2 Days left Book Giveaway For Stealing Destiny (Immortal Obsession Book 1)



Those that follow my blog already now that I am a writer. This summer I was inspired to write the greatest story I could write that the end result is my novel Stealing Destiny (Immortal Obsession Book 1).

The best novel in the world probably not, but it is the best story I can write and I am very proud of the result. It combines suspense, desire, love and friendship with an awesome twist on Angels. I decided to give away an autographed through Goodreads. I wanted to share it with those that follow my blog so below is the link to the contest, the blub and a sample. I hope you enjoy it.



2 Day Book Giveaway For Stealing Destiny (Immortal Obsession Book 1)

 Get a free autographed copy of Stealing Destiny.

 Fall into the veil between the heaven and earth and watch the war between Demons and Angels. You will find yourself crying and laughing along with the characters in this book.

It took one kiss for Destiny to steal his heart and Damien lived his life for another one from the woman he loved. If he only knew that that one kiss would lead to his death and eternal damnation, would he still have kissed her? In one mere second of time, Damien loses his life because of a supernatural twist. On a stormy night in the back roads of nowhere his car careens out of control and into a field claiming his life. Suddenly, everything he ever thought about heaven, hell and angels takes on a whole new meaning as he struggles to get his life back. Falling from heaven, Zahir makes the ultimate sacrifice but who is to benefit from it? When Zahir stole Damien’s future, his destiny and his body, he decides it’s time to steal it back. But then he is offered a choice between the life he was destined to live and the one Death offers him, putting him at a crossroad. Damien wants to make the best choice he can so that he can carry out his plans to marry Destiny. However, what Damien fails to recognize is that getting his life back is going to take him into a whole new dimension of what the afterlife means. In every lovers triangle there has to be someone who loses. No romance ever truly sees the happily ever after. One fell from heaven, someone is headed for hell and Destiny is the prize. When your heart and soul hang in the balance, is there ever really any second chances?


Chapter 01 – Searching for the light

The silence of the night broke with a loud hollow snapping sound echoing from the distance. It came closer, it grew louder and louder like thunder being pushed towards me. To most, the figure in the distance would be lost somewhere in the shadows hidden by a blanket of dark-ness. But I am not like most people. I could see his arms waving around with a big cloud shooting out of him as his breath struck the cold air. With each stride he took, his long overcoat flapped and snapped in the wind as he dodged his way through the alley. Finally he trotted out on-to the sidewalk gasping for air like an internal battle, his whole body stiffening and quaking as a loud coughing spell exploded from within him. He, then, suddenly shot up and started digging into his pockets. Deeper and deeper he searched, until he yanked something out and shoved it into his mouth. He pinched his lips together and with the flicker of a lighter, he inhaled and slowed down his pace to a stroll.

The hollow sound of his shoes hitting the hard flat cement grew louder, I gripped the cold solid handle of my dagger. My knuckles snapped and cracked as I squeezed my trusted blade a little tighter. My hand shook terribly as the thought that I needed to kill him soon entered my mind. I snapped my hand back open and just let the cold blade of my dagger tumble back into its sheath with a slight thud.

I thought that I had already gotten over the inner moral turmoil that killing Damien Douglas would bring into my life. I delayed this task for too long now, and time was running out. I looked for a reason to let him live, but all I could see was darkness growing in his soul. In a lot of ways, I loved him like a brother, but I loved Destiny more. To save him from himself and her from him, I would do what needed to be done. I would pay a dear price. There was always a price. I knew that as long as he was alive, she would never love another man. I knew that as long as she loved him, death was etched in her future. Now, I am not heartless or bloodthirsty, because he would kill her in a crime of passion a few years from now. I just decided not to wait for him to do it. It was no longer a question of whether or not he was good or bad, because I saw the future, and he would become as evil a monster as any that have ever lived, both real and imagined. After giving him so many chances to show me that the goodness in him was stronger than the darkness, I just decided that I didn’t want to wait until it was too late to stop him. This hurt me to the core. I loved him as I do her, but what else could I do. Ultimately, her life means more, and if killing him is the only way to save Destiny’s life, then he must die.

