Tag Archives: author

13 to go…then a giveaway!

So I have 87 blog followers. I’ve had this blog for a bit over a year and this is exciting to me. I’m not on it as much as I would like. Life gets in the way but 87 people reading my words is amazing. So I thought why not have a giveaway when I reach 100! It’s gonna be sweet. It will be my first giveaway. Nothing too fancy. Just a little token of my appreciation.  Will post contest as soon as that 100 followers pops up so tell your friends to follow so we can get the party started!!


Pink sang it best!

Time For Some Non-Fiction Perhaps


Letters to Kyle

So I had a new book idea. It will be non fiction. My first one. I got the idea after I had starting writing letters to a guy I was talking to after he left the area. In them are all the things I wanted to say but didn’t have the words to say face to face so I started writing him letters. Letters he will never see. Letters that show him all of me and not just the outside. These letters express my deepest desires and fears. It’s kind of like a diary but instead of talking to myself I’m talking to him. I’m debating if it’s something I would want to share with the world. It’s a true account inside my head and the things I’m constantly daydreaming about because my mind is always playing out some future scenario. I can’t seem to shut it off. I guess that’s one of the side effects of having a creative mind. Maybe idk I just made that up. Anyway it’s only ten letters so far and I’m not sure how many I will write since we barely talk anymore anyway and I really need to work on moving on anyway. I mean is it creepy to write letters to a guy you’re no longer close to anyway? I guess these things can’t be rushed. Feelings and emotions have a mind all their own. No one knows the moment when words no longer have a hold on your heart. I like the concept of an in depth look into how my mind works regardless. I may be the future Psychologist in me. I’m always thinking. I constantly live my life in the fiction, what if, scenarios. It’s high time I plant my feet firmly on the ground and join the living. I can fantasize all day but perhaps taking a leap into the non-fiction side of writing could be fun. I already do it with poetry anyway since that’s as real as my writing can get. My poetry is an extension of me anyway. I’ll leave you with my favorite Starbucks drink.


Passion Fruit Tea Lemonade
Passion Fruit Tea Lemonade

I just wanted to know my future!!

Week After 29th Bday

For weeks I had contemplated going to a psychic for a reading. I looked in the yellow pages for a place near by. Saw a name and a number but no address. So I put the thought out of my mind. A few weeks go by and I finally take my background check paperwork to the local big brother big sister place but instead of going back the way I came to go home (I’m the worse with directions). I use my phone to find they faster right because I’m not that far away and I would have taken much longer getting home going back the way I came. So I’m driving home and I see the sign for the psychic I found in the yellow pages. I call no answer so I head home but she calls me back and can see me that day. I believe it is a sigh that I need to go here. So for $80 dollars she reads my life in a crystal ball. Some of the intuition was spot on. She needs to meditate on what she saw in the ball. $200 will supply what she needs. Ok I’m intrigued. She has me write something for her at home and has me bring it back the next day. I do she reveals more of the story as she sees it. Ok I’m confused and don’t really know what to think. She tells me to speak of my reading to no one. That’s cool it’s my business. She has me write again and bring her an object from my past because apparently I’ve been cursed as a small child and she needs to meditate some more. Ok. I bring it back the next day. This time she tells me I need to put water in a clear jar. Shower with it in the bathroom. Put 9 $50 bills arranged in a cross over the top and secure it. Wrap the jar in a black shirt and put it under my bed and bring it to her during lunch time. Pause. By this time I’m like that’s $450 dollars of my money that she wants me to just drop off at her house to lift a curse I’m not even sure I believe exists. No. I don’t call her anymore. She told me she was doing GOD’s work. Mm sure. After I didn’t call she called me. I didn’t answer and needless to say I haven’t heard from her since. If she was doing someone else’s work why did she give up contacting me so easily? I mean she didn’t even leave a message. Now don’t get me wrong I believe in the impossible but I just was no longer feeling it. After you’re told you won’t take money for the Lord’s work you only needed it for the meditation materials then turn around three days later and think I was going to drop a jar of water with $450 wrapped around it to you…are you serious??

Did she says some things that got me thinking? Yes. Was it worth more of my money? No. I just wanted to know my future. Not hear about a voodoo black magic curse some jealous person from my past had placed on me as a small child. WTF? Who does that anyway? Placing curses on children because you don’t want them to shine or whatever other whack job reason you tell yourself. I read somewhere that curses can only hold power over you if you believe them to be true and other places say they don’t exist. Just like with everything in this world there is someone for and against the argument. Personally I think people want such things to be real. I don’t know what I believe but I knew I wasn’t taking that jar with pretty much half of my paycheck wrapped around it anywhere. I had things to do and bills to pay.

But seriously I will never forget the words spoken to me when she described how the curse was place nor will I ever speak them out loud as long as I live. So days and memories just stay with you and that is one that will forever be with me. Moral of the story: No one really needs to know their future. You may hear some really messed up stuff.

How to know when it’s time to let go?

This is the question I find myself asking a lot lately. Whether it’s a friendship no matter how long or short or a guy/girl you’re talking to. How much do you put up with? How long do you put up with it? I guess it’s not an easy answer. It depends on the individual and the situation. Nothing is ever black or white. It’s not even shades of grey. It’s reds, blues, or greens thrown in there too. What do you say to the person who doesn’t want to talk to you? Do you just let a relationship just go out like a candle or do you try? What does is say about you if you do nothing? Are you giving up or are you moving on? Like love and hate the line could be considered pretty thin. Why try to hold on to something that wants to be set free. Mariah Carey sang “wild horses run unbridled or their spirit dies”. When you’re younger you listen to music but sometimes you don’t really understand what’s being said until you live a little more and you come to certain crossroads in your own life that it clicks. No one wants to be known as the person who clipped someone else’s wings. Stood in the way of their dreams. So you let them go even when it hurts to breathe and the mention of their name still manages to bring you to your knees.

