Inside the Mind of Cyrus A. Webb

This innovative, entrepreneur has found a love for literature that has parlayed into several media outlets. Using his voice as an advocate for authors via his blogtalkradio program, Conversations LIVE, and Conversations Magazines Mr. C.A. Webb demonstrates his love for the written word. His virtual and physical book clubs water Cyrus' thirst for literary conversations. An interview with Cyrus A. Webb reveals his candid look at books, publishing and authorship. This delightful young brother is someone to watch.

PBL: How did you come up with an idea for a virtual book club? Is the art of physical book clubs dying?
CAW:  Patrice, I don't think physical book clubs are dying. In fact Conversations Book Club started in November 2006 with physical meetings and we still have them. The virtual book club actually came about as an extension so that others can join in the experience. We allow those around the world that want to be a part of the conversation to join us by phone and online. It makes for a more impactful discussion for sure, because you are able to get so many points of view. The internet has been a friend of readers, but to me nothing takes the place of sitting down with others to talk about a book.
PBL: What makes you such an advocate for literature?
CAW: Books have always been a friend of mine. Growing up I didn't have a lot of people I gravitated towards. Books introduced me to various characters and personalities and opportunities to learn about the world around me. When I finally started to travel, thanks to books I had a better idea of the places I was visiting. 3. What type of literature appeals to you most? I really like it all, but over the past few years I have been drawn more to non-fiction because I know that people sharing personal experiences with the world will help others going through similar situations. I use those kind of books to share with others to let them know they are not alone. Fiction can do the same thing in some ways, but there is something about the truth that resonates more with others.
PBL: When do you know that a particular title is going to satisfy your literary needs?
CAW: Sometimes I honestly don't! I have picked up some books that I thought would be great reads for me, and they ended up a struggle to finish. Others that I didn't think I would like ended up being some of my favorites. I think of the selection of books out there like a never-ending buffet. You just have to try something to see if you like it. You can't always tell by what it looks like.
PBL: In this age of technology do you find that eBooks are more popular than any other form of literature?
CAW: They might be more popular to some, but the hard copy remains my preferred choice. I get that for some the ease of carrying around lots of books on an electronic device is appealing, but there is nothing like cracking opening a book and having it in your hands.
PBL: What was the pivotal point in your life that made you want to become an advocate for authors? CAW: I would say it was meeting authors that might not be nationally known but who had such a powerful story that I felt it had to be shared. I've long dismissed the idea that only the best authors are picked up by the major houses. Sometimes it is the undiscovered authors out there that have a gift that just hasn't been discovered yet. That's why I do it. Everyone deserves to be heard.
PBL: What would you say to a writer struggling to become published?
CAW: Don't rush it and definitely don't take unnecessary risks. There are so many ways today to get your book out. Make sure it is the best product it can be, and if you can't get anyone to believe enough in it, then publish it yourself. Do your research either way, though. I've found some of these companies don't have the author's best interest in mind. Just don't give up. I read over 100 books a year, over half of them are self-published..and they're good! Don't let anyone stop you from pursuing your dream of being published.
PBL: Have you ever had to tell a writer that their work just wasn't good? If so, how did you tell them?
CAW: I made a role years ago that I would never EVER write a negative review. There's enough of that crap floating around the internet that I didn't think that was something I wanted to do. If I read a book that I felt wasn't for me, I may send the author an email or if they ask me my thoughts I'll tell them. What I learned though is that not all books are for everyone.
PBL: What is the most important thing you can say to an author?
CAW: Tell the story you have inside you the way you want to tell it, but don't expect overnight success. You have to work hard and dedicate yourself to it as you would anything else worth pursuing. Take advantage of all avenues available to you to get the word out about your book when published. If you are true to the craft and do your part, you'll be a success.

Thoughts at 5:25AM

We are living in perilous times. Men have become lovers of themselves more than of God. It is easy to see as we look about the world in which we live. The selfishness prevails as those who feel they are in authority vigorously exert their will over others. It is sickening and causes this writer to wonder what in the world is going on? Fathers are against sons and daughters against mothers. But what we overlook is that it is not always the natural fathers that overlook their natural sons. It is the man in the street who boasts of a disdain for the young brothers who seem to not have it together. The matriarchs that shake their heads at young women who have not adequately developed their sense of style. These elders would just as soon turn up their nose at a young man who passes them wearing the street gear of the day. Can you sir, look past the exterior of the young man's attempt at self expression and say hello. Have we become so afraid of one another that it is difficult to look our brother in the eye and affirm him.

