Why Write

SO that would make you at least 1/4 NA, right? I am envious!

Marie, over the years I've also written several tribute songs. The response I've gotten from this one is one of the reasons I keep plugging away with whatever bit of talent I've been given. Here ya go.
____________________________________________


It's been over forty years since this was written. Since 1968 and Vietnam. It's dedicated to all the boys who came home: and to all the boys who didn't. This is written from a mother’s point of view, and tells her story, and the story of her families unwavering patriotism to our country.




I was ten when daddy went away in Nineteen Forty-One

He said he had to do his part to help the war get won

He hated to leave mom and we three children all alone

But pride and love of country, wouldn't let him stay at home.


I never saw my dad again, just words he wrote to Mom

With lots of love and promises, that he would soon be home.

But we received the telegram, in the fall of Forty-Three

And pride and love of country, was all my Daddy left to me.


The years passed, I was seventeen, when I became a bride

And my husband, like my father, had that same patriotic pride.

Our love was great, three happy years, two healthy baby sons

But pride and love of country, came once again in Fifty-One.


And again I heard the promises, the reassuring words

And though I was scared and lonely, I felt sure that he'd return

So I waited and I prayed, but all that came home from that war

Was pride and love of country, and a little silver star.


I raised our sons to be fine men, and these were lonely years

And they didn't have to go away, but they both volunteered.

For they were sure that freedom must be fought for to be won

Pride and love of country, my father, husband, sons.


But it's lonely when no one returns, to the land of the brave and free

So once again I prayed Dear God, please send my babies home to me.

Then today I received the letter, through tears I read it all alone


For pride and love of country... Thank god my boys are coming home.



E. Don Harpe

Ó 1968. All rights reserved

Excellent Don.
You have a special talent.

Marie and Don your poetry was fantastic. I wrote a poem about the war also as you know most of my poetry is not as up-beat as yours. Not as good as yours but maybe it will touch something.




A. W. Nutter
MEMORIES

It was our first trip in the jungle to do some scouting
A fire fight broke out, running, shooting and shouting
I reached out to take my best friends hand
His blood was saturating this foreign countries land

No songs were sung, no scriptures were read
For my comrade in arms who was now lying dead
For the first time as a man, I hung my head and cried
This was the day my best friend died

My soul was touched today
My soul was touched a very special way

I cradle a small child in my arms his life nearly spent
In war the enemy is suppose to die not the innocent
Once again my tears start to fall hearing your ragged breathing
I don’t know what to do I can’t stop the bleeding

I never meant for you to be harmed this wasn’t your fight
Please don’t die I’ll hold onto you all night
Place your arms around my neck I’ll hold you against my chest
I’ll do my best to protect you as you try to rest

My soul was touched today
My soul was touched a very special way

When you reach heaven you’ll see God face to face
You will find the peace you searched for in his embrace
I’ll continue begging forgiveness for what happened on that day
Praying constantly for your safety and for my memories to be taken away

Alice, I love your picture. I'm glad to finally have a face to the voice I have known for awhile now.

I write because it is part of who I am. As a child I was always trying
to write even before I could put a sentence together. The stories I
read in books, or watched on the television were just a beginning as I
imagined other endings and what if scenarios.

I used writing as an escape from reality growing up to take the edge
off the harsh realities of life. Dealing with feelings and other
emotions on paper really was a great outlet.

I never got tired of writing even as life got easier. I enjoyed the
little stories and poems I created. I look back on the things I did
back then and laugh, but it was my beginning.

I discovered that people liked to read my efforts and I enjoyed that
feeling, but writing has always been a way for me to express myself, as
I do this better on paper, than I ever have verbally. It didn't matter
if the people who read my work gave me compliments, or if they didn't
care for it. I always learned something from those with other opinions. What great learning experiences.

I enjoy writing for myself the most, but since getting published I have
really enjoy the fact that others have read and enjoyed my work as
well.

Even though life has disrupted the flow of words that I have in me at this time in my life, I will keep writing no matter what.

Vickie

I write because I like to escape in a world that I control, and when I write fantasy I can create a world where I can have werewolves, witches, wizards, vampires, unicorns (I never wrote about them yet, hehe), and other things that aren't in the real world, yet.

As some have said, words come more easily to me when in written form. I have always been that way. After working at a rehab center, I found that I had stories that could help others to see hope and give them lessons that I had learned. Perhaps they would not make the same mistakes if I gave them some of my experience.

Previous generations have had the same trials I faced, but these were things no one ever spoke of out of fear that they might be looked down on by others. Our society has become more open and it seems that many feel they are unique in what they have endured. By writing "Mother's Journals" I felt I gave voice to many who had gone before and did not the advantage of the resources available today.


From a couple of reviews I have received;

By	Tree Good "author of The Language of Poetry F... (Deseronto, ON) -

This is a book that will take you through your entire emotional spectrum. It is the story of three generations that progressed from abuse and unwarranted guilt, through anger and hate to understanding and continues on to a conclusion of love, happiness and most importantly, to hope.
The characters in this novel are all fictitious but the feelings and actions of the three main characters, Margery, her daughter Mary and granddaughter Ellen, are so believable that they truly do "come to life" for the reader.
Although Mother's Journals - Parts1, 2 and 3 come to a very satisfying conclusion I hope that Zada Connaway will continue with a Part 4 because now I am wondering how the future of Ellen's daughter, Bethany, turns out.

