal. I was able to find it on Sage journals, and considering it being scholarly, I know that it is a reliable resource. Google also let me know that many other people have used and cited this course as well. I believe this source can help people understand the importance of cultural competance. This walks people through the process on how and why we do what we do to ensure that clients will feel safe and comfortable. http://www.tandfonline.com/doi/abs/ ...continued...

By Chris Christodoulou &nb ...continued...

THE VICKER’S YESTERDAYS His collar was turned up against the wind because it WAS a dark and stormy night. The gale pushed against his body and tore at his cape pulling at the only clasp till it gave way. Father Roy grabbed at the cover between his now chilled body and the fierce storm. “Why couldn’t the church find its way clear to pay the contractor to add another button or two on these things.” he muttered. Father Roy had been in his study enjoying his third toddy when Sister Olivia called. She n ...continued...

Dec 17, 1947, I was born to Lorane Joyce and Daniel Quintin Boje, in Memorial Hospital, Spokane, Washington. Twins had died the year before I arrived, making me, the first born, that lived. My dad married my mom, though she was pregnant with those twins from another man. I know this because, when I was fifty years old, she fessed up and showed me her picture outside the church, and you could see she was well along. My dad told me after his divorce from my mom, to read my birth certificate carefully. Thinking I must be adopted, I studied it. Turns out, he was unemployed, and listed as a labore ...continued...

It was in the centre of Paris that I was run over. Our ever-faithful bicycles were used to the maximum around the city. It was rush hour, and the reputation the Parisians have of being the worst drivers in the world was justified. Admittedly, we were on the pavement, studiously avoiding the square-hatted policemen who had told me off earlier that day for riding on the path. We were sitting at the lights, and when pedestrians were shown the green light, off I sped. A lady in a small car hurtled around the corner through the red light, we collided. Actually, I pushed myself off the car, only ...continued...

As Mark Twain once said, “there has never been an uninteresting life.” Hi Rolland,
Wanted to let you know that I have gotten your cousin Wave started writing her life story. I just have a few pages going but that is a start, isn't it? I thought I would send them to you when I get further along, this way you can tell me if ...continued...

North Pole ...continued...

Kansas 1886 Jason Cahill sat in front of his stone fireplace on a bitter cold January night, a medical book in his hands. But every few minutes he would glance up at the clock on the mantel. A minute later he looked sideways at the front door. “What is taking so long?” he murmured. At almost the same time he had spoken these words, there was a loud rap on the door. Jason stood up quickly and unlocked it. Outside, a full moon at their backs, two tall men in ankle-length coats and Stetsons waited. Between them they carried something long and heavy, concealed in a canvas bag. ...continued...

Two similarities I found between the CLAS standards, and the standards for Information Technology in the health field are to provide respectful and effective services to people of other cultures, as well as delivering accurate, accessible, and actionable health information that is targeted or tailored. It was hard to find documentation on the cultural standards of Information Security, which is what I eventually plan to go into, so I chose Heathcare Information Technology, which was a bit easier to find information on. Both the CLAS and the IT standards hold tightly to the idea of raising cult ...continued...