If you are interested in blogging or want to promote your book, please contact E. B. Davis at writerswhokill@gmail.com.


Our reason for creating WWK originated as an outlet for our love of reading and writing mystery fiction. We hope you love it, too, and will enjoy our holiday gifts to our readers with original short stories to celebrate the season. Starting on 11/16 stories by Warren Bull, Margaret S. Hamilton, Paula Gail Benson, Linda Rodriguez, KM Rockwood, Gloria Alden, and E. B. Davis will appear every Thursday into the New Year.


Our November Author Interviews: 11/8--Ellen Byron, and 11/15--Sujata Massey. Please join us in welcoming these authors to WWK.


November Saturday Bloggers: 11/4 Margaret S. Hamilton and 11/11 Cheryl Hollon.


Congratulations to our writers for the following publications:

Shari Randall's "Pets" will be included in Chesapeake Crimes: Fur, Feathers, and Felonies anthology, which will be published in 2018. In the same anthology "Rasputin," KM Rockwood's short story, will also be published. Her short story "Goldie" will be published in the Busted anthology, which will be released by Level Best Books on April 25th.


In addition, our prolific KM will have the following shorts published as well: "Making Tracks" in Passport to Murder, Bouchercon anthology, October 2017 and "Turkey Underfoot," just published, will appear in the anthology The Killer Wore Cranberry: a Fifth Course of Chaos.


James M. Jackson's 4th book in the Seamus McCree series, Doubtful Relations, is now available. His novella "Low Tide at Tybee" appears February 7 as part of Lowcountry Crimes: Four Novellas, which is available for order.

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Monday, February 14, 2011

Don't Trust Anyone Under Age Forty-Five!

Here's a Valentine's Day message: Don't trust anyone under the age of forty-five. Having grown up during the era of the adage, “Don’t trust anyone over thirty,” I now laugh at how perspectives change once we attain certain ages. Each decade we live brings another milestone and with it new wisdom. I didn’t pay much attention to thirty—it was just a number. Forty got my attention, but I was still so caught up in child-raising that it passed in a blur. Age fifty was a dour celebration like the acknowledgment of a new sound under the hood that might be an expensive repair. At fifty-five, I had to admit that I was aging. Fifty-five years of denial, and I wondered why I couldn’t have spared myself that realization until say, seventy-five. But forty-five—now that was the kicker.


I’m not much of a talker. That’s one reason that I write. Writing dialogue allows me to tailor conversations the way I’d like them to go, enabling me to make that glib remark I wished I’d made, infusing logic into disjointed repartee, and at extreme times giving me the wherewithal to hit a speaker upside the head with a lethal comeback. Regrets, I’ve had a few, and usually they were due to my lack of a quick response or courage to say what I felt when stunned by other’s arrogance.


When I was a child, I was honest due to stupidity. I actually thought that people appreciated honesty. They don’t, or they didn’t appreciate my take on situations. Usually, I was vindicated…eventually. But now I filter my initial response because I know better than to give a kneejerk reaction, at least to those outside my circle of intimates. Within my circle, I’m just as honest as I was as a child, but not during the interim of my thirties and early forties. Childrearing takes a lot of energy. I said one thing and thought another because honesty just wasn’t worth the hassle. The lesson I had learned then was to choose my battles.


A change occurred at age forty-five, and I think many people come to the same realization at that age. Up to that point, we were still evolving our personalities and discovering who we are. With that forty-fifth birthday, you understand that you have attained mid-life and you pretty much are who you are. Evolution doesn’t stop, but rather than have events happen to you, you start to control what happens. You come to realize that if you don’t have some control in your life, it’s your fault. You speak your mind more, become more congruent and if people don’t like it—tough. In short, you stop trying to please everyone and try to please yourself more.


And why is this a Valentine’s Day message? Being honest in relationships is essential. But the problem is that until you really know yourself, which takes time and experience, you can’t be honest. If you don’t know yourself, how can you be honest with your beloved? At every age, we evolve, becoming more at peace with ourselves and with our relationships. Our word has more integrity—and then we learn to lie. We don’t tell our spouses that they are old, fat and ugly. We see them in their youth and appreciate the body they once had, we remember their sacrifices knowing what they gave, and when they get forgetful or can’t hear us, we lie just a little so that they know we care.

6 comments:

Warren Bull said...

I once had a friend who others described as, "honest to the point of drawing blood." We know as writers that the proper word choice can make the point without giving offense.

E. B. Davis said...

Yes, but then what is our intention? D. H. Lawrence offended many people with his honesty. But wasn't it refreshing?

Pauline Alldred said...

I have a friend I keep in touch with sporadically. She's described herself as brutally honest and I suppose she is. But I still remember cringing as she argued at the top of her voice with her dad in a fortunately not crowded restaurant about his poor performance as a soldier, husband and father. I don't know how accurate she was on that occasion but I do know her perception of others is usually way off base.

Hopefully writers have a chance to reflect and understand more deeply before they write what they believe is the truth.

Incidentally, I once had a teacher who described tact as the courtesy of the heart. I like that.

morganalyx said...

What a great post, E.B.

Congratulations on reaching the point in your life where you're comfortable in your own skin. I agree, it takes many of us years before we achieve that level of self-serenity.

Alyx

E. B. Davis said...

Thanks Alyx--you know it all gets a lot better before it gets worse. But there's a lot of time before that happens. :)

Warren Bull said...

E.B., I agree that as writers we have different sensibilities toward readers than we have as people toward friends and family members.