Poet and Writer Anthony Anaxagorou. He is of Cypriot origin and he is from North London.
Becoming a Writer
To become a
Writer
You must read
Books
And
Often write your
Story
In mind-numbing solitude,
Alone.
Jimmie Aaron Kepler
2012
Photo Credit:
English: Taken at the Royal Shakespeare Company
Date: 15 October 2010
Source: Hard Drive
Author: Anthony Anaxagorou
Licensing: Public domain
I, the copyright holder of this work, release this work into the public domain. This applies worldwide. In some countries this may not be legally possible; if so: I grant anyone the right to use this work for any purpose, without any conditions, unless such conditions are required by law. — Anthony Anaxagorou
July is the birthday of America. July is also my spiritual birthday.
What’s that? You don’t know about spiritual birthdays? My physical birthday is the day I was born. It was November 25, 1953 at Brooke Army General Hospital in San Antonio, Texas. My spiritual birthday is when I was “born again”. It is when I accepted Jesus Christ as my Lord and Savior. It is when I was “saved”. It was July 11, 1977 at the First Baptist Church of Lakewood in Tacoma, Washington.
Did you know being good doesn’t get you to heaven. Being “saved” does. Here’s my story of “being saved”.
On July 11, 1977, my life changed. If you look up that date in history, you will find nothing historically significant happened on that Sunday. It was a noteworthy day to me. That day was the watershed event in my life.
July 1977 found me on active duty as a second lieutenant in the United States Army. I was serving as Battalion Maintenance Officer, 2nd Battalion, 47th Infantry, 9th Infantry Division at Fort Lewis, Washington.
Life was good. I had a beautiful, intelligent wife. I had a new son born in January that same year. I had just gotten a commendable rating during an annual general inspection in maintenance. It was the first commendable rating since the division had returned from Vietnam. Named an Outstanding Junior Officer of the Ninth Infantry Division because of the commendable rating, I received an offer of a regular army commission. My career was going great.
I always tried being the best I could be, and doing what was right. I was a detail-oriented perfectionist, high-achieving, and a workaholic. I excelled at most things I did. However, after all of this, I still had an empty, unsatisfied, void, and alone feeling. Beginning in my college years I tried drinking adult beverages, women, materialism, partying, and hanging-out with the right crowd to fill this unexplained need I had. I knew something was missing from my life.
I was also attending church. At my church I noticed a group of men my age that seemed to have what I was missing. I attended a Bible study with them. Here I found that God has given us an important manual for life — the Bible. He has the answers to the problems and emptiness we may face. I found out I was here for a purpose, and not by accident. I learned Jesus loves me, and desires to have a personal relationship with me. However, sin separated me from Him.
I realized I had a sin problem.
The Bible says, “For all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God.” – Romans 3:23 But no one is perfect! Not even a perfectionist. We have all sinned and therefore cannot save ourselves by simply living a good life. Why?
I learned there was a penalty to be paid for my sin.
The Bible says, “For the wages of sin is death, but the gift of God is eternal life in Christ Jesus our Lord.” – Romans 6:23
I learned God gives us a promise.
The Bible says, “For God so loved the world, that he gave his only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in him shall not perish, but have everlasting life.” John 3:16.
I learned that God made provision for me.
The Bible says, “If you confess with your mouth, ‘Jesus is Lord,’ and believe in your heart that God raised Him from the dead, you will be saved. For it is with your heart that you believe and are justified, and it is with your mouth that you confess and are saved. – Romans 10:9-10
I prayed to accept the gift of eternal life through Jesus.
I prayed, “Jesus, I know that I am a sinner. I believe that You died for my sins and rose from the grave so that I might have eternal life in Heaven with You. I willingly repent of my sins and ask you to come into my heart and life. Take control of my words, thoughts, and actions. I place all of my trust in You for my salvation. I accept You as my Lord and Savior, and this free gift of eternal life. Amen.”
What came next?
Since then my life has not been perfect. It’s been far from it. I have messed up from time to time, sometimes failing miserably in my decisions and choices. However, I have had direction and purpose in my life. I know where I am headed. I have the Bible to give me the principles for daily living. I am never alone. I have had real peace for the last 37 years.
How about you?
Have you ever been “saved”? You can do like I did. Romans 10:9-10, 13 tells us, “That if thou shalt confess with thy mouth the Lord Jesus, and shalt believe in thine heart that God hath raised him from the dead, thou shalt be saved. For with the heart man believeth unto righteousness; and with the mouth confession is made unto salvation. … For whosoever shall call upon the name of the Lord shall be saved.”
