Talking Fingers #OurAuthorGang

Look, I Can Talk With My Fingers!

When I was a young child we were having a family dinner in a restaurant. I remember watching a couple at the next table and I was mesmerized by what they were doing. They smiled at each other, their facial expression changed rapidly as they moved their lips but they didn't make any sound. They moved their hands and fingers as if they were doing a well-choreographed dance.

My mother touched my arm and whispered to me, "You know it's rude to stare at people, right?"

"What are they doing?" I whispered back.

"They're talking to each other."

"No, mom," I argued. "They're not saying anything."

"They're deaf," mom explained. "They can't hear, so they're talking to each other with sign language."

"Why can't they hear?"

"Some deaf people are born that way and others get sick and lose their hearing."

"Why can't the doctor fix it?"

"Well, some people are not completely deaf and they can use a hearing aid, but others can't be fixed so they learn sign language to talk to each other."

I will never forget the mixed feelings that swirled in my mind and I kept asking my parents about what deafness might feel like. When we got home mom handed me two cotton balls and said, "Put these in your ears if you want to find out what it feels like."

I did and it scared me that all I could hear was my heartbeat in my head. I saw my dog moving his mouth but I couldn't hear his voice. My cat swatted at him with mouth wide open but I couldn't hear her angry hiss. It felt awful, I felt alone in the silent world and removed the cotton balls quickly.

My parents always said, "You don't know what other people are going through until you walk in their shoes, so when I was older, I wanted to "walk in a deaf person's shoes" and decided to live in silence for an entire day.

I put swimmer's earplug in my ears that blocked even the loudest sounds. It felt awful not to hear the everyday sounds that I always took for granted. After about an hour I started to feel a little claustrophobic as well and I couldn't keep the plugs in for more than a couple of hours.

These experiences inspired my first children's book. The story is about a compassionate and clever little girl who found the way to communicate with her hearing impaired grandmother.

Click on this link to read a few pages from the book:

http://online.flipbuilder.com/qvwg/mceq/

Find this book in your favorite store:
https://books2read.com/u/4jKZP2

Order a signed paperback in my BOOKSTORE

This book is also published in Spanish, click to read pages from the book

http://online.flipbuilder.com/qvwg/ylyq/

Find this book in your favorite store:

https://books2read.com/u/3neQ2K

Order a signed paperback in my BOOKSTORE

One of my friends purchased the book for her niece and she sent me a picture of her husband and his friend. Watch the short video with a heartwarming message.

The history of sign language

I've found this very informative website about the history of sign language. It's so sad how badly deaf people were treated before it was understood what being deaf means.

"Early in human history, humans used simple sign language to express basic ideas. Even when vocal communication became the mainstream form of interaction, people would still use hand and facial gestures to enhance ideas in communication. When people were found to be deaf in ancient times, they were often persecuted and mistreated; therefore, deaf people were not given the chance to work on creating a language. This lasted until the 1500's Pedro Ponce de Leon, a Benedictine monk, created his own form of sign language to bypass his "vow of silence". This form of sign language may have been then taught to deaf children later on. In 1620, Juan Pablo Bonet wrote a sign language dictionary that outlined how to learn sign language and contained the first sign language alphabet. His sign language alphabet later influenced deaf communication when the first schools for the deaf were opened. In addition, Martha's Vineyard was an area that was settled by about 200 immigrants who carried dominant and recessive genes for deafness, so the inhabitants came up with their own kind of sign language and taught their descendants how to learn sign language."

If interested, read more on this website:

http://www.deafwebsites.com/sign-language/history-sign-language.html 

Sometimes we need a reminder to enjoy more that we can see, hear, smell, touch and move freely without restrictions and limitations. It makes us understand a little better what others, who can't enjoy this freedom, must go through.

How did it make you feel when you met the first deaf person?

COMMENTS

Erika M Szabo via Google+

1 year ago  -  Shared publicly

 

A nice post about sign language

+

1
2
1

 

 · 

Reply

Cristina Grau via Google+

1 year ago  -  Shared publicly

 

A nice informative article about sign language.

 

 · 

Reply

Joe Bonadonna via Google+

1 year ago  -  Shared publicly

 

Today on A Small Gang of Authors, author, illustrator and publishing consultant Erika M. Szabo talks about very special subject: "signing," and how she came to write her children's book, "Look, I Can Talk With My Fingers."
https://asmallgangofauthors.blogspot.com/2017/06/talking-fingers-ourauthorgang.html

+

1
2
1

 

 · 

Reply

Mackenzie Flohr

1 year ago

 

A wonderful written article. When I was younger a classmate of mine taught me how to sign the alphabet. I later learned a cousin in the family was deaf, which I honestly never knew because she had learned how to talk similarly to Helen Keller.

Erika M Szabo

1 year ago

 

Thank you Mackenzie! A lot of deaf people read lips and learn to talk very clearly. I met a young woman and I thought she spoke with a nice accent, but when I started talking and she watched my lips instead of making eye contact. That's when I realized that she was deaf.

