The prompt this week is name. Your name is everything. Your name is your badge of honor. No one wants their name to be dragged through the mud. I have wondered several times if I would use a pen name if I ever got a publishing contract. Part of me thinks no way! If I get published I want my name on the book cover. The other part of me, the not-so-confident part, says yes, a pen name would make it less obvious that it was me if the book was a huge flop. I’m still undecided, but then at this time in my writing life, it is really a moot point.
Another thought came to mind when I saw the prompt. You know how you have to give the person a name when you go to a restaurant and have to wait to be seated? I always give a different name, because our last name is too much trouble to spell and pronounce/sight-read. I usually give our daughter’s first name, even when she isn’t with us because it is easy to spell and say and uncommon enough that nobody else is likely to be using it. It works as long as we don’t forget which name we gave at the hostess stand.

Names are important because they are our way of identifying ourselves. What does your name say about you?

This post is part of the weekly Five Minute Friday link-up!
The prompt this week is: Name
The assignment: Write for five minutes on the word of the week. This is meant to be a free write, which means: no editing, no over-thinking, no worrying about perfect grammar or punctuation. Just write.

This week the word prompt is culture. Hubby used to say that I was “culturally deprived”. I didn’t grow up going to the ballet, symphony, opera, or fancy restaurants. We grew up poor and were only exposed to the “arts” when we went with school field trips.  The fanciest restaurants we went to when we were growing up were places like MCL Cafeteria, Ponderosa Steakhouse, Gray Bros. Cafeteria, and Famous Recipe Fried Chicken. I don’t blame my parents for this. They had two adults and four hungry kids to feed and we didn’t go out very often, probably not even once a month. There certainly wasn’t any extra funds to pay for cultural events. If we wanted things while we were growing up, that was fine, but we had to earn the money to cover the cost ourselves. I began working when I was about ten years old delivering the afternoon newspaper six days a week. We went on very few vacations because dad was a barber who worked Monday through Saturday and delivered the morning newspaper seven days a week. It was too expensive to pay someone to run the routes for a weekend and then it was difficult to find someone who cared enough to do a good job as a substitute carrier.

Yes, I grew up poor, but I didn’t realize it at the time I was living it. I asked hubby again just now if he would still consider me “culturally deprived” and he said, yes because I still haven’t learned to appreciate the finer things in life. For what it’s worth, I think he is right about me being culturally deprived but not about me not appreciating the finer things in life. I do appreciate them, but perhaps what I consider the finer things isn’t that same as what other folks would consider them to be. Perhaps culture is over-rated.

This post is part of the weekly Five Minute Friday link-up!
The prompt this week is: Culture
The assignment: Write for five minutes on the word of the week. This is meant to be a free write, which means: no editing, no over-thinking, no worrying about perfect grammar or punctuation. Just write.

Has anyone ever told you that you have promise? Maybe as a way of describing some moderate amount of talent or skill? Have you ever promised to do a favor for a friend? Of course, you have. Promises are all around us. They are part of wedding vows and contracts. If you have bought a house or car on credit you likely signed a promissory note. That is a fancy word that means you promise to pay it back with interest.

You may be wondering if any of our promises can be believed in the world we live in today. If you have been lied to before, and honestly who among us hasn’t at one time or another, then you may well have trouble trusting anyone at their word. Your word is your promise. If you break your promise, your honor is at stake. We were raised to believe that honesty is always the best policy. While I still believe that with all my heart, I can also make a case for those little white lies we tell when someone asks if the pants or skirt they have on makes their read end look big, for example. We were taught to be nice, and that if you can’t say anything nice, you shouldn’t say anything at all. It is tough to be nice and yet never tell those little fibs that avoid hurting someone else’s feelings. When you go to court and get sworn in, you swear/promise to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth, so help you God, all while your hand is on The Bible.

I do my best to keep my word no matter what and I try to avoid telling fibs just to avoid hurting someone’s feeling. It isn’t too difficult. You can usually think of something positive to save that is true, and thus avoid telling even the tiniest of lies. Once someone has been caught in a lie, it is very hard to trust that person at their word the next time. Let your word be your bond that guarantees you will do what you have promised. It makes life so much easier when you don’t have to remember which stories you told to which friends or family. Just tell the truth and the truth shall set you free. Mom was right, honesty still is the best policy.

This post is part of the weekly Five Minute Friday link-up!
The prompt this week is: Promise
The assignment: Write for five minutes on the word of the week. This is meant to be a free write, which means: no editing, no over-thinking, no worrying about perfect grammar or punctuation. Just write.