Can an intelligent person or intellectual/scholar believe in God? Can an Intelligent Person Believe in Christianity?
The Real Question — The answer to the above question(s) is, “Yes, of course! We cannot deny that many intelligent people do believe in God and Christianity.” So a better question may be, “How can an intelligent person believe in Christianity?” or “Why would an intelligent person believe in Christianity?” Click HERE for more the answer.
About the photo: It was taken in February 1977 in my military quarters at Fort Lewis, Washington. In the photo in Miss Benita, my bride. We have been married since 1974. Also in the picture is our first child, Kristopher. Yes, I look tired. I had just returned home from a fourteen day training exercise. I had not had sleep in over 72 hours at the time the picture was taken. I was very tired. The picture was taken by my late father-in-law William Clarence Breeding, Sr. He and my mother-in-law had came to Washington State to help Miss Benita with our new son Kris.
Howdy, this is Jimmie Kepler. I don’t know where the readers of my blog live, or what their weather is like. I live in Dallas, Texas. Dallas is in the southwestern part of the United States of America. It is summer in Dallas.
Long time residences and native Texans refer to this time of year as “the blast furnace”. Why do we call it that? It is because the weather is usually as hot as if you were near a blast furnace.
Speaking of the word hot, it is not used by the weather person on the television or radio until the temperature is over 100 degrees Fahrenheit. When we are just in the 90 degrees range, they say it will be warm today. My guess is where you live 90 degrees is considered hot. It isn’t that way in Dallas or north Texas.
Most days when I get off work, if the temperature is below 100 degrees I do not turn on my car air conditioner. The exception is when I am just sitting in traffic.
To stay cool in our homes in the summer we run fans and air conditioning. My house is normally cooled to 78 degrees with a fan running to keep the air moving.
My day job considers the warm weather. We are allowed to wear shorts to work twelve months a year. On the warmest days, you will find me in khaki shorts and a Hawaiian shirt. It is very casual business dress.
Why not leave me a comment about where you live and the weather you have in July? I would love to hear from you!
Summoned to my high school guidance counselor’s office, I learned not everyone thinks being a writer is a good idea. I still recall the meeting as if it were yesterday.
“Why can’t I be an author?” I asked. I wanted to be the next Kurt Vonnegut, Philip Roth, or Ray Bradbury. They were the best-selling authors of the day.
Her career choices for me came from the father role models on the popular television programs of the era. She wanted me to be the next Mike Brady (the architect dad on The Brady Bunch) or an aerospace engineer like Steven Douglas (My Three Sons).
“Jimmie, you’re a boy. You need a college degree in engineering, math, science, or accounting. You have to earn enough money to support your future wife and family. Forget your silly notion that a man can support himself by writing. It is okay to write for a hobby, but you will need a real job. With your grades you could even aspire to be a doctor or dentist,” she said.
I was heartbroken. Raised to believe I could do anything, now I wasn’t so sure.
Has anyone ever laughed at your vision of writing? Perhaps you have been told you lack life experience or you don’t stand a chance because everyone is writing now that they can simply self-publish on Amazon.
You may have feelings of doubt, thinking if only you had an MFA. If only your family and spouse supported you more. If you could quit your day job. Maybe you are in your sixties like me. You think it is too late. You say I am just too old. If only…
We all experience self-doubt. Friends and family do not always understand our passion.
Everyone faces such challenges. My faith as a Christian also helps me overcome such thoughts. Here are a few lessons I’ve learned.
Some people will never understand your passion for writing. Don’t bother trying to explain. Just let them watch as you write.
Read. Reading is necessary for writing. Not only is reading the fodder for writing, it is fun. It also helps me relax as well as grow.
Write. I know it sounds silly, but to become a writer you have to write. I have heard for years that it takes 10,000 hours to master something. 10,000 hours is five years worth of forty-hour weeks. Maybe that is why it takes ten years for so many to get that first traditional book deal. Do not be a want to be a writer. Write.
Edit. This includes proofreading, rewriting, and polishing. No one is perfect. Critique groups help as well as reputable professional editing services. Rewrite as needed.
Submit. To your surprise, someone may like and buy what you wrote.