Firetulip

1 year ago

 

Hearing impairment can come in many forms. I known of one girl who wasn't actually deaf, she could hear perfectly, but she suffered with Auditory Processing Disorder. Something between her hear and what her brain processed wasn't working and language came to her as a gibberish. she was in the regular school up until grade 7 or so, but she relayed too much on sign language that they had to put her into a special school to learn how to read lips and pick up on other non-verbal cues. With the Cochlear implants less hearing impaired people relay on sing language. I'm glad you put yourself or at least tired, in those shoes. I suffer from Tinnitus in my right ear and all I hear is humming all the time in that ear, but if the music is louder than the low hum, I can hear it just fine. It's a blessing in disguise because if there is any kind of noise I turn on my good ear and I block the sounds and can go to sleep. Doesn't work on my husband's snoring though.

Read more

Erika M Szabo

1 year ago

 

There are so many types of hearing impairment, the link I added is a great website to find information. Sorry you suffer with tinnitus and it's great that you can look at it on the bright sire :) My father snored, and when I was a young kid, I could hear him from two doors down behind closed doors. Now I know he must have had sleep apnea, but he was never diagnosed.

Mary Anne Yarde

1 year ago

 

Fantastic post, Erika. Very insightful and a wonderful concept for a book. In the UK there is a BBC children's program called 'Something Special', which teaches basic sign language to children under 7.

Erika M Szabo

1 year ago

 

Thank you Mary Anne! That's a wonderful program! Maybe there is one in the US too, I don't watch TV often

T.C. Rypel

1 year ago

 

Wonderful concept that combines compassionate understanding with a commercial, niche-market practical function. Kudos for this creation, with a special thumbs-up for seeing and filling an overlooked literary need at the kid-lit level.

Erika M Szabo

1 year ago

 

Thank you Ted! Although this book is not about popular topic for children such as princesses and pirates, hopefully the story will deliver the message to be compassionate to others.

Joe Bonadonna

1 year ago

 

Very heart-warming indeed, Erika! Sign language was something I never learned. I grew up with a deaf kid, whose name was also Joey. He could read lips better than I can hear! "Look, I can Talk with My Fingers" is a very special book, and much-street cred to you for writing it.

Erika M Szabo

1 year ago

 

Thank you Joe! Joey was lucky and sounds like he grew up with kids who accepted his disability. Unfortunately a lot of children have to face isolation and even ridicule. Hopefully, children who read my book will have better understanding of hearing impairment and accept others who happened to be deaf.

Cristina Grau

1 year ago

 

Very nice informative post.

Erika M Szabo

1 year ago

 

Thank you Cristina!

A Small Gang of Authors: NEWS

A Small Gang of Authors: NEWS: Our author gang member's book is up for the Book of the Year award You can vote for her book on this link: https://docs.g...

The devil made me write it. #OurAuthorGang

As a child, I used to love to write.

However, due to the fact that I attended Catholic school, I was not allowed to write what I wanted to write because the nuns did not like what I wrote.

             If they asked us to write an essay about the sky, they wanted us to write something like: the sky is blue and pretty, the clouds are white and fluffy.

             I would write: as the skies turn into different shades of greys, the thunders get louder and louder as the lightning bolts dance in the sky.

             The nuns use to make me read what I wrote in front of the class. They mocked me and made fun of me in front of the whole class because I wrote nonsenses. Because the devil was inside me, making me write dark ugly sentences.

             So, I learned to write: the sky is blue and pretty, the clouds are white and fluffy, and I was praised for finally writing as a good girl should.

             Never again I wrote what I wanted to write. Never again I put down on paper my thoughts or ideas.

If people were laughing at them, why should I write them?

Nobody likes to be ridiculed, especially at our formative years.

             It took me many years to write again. Actually, it took me decades to write again. And some more years, to let somebody see what I wrote.

And now, finally, I am letting the world see what I write.

Yeah!!!

I already publish “Fulfill your dreams” in English and in Spanish “Realiza tus Sueños”.

I will be publishing “Backpacking my style” soon in English and in a not so distant future (hopefully) in Spanish “Mochileando a mi Manera”.

In the meantime, I am blogging about my six months trip through Eastern Asia in my personal blog and about this and that here. Nevertheless, I am sure I will be posting about my travels too.

English

http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B017DWXLHG

Spanish

https://www.amazon.com/dp/B01N74LJZB/

 

Do Your Characters Have A Family Tree? #OurAuthorGang

Tolkien did it, CS Lewis did it and various other authors do it, too.
In the back of their books they add all these interesting little tidbits to draw readers even deeper into their imaginary worlds. Things like a glossary, which lists a brief biography of all their characters; detailed maps of their fantasy worlds and, at times, even a genealogy.
I love genealogies.
Books series' often go through a range of characters, sometimes over generations, so seeing them all presented on one chart is a great reminder of their relationship to each other as the stories progress.
I created one for my Dantonville Legacy series and it was included as part of the back matter in the first paperback edition of Book 1, BloodGifted, but it was harder to do in the digital version, and so it didn't go in.
But, here it is now and I've included an updated version with characters from the 2nd and 3rd books.