After a few minutes, he crossed the sidewalk from the inside to the outside as he passed by an old homeless beggar without even giving him a second thought. He trotted, he slowly brushed his hands up through his hair, almost yanking on it at the end, and casually glanced at his low lit reflection in the window. He curled his nose and looked away before sharply turning and gliding up the stone stairs on his way through the door way of a little broken down motel. For a mere heartbeat, it was a low deep thudding sound. Then as quickly as it appeared, it vanished.

I turned to my companions, to hear, “I really cannot tell for sure,” Raven squawked as she stood up on her tip toes, stretching her neck upward. Her hands tapped against her hips as she pinched her lips together, slowly shaking her head from side to side. “I just cannot condemn him to death unless I know for sure.” she muttered.

“It’s a yes or no answer! Either he will or will not kill Destiny.” I paced around the little alley as I waited for her to respond. It seemed so small and confining that day as I waited for her approval. She again did that little up and down thing on her tip toes, as if a few extra inches would allow her to see into his soul.

“I have to say maybe.” She stared incredulously at me, “This is not an exact science, you know.”

Before I could say a thing, Bane popped his chest out like a rooster and crowed, “Listen here, Zahir. We know how important it is to you that nothing happens to Destiny.” He paused and glared at me. “I know she is your ward. I know how passionate you are about saving her.”

Raven’s voice sounded like fingers scraping across a chalkboard, “I will not condemn him to die unless I am sure he deserves to die. Unless I am sure of that, there is no other way. The same as I cannot tell you that there is more light than darkness in his heart.” With that, she squeezed closer to the edge of the alley, half-twisting her way through the opening. The giant bear-like Bane just raised an eyebrow and had one of those ‘I do not know what you expect me to do.’ He then turned and trotted deeper into the alley while shrugging his shoulders and muttering something under his breath.

I just looked at Raven helplessly, trying to hold in my sorrow, or at least trying not to let it show. Every movement was short and slow. She’d bounce up, then back down, turn her head to the right in a twisting movement, and so on. “I see dreadful darkness,” I could admit. I al-most collapsed over the news.

“Not yet. Do not dare think that I am saying he is consumed or will give in to the darkness. All I see is something dark in his future.”

I was at a loss and questioned, “What?”

Her lips pressed together in a pouting motion as she tapped her narrow twig-like finger against her lips. “I see darkness, but fate and free choice are always at odds. The future is always changing. Man is meant to follow a defined path, but due to his passions that is not always where he arrives.”

“Does he kill Destiny?” I begged to know in frustration. She jumped back and looked up at me as I realized that I had spoken more forcefully then I intended to. Open-mouthed, a light squeak was all that came out of her.

“Does he try to kill my Destiny?” She seemed to ignore me as she went back to her task in silence. I tried to read her emotions, but there were none.

There was a loud crack and the loud thumping of bass echoing from behind Damien as he kicked open the door and smashed his way through the door. He was half-carrying out a short curvy figure that seemed to be in the midst of groping him as she hung on in utter fear. It was an awkward struggle as each seemed to be guiding the other uncontrollably. He was almost dragging the poor little creature down the street until he stopped suddenly and with delicate care, slowly lowered her to the ground. He stood up, and tucking three fingers into his pock-et, asked, “Are you okay?” With a slight sway in his hips he waited for a response, explanation, or some reason for what he knew he really did not want to hear an answer to. I did not need to read his mind, heart, or soul to be able to understand the concern that consumed his face like a mask.

A shy little ashamed voiced whispered, “Yes. I think I am.” She then started rubbing her hands together.

Damien slurred, “Are you sure, Desiree? If you tell me that any of those boys hurt you, I will smash them around until….”

The little woman cut in. “No, please don’t go all Rambo on them,” Those giant innocent eyes pleadingly stared up at him. “It was just a misunderstanding, that’s all.”

In a firm tone, Damien exclaimed, “What exactly is the misunderstanding?” His whole body quaked with fury as his eyes bulged out of their sockets. Even from that distance, the whites of his eyes glowed like candles in the darkness. After a few minutes of silence, he started to demand in a loud crackle, but suddenly dropped his tone. “Why would you start hanging out with the Johansen brothers?” He paced a little. “What could possibly make you want to party with the brothers?”

Long streams of tears poured down along her cheeks as she stated, “They made me feel wanted, desired, and desirable.” As she covered her face, shame glowed all around her. “They called me Desire and asked me to come over…and watch a movie.” Staring up, she frantically continued, “That’s all, just a movie. Then, then, they offered me a drink.” She rubbed her arms, almost tearing about at the skin, leaving long thin trails of red streaks. “I said no, but they kept asking, so finally I agreed.