Rejected. Being rejected is not personal. Your writing may be bad. It may be good, but just not meet the publisher’s or editor’s needs. You may have submitted to the wrong market or not followed the submission guidelines (both guarantee a rejection). Every writer gets rejections. The photo is a rejection I received from the New Yorker Magazine. I’ve been rejected by the best.
Accepted. Selling a book or an article doesn’t guarantee success. Many times it means the real work is only beginning. Having your work accepted by a publisher feels good. It feels very good.
Writers’ Groups. Consider joining a writers’ group. I have belonged to three over the years. I have changed groups as I have changed. Some groups I have belonged to were for critique. Some have been to learn the business of writing. Some have been for the encouragement.
I know the thoughts I have shared are all items you have heard many times before. Sometimes a reminder is good.
We all have people like my old high school guidance counselor in our lives. Do not let their negative words keep you from writing. If you have the urge to write, write! It’s not too late.
The formula really is simple. It is read, write, edit, rewrite, submit, and repeat. If your writing is good enough and if what you write matches the publisher’s need, you just may see your story in print.
From time to time I get asked what I am working on in my writing life.
I have a few projects. First, I’ll share the new projects. On-going projects will follow. I’ll close with the old projects.
New projects:
I am excited about joining the Author Culture Blog. It is at http://authorculture.blogspot.com. In the days ahead I’ll be doing some book reviews for them. I owe them my biographical information, getting the bio information up on the site as well as scheduling the first review.
I am a writing a science fiction book. Here’s my book pitch. I’m 15% through writing the first draft of the book (about 15,000 of 100,000 words written) … What if all religion had been eradicated from the solar system in the twenty-second century? What if a time capsule is opened two centuries later containing a copy of the Holy Bible? Its reading causes a revival of the “dead” religion Christianity to spread across the solar system. What if a coalition of the descendants of the atheist, freethinkers, and humanist that had eradicated religion centuries earlier comes together to again free the solar system from the scourge of religion? What if the place where the time capsule was found and read becomes a holy shire? What if this city is attacked with resulting severe damage? The Bradbury-Burroughs Rain Dome tells the story of the rebuilding of the Great Wall and Rain Dome in a retelling of the Holy Bible’s Book of Nehemiah set on the planet Mars in the twenty-fourth century.
On-going Projects:
I have a dozen scheduled book reviews on my blog Kepler’s Military History Book Reviews. You can find it at: http://keplersreviews.blogspot.com
I continue writing flash fiction, short stories and poetry. I submit the fiction monthly.
Old Projects:
I continue seeking a traditional publisher for my book, “Honor and Jealousy in Texas”. Traditional publishing moves as slow as a glacier. When will I sell it? When I get the correct offer. Will I Indie publish it. I don’t think so, but no not to ever say never. It may be a book written to show I can write on from start to completion. I learned so much in the process.
I am finishing the edits on a book of poetry titled, “Lonely and Feeling Blue.”
In my neighborhood
there is a sidewalk.
It’s greets me every day.
In front of my house,
It goes to the east
Toward the sunrise
And it goes to the west
Toward the sunset.
I can get on my sidewalk
and walk to the end of the street.
There it is met by another sidewalk.
It provides a path
pointing toward other destinations.
My sidewalk is old.
It is cracked, wrinkled, broken and uneven.
It is aged by both weather and time.
My sidewalk has allowed
children to roller skate,
ride their scooters,
and their skate boards, and
girls and boys to play hopscotch,
but mostly girls played it.
Boys and girls painted pictures
On its surface with colorful chalk.
Bicycles are ridden up and down the sidewalk.
Families walk on it together
pushing babies in strollers.
Teenagers hold hands
learning of life.
Old men and women hold hands
as they walk together
sharing their life.
Policemen walk down it brining bad news.
The parson walks on it
bringing comfort after the bad news.
My sidewalk takes me everywhere
Like to my library
Where I meet a world without care
It may be just cement to you,
But my sidewalk is my friend, true and true.
Jimmie A. Kepler
2008
My Sidewalk was originally published in:
Words…Rhymes…Poetry & Prose
Way back in 1969 I was in the eleventh grade. Let me share an experience I had with the school counselor.
“Why can’t I be a writer or author?” Those were words I spoke as I mustered all the manhood I had as an eleventh grader to keep from crying as my high school guidance counselor told me that becoming a writer or author wasn’t an acceptable vocational option for a man.