Many fatherless men don't have a clue as to what manhood looks like. They turn to the fictionalized examples of manhood displayed in media. These young men see the absence of the father not only in their home but in the community as well. These communities being overrun with women and their children causes the onlooker to see a type of community that screams out dysfunction.

Out of necessity woman has become the wherewithal for wayward souls who have lost out on a heritage deplete of nurture and concern. The toll this seemingly takes on some women is more than they can bear and a trend towards aggression and duality of purpose sets in.

The innocence of little boys is reflected in their voice when they eagerly say, “I don't have a daddy, but when I grow up I'm going to be a daddy.” As heartbreaking as this seems something within this child lets us feel that he must be protected at all costs, in order to become that daddy that will not leave his child.

On my reading list this summer is a book by author Pat Tucker, Daddy by Default. Although Ms. Tucker's title suggests that sometimes some men are trapped in caring for a child they actually didn't father. It is also this writer's hope that within these pages discovery of the secret behind the dilemma of too many fatherless children will be revealed.

The question becomes how does a nation re-adjust itself to one of purpose and responsibility for our youth? Will the true patriarchs stand up and take your stance to integrate the fatherless into the villages that produce good and upstanding young citizens . Let it begin with a handshake and an affirmation that all men can be great.

I've just learned that my publisher, Passionate Writer Publishing is competing for a small business award. Please log onto www.missionsmallbusiness.com and vote. Please tell your networks to vote for Passionate Writer Publishing.

After five weeks of radiation I was finally done, today was the last day. I had been served by some great health care professionals. The smiles and pleasantries of these professionals made it worth my while to drive into town every day for treatment. I met quite a few others with similar health issues. We bonded while sharing our individual stories. Today I met the lady whose ipad I had found in the waiting room a few weeks ago and returned the next day. She thanked me for returning it explaining how upset she had been to have lost it. I saw the doctor, got my final treatment, a nice certificate of completion and was out of there. Graduating was sweet. But the day hadn't started out so sweet. At my GP's office I wouldn't be seen because I had forgotten my co-payment. Oh well, blame it on the insurance companies. The receptionist told me my doctor would work me in the next day. To that I said, “I don't think so. You see this therapy I'm taking drains me and I don't want to sit in this waiting room waiting to get worked in.” I left after speaking to the nurse telling her to make sure the doctor knew I had been there for my appointment and I would see her in four months. Although I forgot to put the check in my purse to pay for my co-payment , I left the GP's office with a sour taste in my mouth. I had been a patient there for over seven years. But I guess rules were rules. This particular medical network was very strict. I found in another instance that after my insurance paid for x-rays the balance that was not paid by insurance was sold to a “zombie” company. This was getting to be too much. The visit I had with the radiation department at the other hospital made up for the irritation I felt at my general practioner's office. The professionals in radiation were empathetic to my needs, where as the general practioner's office didn't seem to have a clue about making people feel comfortable. I wondered if it were even necessary to see the general practioner since I was being treated by so many other doctors. You won't have to worry about me and my missing co-payment.