Damien stormed around her, red-faced. With each step he made, his heart boomed in absolute disgust. “Then what happened?”

“Then the oldest brother Harold sat beside me…” Before Damien could say anything, she mumbled, “He kept touching me and I screamed no.”

Damien exploded, “Did he stop?”

“Not right away, so I ran in the bathroom, and called father Mike. I stayed there expecting Father Mike to come, but heard you calling me. The boys were calling me tease and banging on the door.”

As her tears became stronger and stronger, Damien flopped down on the cement beside and wrapped his arm around her. The way he looked down at her was a tender moment that I had not thought possible for him, but the thoughts that flowed from him were as terrifying as any I had ever read. Images of pain and violence flipped through his mind as he thought of the countless punishments the men upstairs de-served. “Damien, you are not going to shoot them, are you?”

He actually laughed at the thought, since the idea that he wanted to do a lot worse to them was building in him. “No, Desiree, I am not going to shoot them, but I must do something.” He tugged out his badge. “I am the law here, and they broke the law.” After a moment of silence, he asked, “Did you do any drugs?” His expression was cold and stone-faced, like he was searching for a lie.

Fearfully she replied, “No sir.” He kept interrogating her like a prisoner and piece by piece she exploded with confessions. He took off his jacket and carefully wrapped it around her.

“Is father Mike coming to get me?” she asked. He simply nodded and lit a cigarette. “Can I have a smoke, because I am a little shook up.” she asked.

“No,” was all he responded as he tapped his lighter against his palm. “Father Mike would condemn me if I gave you a smoke and preach to you the whole way home.”

“He’s going to do that anyway.”

A slight crack of a smile split his face as he started, “Father Mike has been that way his whole life.”

Wide-eyed, she gasped. “He has always preached.”

“Yes, even when he was just plain Michael, he was long winded and preached a lot.”

As she rolled her eyes, Desiree stated, “I cannot imagine Father Mike as anything but father Mike. Next, you will tell me that he was the captain of the football team.”

He was amused by this thought and blurted out, “No, not the captain of the football team, but captain of the chess team and school news-paper editor.” Damien clenched his fists open and closed as he continued. “That is, of course, when he was not wishing that he could get your mother’s attention.”

Shock covered her face as she gasped at the thought. She screamed out, “Father Mike liked girls?! He liked my mother?!” She was speechless as the thought that with a simple twist of fate, Father Mike could have been her actual father, ran through her mind. That, and of course, the realization that this man she once knew was a real man with real emotions. “Did he, like, date her?” Before Damien could respond, she questions, “Then how did he become a Priest?”

Shaking his head, Damien just mumbled, “I have been asking the same question my whole life.”

With a slow squeak, a dented car pulled up, jumping up onto the side walk. As the car seemed to bounce endlessly, Damien placed her into it. He popped another cigarette into his mouth, lit it, and a mild discussion evolved. Within a few minutes, the smaller man hopped into the car and told Damien he would take her home and meet him later. Damien lingered around for a few minutes after the tail lights vanished from sight, before storming into the building once more.

It was some time before Damien came out again. Such fury filled him as he charged into the street following two young men. He shoved them along, harder and harder, screaming and threatening them. I even trembled as the various thoughts and desires of punishment flowed all around. This was the evil I knew existed in him. This was the evil I feared would destroy him and those that he loved.

The older brother Harold was as defiant as he was stupid. “You can-not treat me like this,” as he pushed and jerked around. His red eyes and gloomy teeth stuck out along with a sweet stench that rolled out of him with each breath.

With a slight kick sending him face first into the ground, Damien followed with, “It looks like I am treating you this way.” As he looked from side to side, he smashed his foot into his side, leaving the man twitching in agony as a low moaning snap rose from his rib cage.

Harold screamed in agony, “You bastard!” as he cried and whimpered.

“Yes I am,” he responded, as he drove his feet into his side. “Yes I am.”

Again Harold screamed, “What kind of cop kicks a man when he has his hands cuffed and cannot defend himself?”

