Have you ever felt like too much was going on and you just couldn't handle anything more? Or maybe someone has bothered you so much that you avoid them as much as you can, but they still keep coming back. David felt that way in Faith Blum's short story, Faith is the Victory, and she's here today to tell us more about her book.
About the Book
Winning story in Perry Elisabeth Design’s short story contest.
I don’t like change. I know most people get used to it, but I have never been able to. When Dad announced their move and I couldn’t go with them, I didn’t handle it well. Would I ever find the faith to be victorious?
Content warning: A character does attempt suicide, so please read with caution.
About the Author
Faith Blum started writing at an early age. She started even before she could read! She even thought she could write better than Dr. Seuss. (The picture doesn’t show it well, but there are scribblings on the page of Green Eggs and Ham). Now that she has grown up a little more, she knows she will probably never reach the success of Dr. Seuss, but that doesn’t stop her from trying.
When she isn’t writing, Faith enjoys doing many right-brained activities such as reading, crafting, playing piano, and playing games with her family. One of her dreams is to visit Castle City, Montana. She currently lives on a hobby farm with her family in Wisconsin.
There are many ways to connect with Faith online. All of them can be found in one convenient place: http://FaithBlum.com. On her website you can find links to her various social media sites and both of her blogs.
This book doesn’t have much to do with Faith is the Victory, but if you like Westerns or stories about mail order brides, you might just like this novella. And it’s written by Faith Blum.
My dad is the manager at a big department store, and I think he does a great job. You can probably guess what Mom’s job is. A few years ago, I saw a neat job title for what she does and have told her a few times that she should get a diploma made up or something. The title is: Research Associate in the field of Child Development and Human Relations. Pretty neat, don’t you think?
During my high school years, I had the opportunity to take a couple of math classes at the local high school. With my interest in engineering, I needed some higher math that Mom wasn’t comfortable teaching me. While there, I got teased quite a bit for only attending a few classes, but could ignore that. What was harder to ignore was Carl Matthews. He was a senior when I was a sophomore and loved to rub it in that he was athletic and I was a nerd. I tried to ignore him, too, but he wouldn’t let me.
One thing about me. I stutter when I’m nervous or scared, so I try to avoid situations where I might become one or the other. Or I just don’t talk which has also worked well. When Carl talked to me, I ignored him and got labeled the most unfriendly, unsociable kid in school. I tried not to care, but every name drove deep down into me, hurting me more and more until for once, I couldn’t wait for school to end.
Three years passed and I’d just started attending the local community college to get a degree in Engineering. I planned to go to the community college until I could afford to transfer to a better one in a year or two. My first day of classes started out great! My professors were helpful and I learned quite a bit from them, even just after one day.
Everything was perfect until one of the older students ran into me. I tried to avoid him, but it didn’t work and all of my books flew around the sidewalk.
“Watch where you’re going!” he yelled. “What are you? A clumsy fool?”
I gulped when I saw the size of him. Then I recognized him. This was the star quarterback for the college football team and the most popular guy at school. “I’m s-s-sorry. I tried to s-s-stay out of your way, but—”
Carl burst out laughing. “What’s the matter? Can’t s-s-say your s’s? What’s your name?” He paused. “Wait, you look familiar. Aren’t you the mute kid from high school?”
My face burned. He had remembered. I knelt down to pick up my books and muttered, “David Conyers.”
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