The school counselor answers, “Jimmie, you’re a guy. You’ll need a trade or college degree in engineering, accounting, or teaching to support your future wife and children. You need to forget that silly notion that a man could ever support a family writing. It’s okay to have writing as a hobby, but you’ll never earn a living doing it. You’ll need a real job.”
The words broke my heart. My parents had raised me to believe I could do anything. My Sunday school teacher and youth pastor had taught me God had an amazing plan for my life. Up to this point, I believed it. After the counselor’s words, I wasn’t so sure.
Several years later, I was a seminary student. One day in chapel, I heard a sermon about a man with an unusual name, Mephibosheth. He was lame in both feet. He had a disability, an affliction. I learned he faced many challenges, sorrows, and problems. In spite of this, he didn’t know the king of Israel was about to bless his life. The most powerful man in all of Israel, King David went out of his way to bless someone others viewed as unworthy. Our King of kings, our great Lord Almighty desires to do the same for us.
Have you been told your dream of writing is just that a dream? Maybe you’ve been told you haven’t experienced life enough to write, that you’re too young to write, or that the competition is too great? You may be dealing with feelings of doubt, think if only you had a MFA or if your family or spouse supported you more, or maybe you think it’s too late – you’re just too old. If only … Let’s face it, at times we all face challenges and difficulties in our lives that make us feel unworthy to serve the Lord. As Christian writers, we serve the Lord with our writing.
We may feel there is no way God could use us. We dwell on negative thoughts. We focus on why we can’t. We feel it’s too hard or the chances of getting published are stacked against us. I want you to stop those I cannot do it thoughts. Think about the things you and God can do.
Remember, God doesn’t look at our exteriors, our limitations, or our failures. He looks at His flawless creation – that’s you! God says, “I can use you; I want to use you.”
We should live in this truth. Don’t let anyone or anything including self-doubt stand in your way of serving our great King of Kings and Lord of Lords! If he has called you to write, He will provide the platform, publisher and audience/readers. He’s also a big enough God to take care of your financial and emotional needs.
My name is not a household name as a writer. I do not support myself writing. Thirty years ago last month my first magazine article was published. I was paid 2½ cents a word. Since I sold the first article in 1981, I have had many articles and poems published. You can see a partial listing of my work at http://jimmiekepler.com/publications-and-poems/. I have have hundreds rejected. I have had a nonfiction book initially accepted and then killed when an editor changed. I have a historical fiction book that’s been rejected a couple of times and yet I keep on submitting while writing the next book. I am a regular contributing book reviewer for a national magazine.
What can I say? I love to write and read. I writing is your thing, ignore the negative thinkers, and trust God and write!
Spring break 1974 was the last time I hitchhiked. By then it was going out of vogue. Drivers viewed picking up a stranger as a risk. It was in the mid 1970’s that we learned some people picked up hitchhikers to do harm to them. They would rape and kill them. Had I know that I would have never stuck my thumb up and hitched a ride, but I did. Here is that story.
The story of the last ride I hitched is straightforward. It was spring break 1974. The effects of the Arab Oil Embargo that was put in place during the Yom Kippur War of late 1973 were taking effect. Due to shortages, cars and their drivers lined up at service stations to get gasoline. The traditional full service station became extend during this period. Sometimes you had to wait days to fill up your car’s tank.
March of 1974 found me completing my junior year at The University of Texas at Arlington. Fortunately, I lived adjacent to the campus. This meant I could walk or ride my ten-speed bicycle to class. More and more frequently, I opted for my ten-speed as my preferred method of transportation.
During this same time, Interstate 20 (I-20) was under construction across south Arlington, Texas. Lake Joe Poole was a future development dream.
I was dating my future wife. She was a senior in high school. She lived in DeSoto, Texas 25 mile away. The Tuesday of her spring break, I decided to ride my bike to her house. I left the campus of UT Arlington and head south until I ran into the construction on the future I-20. There I go on the new concrete roadway and headed east several miles until I got to Belt Line Road in Dallas County. There I again headed south. Belt Line Road in just a few short years would be under Lake Joe Poole’s water. There was a huge mountain to go up. My ten-speed zipped up with great ease. As I continued riding past all the television broadcast towers in Cedar Hill, Texas, I quickly crossed the then two lane US Highway 67. Belt Line Road intersected just east of US 67 with Texas Farm Road 1382.
The ride on my ten-speed from Cedar Hill to DeSoto was only five miles. Unfortunately, about hallway between the two towns the rear axle on the bicycle broke. A broken rear axle is bad. It meant I could not ride a bike because the rear wheel would no longer turn.