And:


Our New Book Review
Mother's Journals, Parts 1, 2 & 3 by Zada Connaway is a novel that transpires through generations. Connaway's ability to make her characters real, and draw the reader into their emotions is superb. A spell binding, true-to-life story, filled with mystery and showing how something that effects one's life also effects others around them. I Laughed, I cried and many times found that I was doing both! A powerfully told story!
Freida Luttmer
editor7(at)newbookreviews.org

And the best are those unexpected ones like the woman who wrote to me and thanked me for what I had written. The woman in michigan who called the work therapeutic, and many gushing words of praise from others.

Those are the ones who keep me going, working on more of the same type of stories. When I first started out, I was hoping to help even just one woman, and that would be worth it. Now, I keep going.

Fame and fortune? Well, that might be nice. But that was not my aim. I think I have accomplished what I set out to do, and now I must continue.

I would also like to add that Don and Marie touch my heart with what they have written. I know this to be true by the tears and the smiles I found on my face.

I write because I have to write. It keeps me sane, more or less.

Ann

E.Don,

What a song-- absolutely incredible! Someone needs to get inside your brain and see what is going on there,--you have eough creativity for 100 folks and then left-overs!

Vickie,

Thanks for liking my face.

I noticed the poem I had written did not post. Sorry about that I went back and corrected. Zada looks like we both had the same unexpected book reviewer. You deserve the praise.

A. W., your poem was sad, but but with beauty.

Carol

Forgot to answer Nutter's question. I can't honestly say I have ever experienced satisfaction from writing other than knowing that I did the job in a way that satisfied a city editor or managing editor. I expected to be chewed out on a regular basis because it went with the job. When no one was on my back for a while I suppose that could be called satisfying.
It also was satisfying to walk into the newsroom a little before 7 a.m., tell the copy boy to fetch a cup of coffee and not have the city editor even grunt when he noticed I was there. The worst was having him say, "Dick, I see you got scooped." I worked hard to avoid hearing those words.
As for short stories, books or any freelance work, I've never felt any real satisfaction other than cashing a check. I see it as no different than newspaper work; a finished project that can be forgotten so I can get onto another project.
In the final analysis, I suppose that just knowing I am doing the job is satisfying. I have always been aware that writing is a form of competition. It has meant competing with reporters at another paper or radio or TV station. It has meant competing with other reporters at my own paper. With fiction it means competing with every other writer for a slot in a magazine. To me, that one word summarizes writing: competing. When you come out OK, I suppose that could be called satisfying. I enjoy the competition.

Dick,

I think you wrote Normandy 1944 for other reasons than competing, but that is only my perspective regarding what I consider one of the best books on World War II I have ever read.

Carol

Dick,

You are so right about the competiiton. You have done very well
at that too.

You have a different way of viewing events and that makes you interesting.


I can see why you write.


The following applies to no member of this board:

Everyone writes now--Everyone fancies themnselves a poet,
a writer--whether they can even speak proper English or not.

There are more books for sale than there are buyers.
Will this trend progress or reverse.


You have established yourself--if you were just beginning, would you write as a career?

A. W. Nutter wrote:

I noticed the poem I had written did not post. Sorry about that I went back and corrected. Zada looks like we both had the same unexpected book reviewer. You deserve the praise.

Thank you, your comment means a lot. I liked your poem, and I am glad you went back and posted it. Sad, but meaningful.

Carol Troestler wrote:

Dick,

I think you wrote Normandy 1944 for other reasons than competing, but that is only my perspective regarding what I consider one of the best books on World War II I have ever read.

Carol

I agree Carol. It is a powerful book.

Carol, Zada. Count me in on the praise of Dick's book.

Dick writes ... because it is who he is.

You can tell just from his posts.

He wouldn't know what to do if he couldn't write.

I hear Dick when he speaks of competition. I accept that the competition is great, especially in these days of computers as well as a recession. However, that does not mean a good writer tries to eliminate the competition.

We are here to encourage and when one of us gets published or shares something they have written, or speaks of happy and sad happenings in their lives, we support and/or cheer them on. To me that is why we are here, to be part of a group of writers, who write because they have to in some way, or love to write, and that to me is what being a writer and coming to a messageboard is all about. You might call it good sportsmanship in writing.

Carol

Carol,

I agree with you completely.

There is no quesiton that some writers here are better than others.

Some writers are easier to support than others. I love Dick's book--bought 10 of them.

I do wonder why some people are driven to do what they have zero appitude for.

I know a man who wanted to be a salesman. He would fail miserably , but kept on trying.

My mother wanted to sing. She was hearing impaired and tone deaf--why she wasted precious money on singing lessons totally escapes me.

I guess people do what they want to do.

Quote :

There is no quesiton that some writers here are better than others.

Since I have my own list of the really good writers here, and know that
I don't measure up to their abilities, I place myself in the category
of writers that others can be better than.

The pessimistic optomist,

Brew, I think you have overestimated your competition.

Okay, Nutter,

You have got me to thiinking. I love writers and reading. I do not like to write,

Why?

My life was far too busy, so the idea of writing never entered my mind. Then I became trapped in my house, bored out of my head, so I wrote one book. People seem to like it and I am glad.--they even tell me to write another one.

It was a whole lot of work. I am too lazy to write and rewrite and work myself up to get the right publisher. I have other more urgent concerns.

I won't ask Dick to take up broccoli growing or to run a daycare or a Christmas shop-I will let him write.

I will be a reader.

By the same token, I love beautiful singing--I do not sing. I am very glad people write or what would I read?

So keep at it folks-I need stuff to read.