Finalist in The Phoenix Rattler

I have been away for a little while and I apologize, but I haven't been away from writing. On the contrary. I took a chance and submitted three chapters of Bullied to Death to Christian Writers of the West. And I am a finalist in the 2011-2012 The Phoeniz Rattler contest!

Just when I thought about slowing down, taking a break, stepping away from rejection, God took hold of me and knocked some sense into me! I thank Him each and every day for His blessings. Thank you Christian Writers of the West for providing this opportunity for me.

Bullied to Death

Yeah! Time to celebrate. I finished Bullied to Death. I am submitting to agents now. Please pray for this book. Also, pray that this book glorifies God. Thank you so much. You are so appreciated. 

The Bully by Roger Dean Kiser

Okay, while researching bullying stories for my book, Bullied to Death, I found this story that truly touched my heart.

The Bully

I walked into the Huddle House restaurant in Brunswick, Georgia and sat down at the counter as all of the booths were taken. I picked up a menu and began to look at the various items trying to decide if I wanted to order breakfast or just go ahead and eat lunch.
"Excuse me," said someone, as they touched me on the shoulder.
I looked up and turned to the side to see a rather nice looking woman standing before me.
"Is your name Roger by any chance?" she asked me.
"Yes." I responded, looking rather confused as I had never seen the woman before.
"My name is Barbara and my husband is Tony," she said, pointing to a distant table near the door leading into the bathrooms.
I looked in the direction that she was pointing but I did not recognize the man who was sitting, alone at the table.
"I'm sorry. I'm, ah. I'm ah, confused. I don't think that I know you guys. But my name is Roger. Roger Kiser," I told her.
"Tony Claxton. Tony from Landon High School in Jacksonville, Florida?" she asked me.
"I'm really sorry. The name doesn't ring a bell." I said.
She turned and walked back to her table and sat down. She and her husband immediately began talking and once in a while I would see her turn around in her seat and look directly at me.
I finally decided to order breakfast and a cup of decaffeinated coffee. I sat there continually racking my brain trying to remember who this Tony guy was.
"I must know him," I though to myself. "He recognizes me for some reason." I picked up my coffee up and took a sip. All of a sudden it came to me like a flash of lighting.

"Tony. TONY THE BULL." I mumbled, as I swung myself around on my stool and faced in his direction.

"The bully of my seventh grade geography class," I thought.
How many times that sorry guy had made fun of my big ears in front of the girls in my class? How many times this sorry son-of-a-gun had laughed at me because I had no parents and had to live in an orphanage? How many times this big bully slammed me up against the lockers in the hallway just to make himself look like a big man to all the other students?
He raised his hand and waved at me. I smiled, returned the wave and turned back around and began to eat my breakfast.
"Jesus. He's so thin now. Not the big burley guy that I remember from back in 1957," I thought to myself.
All of a sudden I heard the sound of dishes breaking so I spun around to see what had happened. Tony had accidentally hit several plates knocking them off the table as he was trying to get into his wheelchair which had been parked in the bathroom hallway while they were eating. The waitress ran over and started picking up the broken dishes and I listened as Tony and his wife tried to apologize.
As Tony rolled by me, being pushed by his wife, I looked up and I smiled.
"Roger" he said, as he nodded his head forward.
"Tony" I responded, as I nodded my head, in return.
I watched as they went out of the door and slowly made their way to a large van which had a wheelchair loader located in the side door of the vehicle.
I sat and watched as his wife tried, over and over, to get the ramp to come down. But it just would not work. Finally I got up, paid for my meal, and I walked up to the van.

"What's the problem?" I asked.

"Darn thing sticks once in a while," said Tony. "Could you help me get him in the van?" asked his wife.
"I think I can do that," I said as I grabbed the wheelchair and rolled Tony over to the passenger door.
I opened the door and locked the brakes on the wheelchair.
"OK. Arms around the neck Dude," I said as I reached down and grabbed him around the waist and carefully raised him up into the passenger seat of the van.
As Tony let go of my neck I reached over and swung his limp, lifeless legs, one at a time, into the van so that they would be stationed directly in front of him.
"You remember. Don't you?" he said, looking directly into my eyes.
"I remember, Tony," I said.
"I guess you're thinking 'What goes around comes around'," he said, softly.
"I would never think like that, Tony," I said, with a stern look on my face.
He reached over and grabbed both of my hands and squeezed them tightly.
"Is how I feel in this wheelchair how you felt way back then when you lived in the orphan home?" he asked me.
"Almost, Tony. You are very lucky. You have someone to push you around who loves you. I didn't have anyone." I responded.
I reached in my pocket and pulled out one of my cards that had my home telephone number written on it and I handed it to him.
"Give me a call sometimes. We'll do lunch," I told him. We both laughed.

I stood there watching as they drove toward the interstate and finally disappeared onto the southbound ramp. I hope he calls me sometime. He will be the only friend that I have from my high school days.

Resource:
 http://www.eastoftheweb.com/short-stories/UBooks/Bull.shtml

School's Out

Summer vacation has officially started in my house. In a way, I'm glad. I don't have to see my daughter come through the door, head down, shoulders slumped, to find out about a bully teasing her or throwing a ball at her. I've pondered the idea of homeschooling, but she's against it. And in a way, I am as well. I love the thought of a one-on-one with my daughter, teaching her, being with her, but I'm not sure that's the way I want to go. I would like for her to stand up for herself. As she grows older, she will have to do this. I also don't want the bullies to win. Why should they get the run of the school? So, what I'm thinking about doing is helping her stand up for herself. I will check in every day to make sure things are going okay. If I have to go to the school every day, I will. I'd love to find out why a bully does what he/she does. What's his/her story?

In my book, Bullied to Death, Sophia stands up for herself by posting her bullies' pictures on her blog. She stands up to them. That's what I'd like all children to do who are bullied.
I'm thinking about a series to Bullied to Death--the next book being in the POV of the bully. What do you think?

Let's unite and stop this once and for all.

Good Wednesday Morning!

I heard that those trying to join my blog or write comments were having problems. I'm hoping it's fixed now.

My daughter was bullied again last week. This boy in her class, the one she's been having problems with all year, asked her to "go out with him." She said, yes. The following day, he told her it was a prank. So sad. We had a long talk. I told her not to give him the time of day, basically. I pray she knows how special she is. 

Another boy threw a ball at her in a game and smacked her in the eye. The next day, he threw it into her stomach. I emailed the teacher and got a "nice" note saying how she's supervising the game and getting on the kids that throw the ball too hard. If I hear of it again, I will call the principal.

Many of these stories will be written in my book. They are from my daugher's life.

Welcome to my blog

I started this blog, Chloe's Journal, because I think bullying is a huge problem in this day and age. I've written a Young Adult Fiction called Bullied to Death about a teen, Sophia, who loses a best friend (Chloe, hence the name) to suicide due to bullying. Sophia must make it through high school with the same group of jerks after her. She rallies by using a blog, like this one, and Facebook to post pics of the bullies so everyone can see them "shine". Not to mention, see them in the act.

My eleven year old has been bullied for awhile now by a group of boys in her class. They think it's funny to call her names and pick on her, and from time to time hit her with a ball or push her. She's so sweet and so beautiful, she's a child of God. And I pray she believes it.

Please come visit this blog and post any story or comment you have about bullying. Let's get this to stop.