If you want to find out more about these characters, you can start the series here - Amazon

Book Excerpt ~ The Du Lac Chronicles #Historical #Fantasy #OurAuthorGang

Would you like to have a sneak peek between the covers of The Du Lac Chronicles? Yes? Well, read on…

 

The Du Lac Chronicles 

by 

Mary Anne Yarde

A generation after Arthur Pendragon ruled, Briton lies fragmented into warring kingdoms and principalities.

Eighteen-year-old Alden du Lac ruled the tiny kingdom of Cerniw. Now he half-hangs from a wooden pole, his back lashed into a mass of bloody welts exposed to the cold of a cruel winter night. He’s to be executed come daybreak—should he survive that long.

When Alden notices the shadowy figure approaching, he assumes death has come to end his pain. Instead, the daughter of his enemy, Cerdic of Wessex, frees and hides him, her motives unclear.

Annis has loved Alden since his ill-fated marriage to her Saxon cousin—a marriage that ended in blood and guilt—and she would give anything to protect him. Annis’s rescue of Alden traps them between a brutal Saxon king and Alden’s remaining allies. Meanwhile, unknown forces are carefully manipulating the ruins of Arthur’s legacy.

Book Excerpt

AD 495 Wessex, Briton.

Alden du Lac drew in a ragged breath. The cold night air hurt his lungs, and the rough wooden post that he was tied to rubbed the wounds on his back. He had prayed for the welcomed relief of unconsciousness; alas, it was not to be. It seemed even God wanted him to suffer for his failings.

He had lost count how many times he had been lashed. All he knew was that each lash represented every Wessex soldier that had been killed by his men. Cerniw's losses had been far higher, but no one paid for their deaths. Life was never fair, though; he did not need a lost battle and hundreds dead to tell him that much.

The year had been horrendous. Cerniw, with its rugged moorlands, its vast forests and beautiful coasts, had been struck with one pestilence after another. The people started to talk about moving, and some already had. Those who had stayed loyal to the land and, of course, to him, no doubt now wished they had not, for when Cerdic's Saxons came, they purged the kingdom, making it look like the hell the bishop preached of in his Sunday sermon. Alden, unlike God, had been powerless to do anything about it. Oh yes, he had fought, but the numbers he fought against had overwhelmed his army, for who could fight the devil, without God on their side, and think to win?

 

Alden hung his head in shame, his shoulder-length dark hair falling into his face. He cursed his naivety and worse still, his arrogance. His younger brother had warned him, but he had not heeded the warning; instead, he believed the useless treaty that Cerdic of Wessex had offered him only months before. He should have seen where Cerdic was going with it then, only he had been blinded by grief, by guilt. The responsibility for what happened, therefore, was his and his alone. He knew that, and he took the blame. He deserved to be tied to a post waiting for death.

 

Alden closed his pain-filled grey eyes as the image of his homeland in flames scorched his mind. He could hear the screams, the begging for mercy, and the cries for help. He could taste the terror in the air and feel the heat of the flames. Dear God, what had he done?

He had been left with no alternative. Even now, with the clarity of hindsight, he could see no other choice. He had ridden towards the enemy, carrying the white flag of truce and hoping ⎯ sweet Lord, how he had hoped ⎯ for clemency, not for himself, but for his people.

Instead, Cerdic's soldiers had pulled him unceremoniously from his horse and taken him prisoner along with at least eighty of his kinsmen. Of their fate he was uncertain, but his was assured. If he did not die tonight from exposure then an axe awaited him at dawn. It was a terrifying thought, and he prayed to God for courage. He felt no warm, welcoming presence and he feared what all men secretly feared, that on the morrow, he would not die well.

Snow began to fall softly from the night sky, not enough to settle, just enough to plummet the temperature further. He began to shiver. He tried thinking of a warm fire and his large bed covered in thick furs. It did not help. After all, when last he saw his fort it was in flames.

“Are you still alive, du Lac?”

Alden kept his head down, pretending to be unconscious, and hoped the bastard would leave him alone to die in peace.

Draca, the guard in charge of the prisoners, was not fooled. He lived for terror and he had no intention of allowing the former ruler of Cerniw an easy death. He grabbed Alden's chin roughly and forced his head up.

Alden opened his eyes and stared with contempt at the soldier in front of him. Draca was a huge man, with a shiny bald head, tiny eyes and a big fist, whose breath stank of stale beer and his body of gone-off fish mixed horribly with the smell of fresh blood ⎯ not his own, but someone else's.

“Not quite dead yet, are you? Won't be long, though.” Draca chuckled deep in his throat. “I've never killed a King before. I'm looking forward to it…”

Links for purchase

Amazon US

Amazon UK

Or read the series for #free with

  subscription.

Thanks for reading...

Mary Anne xxx