I had to car the ten-speed the last two plus miles. It was a hot March day with temperatures in the middle 80 degrees. I was not very smart in my travels as I had only one one-quart canteen of water with me. It soon was gone.
I arrived at Miss Benita’s house. She was happy to see me. Her eleventh grade sister was not happy I had invaded their space. They could not believe I had ridden my bike 25 miles. They were even more concerned, well at least Miss Benita was, about how I would get back to college. I remember making a fist with my right hand and extending my thumb.
The girls were afraid of hitchhiking. I seemed very scary to them. From 1967 to 1972, I thumbed many rides. It was still an accepted method of travel.
Well, I chained my bike to their chain-linked fence. I walked down to the Fina gasoline station. Joe Castle owned the business. He asked where my car was. I told my sad tale. He carried me to Cedar Hill and wished me luck. He made sure I had a cold Dr. Pepper.
At Cedar Hill I no more than got out of the Castles old American Rambler station wagon and took my place at the side of Farm Road 1382 (FM 1382), thumb extends this time trying to go north than a Jeep stopped and gave me a ride.
It was a machinist headed for his swing shift at Ling Tempco Vought (LTV) Aeronautics in Grand Prairie, Texas. He let me out where FM 1382 crossed the Pioneer Parkway that was also called Spur 303. He used to be in the US Air Force. That is where he learned his trade of building airplanes. He tossed me a Coca Cola as they left me at the side of the road.
I was not waiting even two minutes when a Chevrolet Camaro stopped. As they rolled down the window, two girls about my age greeted me. “Hey, aren’t you in our English class?” were the first words they said. They followed with “You’re one of those ROTC guys, aren’t you?” The both had an open can of Old Milwaukee beer. The hollered for me to get. The girl who was riding shotgun got out, had me get in and them just sat in my lap. They replaced my Coca-Cola with a beer. We zoomed down Pioneer Parkway until we got to Cooper Street in Arlington. We turned north and head to the campus. They took me to my apartment. They didn’t drop me off. They came in where we listened to the stereo and did what college kids did.
The return trip to my apartment took me about 20 minutes less time than riding the ten-speed t my girlfriend’s house had taken. I still am amazed.
I haven’t hitched a ride since that March day in 1974.
It is Friday March 7, 2014. It is the 66th day of 2014. There are 299 days left in the year.
Did you know the Bluebonnet is the state flower of Texas. If you are from Texas of course you know that. If you’re not from here, but got here as fast as you could, you may know that. If you wish you lived here now you know.
Way back in 1901 the Texas legislature adopted the Bluebonnet as the state flower. While it is very pretty, there just weren’t enough of them around for all to enjoy. The solution? In the 1930’s the Texas Highway Department started putting Bluebonnet seeds along our roadways. It’s no accident the blue flowers are everywhere.
A typical spring sight in Texas is children standing or seated among the state flora with mother or father snapping their picture. Some families go to the same spot every year and have a history of their youngins growing up in the land of the Bluebonnets.
To Protect and To Serve (Part Two):
Yesterday I shared I was pulled over by my local police as I was driving to work. The officer said the light was out over my license plate. They checked my driver’s license, state inspection, and car insurance. When I arrived at Starbucks, I checked. The lights over the license plate work, were on, but were very dim.
I replaced both light bulbs after work yesterday. My local Auto Zone Store was very helpful. They sold me some super bright LED bulbs. With tax they were over $10.00. They showed me how to remove the bulbs and replace them. Now it looks like there is a spotlight shining on my license plate.
Miss Benita:
I refer to my bride of over 39 years as Miss Benita. Her real name is Benita Beatrice Breeding Kepler. As a southern gentleman I call her Miss Benita. No, I didn’t watch too many episodes of the original Dallas TV show back in the 1970’s and 1980’s. Remember Jock Ewing calling his wife and J.R.s mother Miss Ellie? My grandfather addressed my grandmother this way. I thought is showed great respect. I still do.
Miss Benita was diagnosed with cancer back in December 2013. They found a malignant tumor. They were not able to remove all because it had spread into the lymph node. On March 5 Miss Benita received the results of tests that show if the cancer has spread elsewhere. I’ll quote her post on Facebook, “Back from oncologist. Good report. No more cancer found. No treatment needed at this time. Will see him again next month.”
Way back in 1969 I was in the eleventh grade. Let me share an experience I had with the school counselor.
