DJ Pasternak, Author

Having just self-publishing my first novel Daybreak from in High and currently editing a sequel Hadar’s Son, I wonder if the genre, Historical Biblical Fiction, has a large enough audience to be worth all the many hours—especially those spent on research.

As fate or providence would have it, I came upon a favorite Gospel passage on EWTN daily Mass readings today, at the very end of the Gospel of John (21:20-25 NAB).

24) This is the disciple who is bearing witness to these things, and who has written these things; and we know that his witness is true. 25) But there are many other things which Jesus did; were every one of them to be written, I suppose that the whole world itself could not contain the books that would be written.

It is true the Main Characters in my two novels are purely fictional, but the historical events are as accurate as I could possibly document. In addition, the novels came together with amazing ease. I like to believe the Holy Spirit led me in the writing from the beginning to the ending. However, the research involved came about from perseverance—also a gift from the third person of the Trinity.

Have a Blessed Pentecost!

Habit can be a profitable thing. One of those habits, is for me, praying the Rosary on my eastern deck in early morning as the sun rises; sometimes, even in winter dressed in my thick bathrobe, footed warm stockings, head covering, blanket, etc. And always, on mornings in cool, clear spring weather such as today.

I take my Bible, Rosary, coffee, & toast, pen and slip of paper, and as a perk the crimson sky precedes the sun’s appearance above the eastern horizon—perfect setting to pray and write a few lines of verse to birth a poem amid the sights and sounds of life awakening to spring!

Here are the lines that slid upon the page today:

A Spring Morning

How can one describe the beauty of a spring morning? The greeting of a blazing crimson sky, layered among the clouds. Life—the sound of a lone bird, beginning of a chorus—or a choir Wild turkeys gobbling in the distant woods, sweet notes of tiny birds unseen, yet heard. A single squirrel slipping gently from branch to branch Tree to tree, light-footed, sure-footed What a way to begin the day To imitate the ways of nature and the Lord!

Never be in a hurry, do everything with a calm spirit. Do not let your inner peace be disturbed by anything.  St Fransis De Sales

Simplicity

The beginning of a new month reminded me of the excitement of a New Year; resolutions, reorganizing, putting things in order, prioritizing. I began my day with daily readings and neatly writing a line or two from each reading in a new loose-leaf notebook. It was gratifying to take my time especially writing legibly and reading slowly. I had noticed that lately, I did most things in great haste with my mind focused on a dozen other things that I needed to get to.

This ‘hasty habit’ had been going on a long time, but it had to stop. So, after the readings, I prayed the rosary quietly and meditated. I’d already had coffee and toast, half an orange, and half a banana. But then I began a list of to dos. That’s when I stopped and decided to write this blog. I said a prayer and thought about an incident that happened in the Shop Rite parking lot last week.

I hurriedly parked the car and grabbed my bags and purse. Looking back I realized my blinker lights were on. How annoying! Getting back into the car with my things, I tried this switch and that but could not turn them off. Desperate, I saw a man getting out of his car nearby and yelled, “Could you please help me?”

Probably thinking I might be having a heart attack, he came over and I explained my situation. He got in my car and found a very obvious button I failed to notice and off they went. I gathered my things once more and he started toward the store as I yelled, “I wish they would make a car without so many gadgets. Everything is like that these days.

He yelled back, “Simplicity, that’s what I want.”

“Me too!” Inhale, exhale slowly, paste this and pray my computer doesn’t make me crazy.  Simplicity.  

A friend of mine from ‘up home’ reccomened a book about anthracite coal mning in NE Pa where I grew up. Because of those mines people from all over Europe game to find a better life than the ones they led working in mines in Wales, Polland, Italy, Ireland etc. The conditions were horrible here but better than they had been in their native countries.

My paternal Grandfather worked many years in the mines around and above Scranton. The book “Dirty Miners” written in 2015 is a fact based novel of the miners and their families, as well as, a history of mining in that area. My oldest uncle and father also worked as coal miners for a period of time. However, we never asked about their experiences those hundreds of feet undergound. The the father of the narrator of the book worked his whole life in those dark places and yet Damien never talked with him until he brought Damiano to live with his family in the last years of his dad’s life.

Damiano went to work in the mines at nine years old because his dad was killed in a cave in. The author, John Fitzgerald, described in great detail what this young boy endured. I had no idea what my grandfather faced each day–constantly aware of impending danger. However, unjust, unbearable, and unacclaimed the work of our ancestors was, there remains in us a great and powerful force–a dignity of forebearance in providing for one’s family with the hope of a better life for their children and grandchildren.

This book is a wake-up call for thanksgivng and the realization of our true worth eminating from those dirt and coal dust covered men and the women who supported them. Happy Thanksgiving!

One night last week, I couldn’t sleep and went outside on the deck. Looking up at the clear night sky, a familiar feeling came over me. I thought, Here I am like an ant or smaller–just a tiny ‘speck’. Millions of stars above and beyond lit the darkness of the great unknown.

Who cannot believe in God and know he is in everything? The stars and moon, distant planets, all like a grand ballet, everything in place for a purpose. Me here, knowing my life as ‘a speck’ will pass. The wondering, the not knowing the plan of the grand design, yet knowing it is awesome and this ‘speck’ is ever seeking the One who made it all.

I’ve heard recently that President Trump said he is “…trying to get to heaven”. Aren’t we all looking for that which never ends and never ceases to amaze?

Am I the only one who has a problem with artificial intelligence? And exactly what are we talking about here? First let’s take a look at the definition for artificial: theory and development of computer systems able to perform tasks that normally require human intelligence, such as visual perception, speech recognition, decision making, and translation between languages. Quite impressive!

Now let’s just take the meaning of the individual words. First, artificial: man made or produced by humans especially to seem like something natural. Second, intelligence: the ability to acquire and apply knowledge. This is the simple definition but the list goes on. It’s just not easy to define intelligence. In fact if you look up synonyms for the word there are perhaps hundreds. On the other hand the synonyms for artificial are fewer and the ones I personally prefer are: false and contrived.

Now what brought all this on today? Well, I have an AI program for writing and had to sign up for anther year. I paid the fee and alas, I got a message that said:’ ‘Whoops! Something went wrong’. That was days ago and emails and chats later as well. I searched for a phone number without success, even checking to see if visa had one. So I decided to file a claim with visa to stop payment.

If only I could talk with someone, a real person of intelligence! Plus the fact that I got used to the AI and now rely on my own knowledge. If I ever find the reason for the whoops, I’d pay for it again if they tell me their phone number.

That’s what they call it! It’s happened to me before when half way through my first novel, Daybreak, I hit a brick wall. Nothing for weeks, a month, two months. But the wheels of creativity turned unbeknownst to me, and one early morning the idea took hold and I went with it. That was ten years ago, a number of rejections, hopes, let-downs, revisions later…

However, that novel led to a sequel, Hadar’s Son, the first draft complete, and a third, Growing Pains set in the 60’s. And that’s where once again serious writers’ block plagued me, not only with the novel but my blog, poetry, etc. So its been about three months this time, but finally, I completed one more chapter of Growing Pains, now 61,000 words and this short blog post.

I missed writing and hope to be all the more creative for the pause. Thanks to anyone who reads this. Watch for another post soon.