They’re just shoes.

A prophet once said, don't tell me what a man knows or what a man says--tell me where he has traveled.

Recently, my author's group was going over the plight of a confie virgin and the fact most of us don't wear heels anymore. From what I gather, it's a toss up whether to go fashionista or save your arches. Some of it was very funny. I can say, I live my life in my sneakers and the last time I was at a conference I wasn't a fashion queen but a comfort queen. While this was all going on, I read an interesting blogpost about the necessity of sex in a story, listened to a friend tell me how some of her crit partners told her to strip out the heroine's thoughts because they thought they were unnecessary, and then when I thought my week would go quite smoothly, some man decides to walk into the Holocaust Museum and start shooting.

Shoes.

Most of us wear them. Some of us go to the bargain bin to buy them. Others have so many they need a Dewey Decimal System to catalogue all of them. In the end, they are merely footwear.

I know you are probably thinking; what does this have to do with anything? The fact is, a lot.

There is a hushed area in the Holocaust Museum where a simple pile of shoes brings most people to a halt. All are old. They are in all different shapes and sizes. Most are scuffed. None have a sheen left to the leather upper. And all those who had worn them before are dead. Victims of the Holocaust.

For me the person, those shoes represent all the lives lost and bring tears to my eyes. For me the author, they represent the stories of the people who wore them. My emotions aren't separate in the moments I stand in front of the glass partition because I am both human and a writer, in fact the feelings I suffer while staring at them make me better on both fronts.

So what does this have to do with a confie virgin, a blogpost about is sex necessary in a story and my friend who wants to rip her hair out because crit partners want her to remove her heroine's thoughts? If you are me, it's simple. The confie virgin is beginning her journey. What path her shoes take her is a part of her personal story. She may never wear them again, but they have carried her for a few short hours of her life. The blog post about is sex necessary in a story? It's a debate that impacts whoever wears the shoes. That person may be period and point blank set in their ways but by participating they have then affected other shoe wearers. The followers may not get much out of the blog post, but the point is they responded. It tells me about where they are in their journey. To the last, the writer who is told to remove her heroine's perceptions, it ties up all the points. When a character thinks, they are adding something to the story. In a way, they are walking in a fresh pair of sneakers and the reader has the benefit of spending time in their mind and following them to the end of the journey.

To the man who pulled a gun within the hushed and hallowed walls of the Holocaust Museum, perhaps you should spend some time looking at a pile of shoes while doing some deep soul searching. I may never understand the journey you took to get to this point, but I come across something my mother used to say. Any man filled with hate walks with a heavy step.

This blog post is dedicated to Security Guard, Stephen Tyrone Johns whose journey was ended by James W. von Brunn at the Holocaust Museum on June 10^th, 2009. All the Royal Blush Authors send their deepest condolences to his family and all who knew him. He was a true hero.

Until next time, cheers and happy writing,

T.J.

www.tethysjkillian.com

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