After two more tear-jerking kicks, Damien continued, “The same kind of cop that catches a 21 year old man taking advantage of a 16 year old girl. The kind of cops that beats the hell out of the man who takes advantage of a young woman who has a lame leg. You are a predator, Harold, feeding on her low self-esteem.” His hand clenched around the handle of his gun as he sneered at the younger of the two. “Stay right where you are, Billy Johansen, or else you will be rolling around beside your big brother.”

The baby-faced 16 year old took heed to those words and just froze. I pitied him because unlike Harold, who had a knack and received general satisfaction for most of the horrible things he did, both real and imaginary, Billy never enjoyed being involved and his heart was always full of regrets.

Harold struggled to his feet and just stood there defiantly with a snake’s smile on his face. He was a troubled man with the moral up-bringing of a rabid animal, and I feared that tonight would end his reign of terror. “What are you going to do, just shoot me here on the street?”

Damien immediately responded without any hesitation. “Nope. I was thinking the alley over there in private,” He pointed in our direction. “Do you really think that anyone would miss either of you?” As those words left his lips, the younger brother’s jaw quivered with fear. As those words left Damien’s lips, both of them realized for the first time that there was something to fear in him.



Get eaten by a cat or a squirrel


Today we were outside having a smoke and Sarah saw a little budgie sitting on the side walk next to the house. Now it’s 8 Celsius (47 Fahrenheit) outside and the little bird was just sitting there. Sarah is a soft hearted woman so of course she wanted me to catch it. So here I am chasing a little blue bird down the street with Sarah behind me saying, “you have to it might freeze to death or get eaten by a cat or a squirrel”. So I am chasing this little blue bird up and down or street and finally caught it. Now honestly if it was not for Sarah I would not even bother with it, but since it was important to Sarah it became important to me. I guess that is our balance. Being a country boy I know animals die and Sarah being Sarah means I chase them down the street and if need be up trees. Now we own a bird. Tomorrow of course, we are going to buy a cage for the new member of the household.

Now it was not that long ago that Sarah came across a declawed house cat that was hanging around our back yard for a few days. She took it in and fell in love with it which would be great except this cat was actually lost and the owners came for it. Now how do you fix it when a woman falls in love with a cat and it goes away? Well, sometimes I think a smarter man would say she will get over it, but me I go on craigslist and find two more cats.

Now when we first moved in to the neighbourhood I thought that people just lost their pets, but lately it seems to me to many morons move away leaving their pets behind. I do realize that people get pets and find out for whatever reason that they are not ready for them, have time for them etc., but I think pets should be thought of like family. If you are tired of your mother-in-law you cannot just move and leave her behind or that sweet baby becomes two (The terrible two’s that is) and you cannot just dump him. I think that pets should be the same way. Good or bad just leaving them, letting them go accidently on purpose or just dropping them off. I still think that it’s cruel to just hope that they can survive on their own.

Now I have been to countries where you see a monstrous amount of stray dogs just wandering the city streets and people complain about how much of a menace they are and various other animals that in some cases should not even be in the wild, but in one way or another they were let loose and thrived. People are usually responsible for them being there because of whatever reason. More then not I think it is because people do not research and understand their pet. I know that this budgie will live 10 to 12 years and can be noisy as hell. Yep I can use google. Either way pets are living creatures and should not be thought of as disposable.

Just a thought. Let’s just hope nobody decides their going to move away and leave their pony behind.





I started writing a simple blog about what defines me. It’s a simple enough concept. From the day we are born until we die we gather and combine our experiences and they become linked together to form our memories. Good or bad that is what makes us who we are. Anyway I commented why I do not drink hard liquor and Sarah commented that it is a shame more people do not know their limits so I thought I would talk about that.

I do not drink very much and it is always just beer. Labatt blue or if no blue is available a couple of other brands to be exact. There are plenty of reasons why I have my own strict policy I follow. To people on the outside I look like I am a rather controlled drinker, but the truth is I am what some would call a controlled alcoholic. I have been a controlled drunk since I was twenty years old, but there is no doubt about that is what I am. If I buy a six pack or a two four I am going to drink it. Maybe not in one day, but if it is in my house I will drink three to six every day until it’s gone. I am not the only one in my family who has this issue. My have a few uncles who I have never seen sober. I mean in 40 plus years I cannot remember one day when they did not have a beer in their hand.

