February, 2017 | Author LM Hinton

Blue – Writers’ Guild Texas 2016 Flash Fiction Contest

Leah M. HintonFebruary 27, 2017Leave a Reply

Last fall, I decided to enter my first ever writing competition. To make it more challenging, I decided to write a story for a Flash Fiction Contest. Flash Fiction is a complete story – start to finish – in a thousand words or less.

Some of you might think that I played it safe because I chose a contest requiring a small amount of writing. But you can’t understand Flash Fiction until you’ve tried writing Flash Fiction. You aren’t allowed pages upon pages to establish a character. You have to do that in a mere sentence or two.

Flash fiction is definitely an exercise in brevity and understanding what your story is truly about. There are no bunny trails to wander down.

I won second place in that contest for my submission entitled “Blue.” This February it was published in the online monthly newsletter/journal of the Writers’ Guild Texas.

You can read it here.

Meme 1

Leah M. HintonFebruary 25, 2017Leave a Reply

A Saturday morning meme, for you.

The War of Art – by Steve Pressfield

Leah M. HintonFebruary 23, 20171 Reply

“Most of us have two lives. The life we live, and the unlived life within us. Between the two stands Resistance.” – Steven Pressfield

It is rather appropriate that the first book I’m choosing to review for this blog is a book that I am driven to live every day.

I have wrestled with the artist part of my being for as long as I can remember. I pushed it down and tried to find more acceptable pursuits. (Acceptable in the eyes of friends, family and society where success is measured in dollar signs.) If not art, then in law as a paralegal, or in teaching.

I suffocated in self-inflicted professions as anything but author.

The most fun I’ve had outside of writing is teaching. Perhaps because teaching can be an art — when done with passion. And a part of me gained satisfaction knowing I could be something important to a few. As gratifying as it often was, I still was very aware of it not being the best of me.

There have been many voices keeping my artistry pushed deep within me and keeping me hiding it from the world. Oddly, the ones I listened to so completely had never read a word of my writing.

However, The War of Art points out something I never wanted to believe. It points out that this Resistance with a capital R — the influence that keeps us from our higher selves — is something we’ve each created within ourselves. There becomes an addiction to not living up to our potential. And not living to our potential is easy. An even easier with the multitude of excuses so readily available to the angst riddled artist.

Do we have to stare death in the face to make us stand up and confront Resistance? – Steven Pressfield

This book helped me realize I was the only thing keeping me back. I need to make changes and I need to change now. And the power to push through is within me.

If you have even the slightest inkling to pursue something that puts you on a higher plane — painting, writing, singing, entrepreneurship to name but a few — then by all means read this book.

See what you can achieve. But don’t only try once. Work every day at being the higher, better you. It is a war of sorts, made of many battles, none of which are cheap.

The warrior and the artist live by the same code of necessity, which dictates that the battle must be fought anew every day. – Steven Pressfield

I know that “following my dream” is just another way of saying “living to my potential.” Living to the capabilities given me by my Creator. And I know the greater my pursuit is of IT, the greater the pull of Resistance.

The more important a call or action is to our soul’s evolution, the more Resistance we feel toward pursuing it. – Steven Pressfield

Buy the book here:
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Hiding From Wonder Woman

Leah M. HintonFebruary 16, 2017Leave a Reply

I thought the women in my life were strong.

I’ve grown up and I realize they were weak. They were hiding.

The women in my life hid behind their men. They hid behind convention. They hid behind their faith. They hid behind the fear of all that could go wrong. They hid behind the shear act of existing.

And they taught me to do the same.

I’ve spent years of my life in hiding. Not like witness protection hiding, where you are hiding because you are part of something bigger than yourself, but the kind of hiding where you’re fine never leaving a mark. Never. Leaving. A. Mark.

When I was a little girl, I had a particularly strong affection for Wonder Woman and Princess Leia. These were strong women. But they weren’t real. They were fantasy and not something of this world. As much as I wanted to be Wonder Woman or Princess Leia, I was taught they were nothing more than fodder for dress-up. They were who I could be when I was playing pretend. But for the real world – it was required I be a white-soled sneaker.

On the gym floor of life, I would never leave a mark.

Now, with half of my life behind me, I realize I’ve been wrong.

Wonder Woman and Princess Leia were the physical manifestations of the dreams of the collective girlhood of the 1970s in America.

Who didn’t want to fly an invisible plane? Who didn’t want to be a SPACE PRINCESS? No one. Duh.

But more importantly, who didn’t want to be significant somehow, in something that is right or good, or beautiful?

Girls of the 1970s realized maybe there was more. Maybe we could have actual dreams and not be outcasts for it. (Gasp. I know. Startling, isn’t it.)

It took me awhile, but I’ve finally caught up. Now don’t get me wrong. I’m not hoisting a late-unfurling flag of feminism. That’s not who I am. I have a deep affection for many of the things modern feminism doesn’t enjoy, BUT I can be Princess Leia. I can wind my hair in thick buns over each ear and fight a good fight. I can be Wonder Woman, grab my golden lasso and stand up for truth. To emulate my heroes does not mean I’m playing at life. It means I’m living it. Living it with wind in my hair and the sun on my face.

Yes, the women in my life hid behind their men when they should have been standing beside them. They hid behind convention when they should have been re-writing the rules. They hid behind their faith when God never asked them to be less than what He made them to be. They hid behind the fear of all that could go wrong when risk brings reward. They hid behind the shear act of existing without ever living.

I’ve abandoned what I was taught. I’ve written a new story for myself. And I’ve written it with a sharpie marker for everyone to see and no one to erase. I’ve hid from Wonder Woman for far too long.

As for the invisible jet? Wouldn’t that make car pool more fun?