Testimony an Excerpt from The Butterfly Journal

"I will never leave you nor forsake you." The words from Joshua 1:5 leapt off the pages of my bible. The flood of emotions were real and caused me to understand that although the past seven years had been tumultuous The Lord was showing mercy and love toward me. Everyday now was becoming a blessing. But, in the midst of our trials my husband was diagnosed with prostate cancer. His surgery and subsequent treatments went well and he was able to return to work in a few weeks. Thank God for insurance! Other than his health we did not discuss our other concerns with the church. As pastor, he continued to lead by example and continued to give from his income, giving tithes and offering and sometimes paying the mortgage on the church were decisions about which he appeared not to waiver. Our beautiful dream home was dust in the wind. The mortgage crisis took its toll and collectively we began to lose everything. Moving to a three bedroom apartment in a gated community was a no brainer. It was beautiful and would turn out to be a financial blessing. A rent reduction after a year and another as I became the after school tutor for the community children made this an affordable place to live. I had stopped substitute teaching and devoted my time to the after school program. As the complex grew, societal issues of loud neighbors, fighting, theft, gunshots made me long for the solitude of my own space again. This nice segue to home living after four years of apartment living minimized my fears about the future. We were on our way to recovery. The only one complaining was the son who did not have wheels. No buses drove through this community as before at the dream home. While unpacking boxes I reminisced the past. It was coming to a close but not quick enough. Health issues caused me to seek professionals to first discover the condition of my joints. That settled, another issue crept up causing me to seek the advice of my regular gynecologist. The dreaded "C" word entered our conversation after she had done an extensive exploratory in that region of my body. One exploratory and one surgery later we thought we got most of the cancer that had begun to develop in my uterus. My attitude toward this new challenge was that it too would pass. There were reasons that I had developed endometrial cancer; obeisity and heredity. We had lost one sister to cancer, another was battling breast cancer and now me. Feeling sorry for myself was not an option. I had too many instructions from the Lord to go out without fulfilling them. Everyday I could feel myself growing stronger. I continued to write; my blogs were inspirational and never mentioned my health. Editing my first book for revision occupied a great deal of time, attending the new church with a great pastor and wonderful brothers and sisters in the Lord invigorated my walk with Him. In the midst of this all I was excited about the new possibilities that were overtaking me. I was emerging as a writer, a motivator an inspiration to my sister networks. Thankful, grateful and a receipient of new mercies I am filled with joy. Confession and forgiveness of my sins allowed me to grow in Christ. Finding the important things and people in my life also showed me the reason for this trial. As I payed attention I began to see that I had to let more people into my secure little box of self-dependence. In so doing Christ would shine through me and draw more people to Him. At the right place and season I would declare, "Butterfies are free!" "There shall not any man be able to stand before thee all the days of thy life: as I was with Moses, so I will be with thee: I will not fail thee, nor forsake thee." Joshua 1:5

Favor is Fair

It's 3:30AM and I have been awakened by the screeching noise of the smoke alarm. If I had been more alert to detect the difference in cigeratte smoke and food burning on the stove smoke I would have gotten out of bed and checked long before the siren blarred. I will not name the culprit of this hazard in order to protect the guilty.

After excitedly calling fire, fire my husband and I rushed to the kitchen to see what was happening. The house was filled with nasty, smelly smoke and on the stove was a smoking pot and somebody was asleep in front of the television. We began to open doors and check the fuse box for the panel that would shut off the alarms. Thank God we had put fresh batteries in all of the detectors.

Memories of my childhood are awakened as I smell this smoke and I think of my Big Mama's house that burned down one day. Mama's house was the central home for family gatherings and sometimes my mom would let me spend the night with mama. Losing this safe haven was like losing a precious refuge.

Thinking about mama, God rest her soul, I remember one evening sitting on the floor in the living room watching one of my favorite shows. Mama and my mother were in another room talking and doing hair. They had opened the windows to let the fumes of pomade meeting a hot comb escape. The breeze from the summer night felt good as I sat with my ebows resting on my knees and hands under my chin as the images of cowboys played across the screen.

From my peripherial I could see a shadow. I turned from my show to see a man's head and shoulders coming through the window. "Mama, mama!" I screamed. "Mama, mama a man is coming in the window!" My grandmother came rushing into the room with her thick broom and went straight for the man's head. She yelled to my mom, "Will get the gun, get the gun."

That man hurried back out of the window and onto the enclosed porch, out the door and down the steps. My mother came in to the room empty handed looking to see the excitement and my grandmother rushing out to the porch. I don't know what she would have done if she had caught the man and he turned on her. Stunned, I was not able to cry or move. I couldn't tell my mother anything. When my grandmother came back in the house she looked at me and asked if I were okay. I was fine and happy that she had come to the rescue.

My mother waited for an explanation and when it was given she asked her mother, "why did you tell me to get the gun? You know you don't have a gun."

"That was the first thing that popped in my head. It must have been the Lord." My grandmother said.

What the man had in mind is still a mystery to me. I can't help but think now that maybe he would have kidnapped me or beat me or any other vile thing that evil men do to children. From my perspective, perhaps he thought I was home alone. It was the grace of God that saved us that day, just as He saved us this morning from a near fire. Favor with God is fair!

I had to laugh at myself this morning when I pulled out my juicer from under the cabinet. It had been sitting there collecting dust, greasy dust for a few months. This nice little invention hadn't been used in almost six months. After we moved from the apartment I decided I would start using it again. As I washed and cleaned up the parts I thought I should try the on switch to make sure the motor was still running. Now everything was in working order so I placed a few slices of tomatoe in the cavity and bam here comes the juice. Flowing all over the counter I reached for a paper towel. What I forgot was to place a glass under the spout to catch the juice. Picture me in a paper towel commercial. The things we forget when we don't practice is a reminder to practice the things we don't want to forget. Bon appetite`.