In some ways though I am lucky that my family has rules to their drinking. It’s a way of justifying drinking more than they should and feeling good about it. The first rule I was ever told was that if you drink before noon you have a drinking problem. The next rule is that if you drink alcohol that you hate the taste of you have a drinking problem. Lucky for me I guess there are only a types of beer I like. These simple rules are ingrained into my subconscious mind. My previous job every Tuesday they would give us a few beers, but the brands they offered were not in my preferred list so for two years I did not drink it. Now if they had my brand I would have never said no.

Now at my house I never keep beer in the house. A six pack at most. Now if it’s not in the house I never think of it. I can walk by a bar and am not even tempted to go and when I go out I have two or three beers, but I do realize that deep down I am just like my uncle. The only difference between us is that I understand my limitation so I refuse to be victim of it.

One of my earliest memories is of a chair flying through a window when my uncle was in a drunken rage followed by my day and the same uncle fist fighting in the yard with my dad. Now I will admit that we have never talked about it and it could be something that the imagination of a child conjured up, but these memories still define who I am today. My uncle is a nice enough guy until he starts drinking hard liquor. I have the same habit of being an absolute ass when I crack open a bottle if Jack Daniels so I do not crack open the bottle. I can think of many men who share this personal limitation.

I think everybody has addictions and limitations. I know people who quit smoking decades ago and they tell me that even now when they wake up they crave that first smoke of the day. I have seen people reach towards their shirt pocket for a pack of smokes that is not there after an accident. Former drug addicts who kicked the habit shake when they smell the sweet smell of hash floating through the air. I do not believe in being ashamed of our addictions because we all have them. I think that fact we know our limitations and addictions is worth celebrating because knowing them is always the first step to controlling them.

Just a few thoughts



I am back… well i hope somebody missed me

Immortal Obsession Vertical

Sorry for my long absence, but I took some time for me and the family so now I am back. Usually I try to have something insightful to say, but really I don’t have a lot of insightful thoughts so I figured I would just tell the world what I have been up to.

I took some time and just enjoyed quality time with the family. Those simple things that are priceless in their own way. I sang the ABC song with the toddler as well as taught him useful skills such as how to sing “We will rock you”. I took time to play catch with the Mrs. and found out the neighbours admire not only the fact that we do things together, but the fact we are friends and true companions.

I went to Niagara Falls (Canadian side) we had so much fun I felt like a teenager again. I walked through countless wax museums and the world’s scariest haunted house. It’s called Nightmare Fear Factory (http://www.nightmaresfearfactory.com/ ). I will tell you about my experience because I loved it. The first thing I want to mention is that there was a young woman who went before me who scared every few seconds and even chickened out. Imagine walking through an itty bitty hall way with creeping floors, its pitch black and this girl somewhere in front of me keeps screaming. As I felt my way through the dark I kept waiting for someone to jump out and scare the hell out me. I really want to tell you about the freakiest part. It’s the place where they snap a picture of you screaming like a little girl, but what fun would be? Something’s you need to experience for yourself. If you are in Niagara Falls do it. You will be surprised how many people will tell you afterwards that they chickened out. If you are a writer and you can clamp on the feeling of being lost in the dark not knowing what to expect you can write an amazingly scary scene in your next book.

I also created my own little scary world filled with scary creatures, true love and unexpected results. Reviewers and fans like the villain more than the hero and detest the heroine. Yep totally unexpected, but that is great. It just goes to show you how the world can read it and see it a lot differently then I saw it when I wrote it. In case you are curious the novel is called “Stealing Destiny”. It’s the first book in the series called “Immortal Obsession.” In case you want to read a preview it’s here http://jdselmser.com/immortal_obsession_book_1.html . I am also holding a contest for a free autographed copy here’s that link http://jdselmser.com/contests.

Well that’s all I have to say for now, but I will be writing more of my views on the world, love and everything else.



Dress for success



Have you ever noticed that whether we want to admit it or not we can control a lot of little things about ourselves that can and generally will reflect how the people around us see us? My first experience with this was when I was 15 years old and went to spend the summer at my aunt’s house. I was what my parents called a wild child and was sent away mainly because they needed a break from me. Now back home I was the poor kid wearing hand me downs and I guess in so many ways was just another geeky teenager. Anyway those same hand me downs that were considered so terrible where I grew up made me cool in my cousins little city. My red neck accent was also something different and unique to the girls my age that lived in the town as well. There is confidence in being who you are and being seen in a positive light. I played the part because that is how they saw me. With that confidence also comes bravery or stupidity depending on who you talk to.

Shortly after my arrival there I was at the mall with my cousin and I was this guy a lot bigger than me and a few years younger literally smashing a little red head in to this glass pillar. Now my father raised me with the belief that real men do not beat woman. As a matter of fact his exact words were if you hit a woman under any circumstances you are not fit to be called a man. Now I know that I have developed strong moral values, but honestly that was probably the first time that they had ever been tested because it’s easy to say this is right and this is wrong, but until the time comes when you actually have to stand up for those beliefs it is really just theory. Everybody has an opinion and their own ideals of how life should be lived and as people it’s usually defending them that is the hard part. Well without thought I shoved this guy away from the girl and stood between them. Luckily he mistook my shaking as rage and not fear (Yes it was fear) and tried to justify what he was doing rather than attack me. I still remember him trying to justify it by telling me that she had kicked him in the groin and her justifying it by saying he had grabbed her ass. Yes he was just a town bully and being that he had never seen me before his courage fell short because he saw rage in my eyes rather than the fear that was actually there. That was also how I became the toughest teen there. Not because I was the toughest, but because someone else thought I was the toughest.

Now I would like to say that my teenage mind learned that defending your moral values is something that we should all do or that defending someone in need feels right, but I actually took it as we can become anybody we want to as long as we dress the part and those around us believe it. Unfortunately I became the bully who bullied the town bully. I wonder if the thought that I was not the tough guy he thought I was ever crossed his mind.

It was ten years later when the dressing the part lesson would reappear. I was working at a call center and being over looked for too many promotions so I decided it was time to get educated. I applied at a local college and bought a new suit for the school interview. After the interview I went to work as usual in the new suit and rumors that I was looking for a new job went through the whole place. Now the management of the company took it serious because within a few days I had been promoted to a different department with a little raise. Now they had never asked me was I looking for a new job. They saw and assumed I was looking and decided to do something to keep me. Now I did not get any smarter or became a better employee over a couple of days, but people like to assume and if they never ask for the truth just being who you are can make you just that.

Now we all have heard “Dress for success” and I think that success in a lot of cases is not just how much you know, how hard you work, but how you dress and how people see you. I even used to stop wearing jeans to work and throw on a suit and get a haircut just to see if anybody would notice. Usually they do and sometimes it just takes a little polish every now and then to make the world around you notice who you are or sometimes you just need to dress up to feel good about yourself. Every now and then Sarah will get her hair and nails done and then there is a sparkle in her eyes.

So life has taught me that we all can dress for success whether it is at work, at home and definitely if it is just to make you feel better inside and out. Also sometimes just noticing the attempt made by others can be all it takes to help someone see themselves as the success that they want to be.



Sticks and stones


Sticks and stones may break my bones, but names will never hurt me” was a rhyme that most of us have heard in our childhood and I think as we become adults we understand that it can. Well most of us do, but sometimes it amazes me how many people would not stand up in a room full of people and scream out the details of our personal life yet when it comes to the social networks it is done. I really do not see a big difference in how or where you say it you cannot always take it back once it is said and once it’s out there on the internet it cannot be erased.

Now I do not have anything against any of the social networks because I use a lot of them. I am that guy that tweets the funny and sweet tweets and post similar things on my Facebook, but I make it a point to always try and be positive and never say anything that I think would belittle or insult the people around me especially my other half. My personal view on this is that my personal life is personal and how can you say you love someone and then bash them to the world, but yet I see that a lot. It’s not just on my friend’s pages, but their friend’s pages and even people that my friends do not even know.

I know that we all have our good days and bad and certainly I am not perfect and we all carry our own baggage. I am sure that mine is a mile long and there are little pieces of my personality and habits that would drive most people crazy. I am sure that at times Sarah looks at me and shakes her head in absolute wonder, but she never tells the world about it. Like me she believes that our little moments of conflict are ours and that we should share them with each other and not the whole world. We respect each other enough not just when we are together, but in every avenue of life. I make it a rule never to say anything in anger because those are sometimes the things that hurt the worst and last the longest. Anybody can list the faults that they see or that exist, but sometimes you need to sit back and let them slide or be discussed in private. Also just because it is your opinion does not always make it the right opinion.

My point is if you would not the world knowing something you did why you would say about someone else. If you would not want someone saying that you were a bad parent, lover, partner, daughter or friend then think about that before you add it to all the negative comments that someone might have in there day. Action do speak louder then words, but sometimes the words sting more and burn longer



The power of a second impression

A first impression can last forever and like most things in life we are usually judged based on those first few mere seconds when we first meet someone. This became truly apparent to me last week when one of my colleagues at work was absolutely amazed to hear that my life started out in a small two horse town as an uneducated cleaner. At that moment his jaw dropped because he first saw me working on a complicated problem acting confident and in control. It was those few seconds that he judged me. Now he saw confidence and made his judgment on appearance. The tech that sits down from me looked frustrated bad lost even though she is just as good as I am if not better he judged as lost and weak. She is neither, but at the time he saw her and judged her she was caught in a stressful situation with an unreasonable customer. Now no matter how many good calls she takes that is how he will see her. In reality if he would have seen her on any number of other calls he would have seen a very different person. Why because 99% of the time she is the one in control.

Now I am not saying that I do not play my part because even when I am absolutely lost I sound confident because fifteen years working in call centers has taught me that being in control is more sounding confident then actually having all the answers. I am not saying I lie just that I sound like I know all the answers or that I know how to get them. My first job was a level 1 tech working for a popular computer manufacturer and during my training I was told when you are lost or cannot find the answer reinstall the pc. Our database crashed so I spent the rest of the day just reinstalling peoples computers. I took 138 calls and reinstalled 130 computers. I sounded confident so people actually thanked me for not having the skills to fix their computers and wiping the pc. I worked at that company for eight more years and during the rest of my career there I only wiped about 10 more computers, but the point is the impression the people received was that I knew what I was doing and had years of experience. My second day at that company my boss called me in for a meeting and he did not mention how big my screw up was, but how many of those 130 people had emailed the company thanking me for the great job I did. My average talk time was under 4 minutes and I learned a valuable lesson. Sound like you know what you are doing at all times.

Now I have also had the opposite experiences with first impressions. I am a very simple man with very simple roots. I was raised with the belief if it’s cheap enough, it fits and you need it then you buy it when it comes to clothes. Those around me call it the poor boy mentality. I have learned that if the clothes do not fit properly no matter what you do most people will judge you in a negative way. Add in the fact I am a 70s child so I always have long hair most of the time so a lot of people assume I am some kind of party animal. An example of this is my first trip to Israel when my colleagues immediately invited me to smoke a doobie after work. No I do not do any kind of drugs, but based on a first impression people thought I did.

On the opposite end of the spectrum I have witnessed an absolute ass get the girl because his shoes and clothes look absolutely amazing of him despite the fact the better man sitting right beside him does not have a lick of style in him. I have seen woman who are true ladies in every sense be called whores because someone thought their dress looked cheap or the big woman get over looked because her dress size is not the one that someone thought is the right size. People will always judge you on that first mere seconds of any meeting. I do it too, but life has taught me that if you can overcome that first impression you might find something wonderful. That whore might be an amazing woman who can bring something wonderful to your world, that big woman might be your soul mate and the guy dressed in cheap suit might be a millionaire. No that is not me, but the guy that owned the company my father used to work for wore overalls and rubber boots like most farmers. Even in the 80s he was worth a million dollars and was an eligible bachelor. Many woman who complained that there were no nice guys left did not take the time to get to know him. Outside of work he wrote poetry, traveled the world and owned houses in seven different countries. He married a simple waitress not because he was the prettiest or fit into a predefined dress size, but because she took the time to get to know him and laughed at his jokes. She took the time to look past the first impression and discovered that he offered a little bit of everything that she wanted and he found the mother of his children, companion for those long adventures exploring the world and the heart of a poet who wrote her I love you’s constantly.

Remember that award girl from high school who became a fashion model (yes I am sure it happens) or that nerdy guy that became a body builder and both appear to have been sculpted by the gods. It’s the person who forgot their first impression of them that and kept the second and third impression of them that brought something to their life and enjoyed the experience of knowing them year after year.

There is power in setting the right first impression, but even more strength in looked past it and finding the hidden second impression.