So you delete the number out of your phone to keep yourself from sending stupid messages or calling because you’ve had one too many drinks but it still doesn’t fill the hole in your heart. Everything else pales in comparison next to them and everything else seems second best. You can’t be around certain things because it reminds you of the pain. I know what you’re saying, “There are more important things in the world to worry about” but no one knows your struggles but you. Heartbreak can incapacitate just as easily as any physical ailment. The heart and mind can lead the body to places we didn’t think we can go. People can sometimes keep going when their bodies want to stop but not so much when your mind and heart are wanting to quit.

What’s with all these books being turned into movies?

My book collection part 1
My book collection part 1
There is nothing in the world worse then taking one of my favorite books and turning it into some mainstream bullshit movie that has nothing to do with the book. Where they do that at? Yea I’m a very visual person. It’s the best way for me to learn but sometimes I’d rather go with the vision I have of a story coming to life then to go pay $10+ for some watered down cookie cutter version that doesn’t stay true to the original story. I mean are we running out of original movie ideas? If we aren’t remaking something that’s already been done, we’re ruining a great book by turning it into a horrible movie. On the one hand, I’m crazy excited when a book makes it to the big screen if I haven’t read the book first.  If I’ve read the book I have expectations and when those expectations fall short I’m left feeling empty and upset. I get that you can’t do a long book justice with a two hour movie but come on!! What about staying true to the authors voice? Do they no longer matter? Do they not get a say?
I guess that’s why I haven’t been to the movies lately. I did go see The Mortal Instruments when it came out. I have yet to read the book and I don’t know if I will. It may ruin the movie for me more than it was already ruined in itself. I found myself saying WTF is going on a lot of the time I was watching it but the book could fill in the gaps. Decisions, decisions?

Incoherent Nonsense


What makes a good poem? Does it need to rhyme? Should it mean something to you? These are the questions I ask myself every time I write a poem. Well those are the questions I used to ask myself anytime I wrote a poem. Then I stopped caring if it rhymed or made sense to anyone that wasn’t me. I stopped worrying about what made a poem good and just wrote what was in my heart at the time. Why I can write a poem better with a battered heart than when I’m content in my feelings? That I may never have the answer to. If I just wanted to sit and write a poem it’s hard and I find I have nothing to say but in that moment when you feel like your world is crashing down all around you the words come from some place deep within your soul that you didn’t even know existed until this moment. The moment when your heart was open, raw, exposed in such a way that you didn’t want anyone to see. But instead of shielding your heart away you show it along with your soul to anyone would would listen in words. Not actions but words. Words are powerful alone but together they can be unstoppable. Words have the power to turn a bad day good and a good day bad. Writing the words of my heart places a balm to my soul. It’s uplifting and helps ease what was broken. It helps cleanse me of the emotion by putting it on paper. If written correctly if can cause the emotion again when read later. It will bring up the memory of those words and make you feel again what you felt when you wrote it. It this a good thing? Sometimes it is because if I can’t feel the same emotion I was feeling when I originally wrote it then I didn’t capture it correctly. Why am I rambling on about a bunch of nonsense? Well it’s because I can’t write. I’ve been trying the last two days. I’ve got nothing. Tried to finish a poem that’s pretty much almost finished and I’m at a loss for the words. I remember why I was writing it but don’t know how to close it. It’s quite annoying. I did manage to write a bit on the follow up to my first novel but it’s not the same as poetry. I wanted to get back into it. It was my first love when I started writing after journaling. Now it’s like I can’t do it unless I feel like my heart is being ripped out of my chest. I want to do it when I’m happy and not just when I’m sad. They say “practice makes perfect”, but how am I supposed to practice writing when it’s so emotionally based for me? Writing without the emotion doesn’t seem real to me. It just seems like I’m trying to make everything rhyme, because good poetry doesn’t necessarily have to rhyme. It just has to have emotion. Atleast that’s my opinion anyway.

The Day My Heart Beat Stilled

Picture I made on my iPad of a forest at night
Picture I made on my iPad of a forest at night


The feeling you get when some days are better than others… Well that’s how I would describe my writing. Some days I won’t write anything and others if I don’t write anything I feel like I could explode with all the things I need to say. This is what was going on when I wrote this poem. It was all in my feelings and instead of sitting in the corner crying and feeling sorry for myself, why not just write the words on paper. Sometimes that makes the emotions seem to real and like that day really happened and now you can’t block it out because you’ve put words to memory. Now when you look at this thing that you have written you will remember why you wrote it in the first place. I am a writer. It’s what I do. I write. It’s the only time where I can completely say what it is I’m trying to say without wondering if I explained it well enough. I’m not a fan of too much emotion but there’s so much emotion in my writing. Maybe the problem is I don’t show enough emotion when I’m not writing. It’s just easier to express emotion when I’m writing versus day-to-day life. Anyway here is a poem I wrote last night.

Cold and lonely
The day my heart beat stilled
Even the kindest words cut deep
The day my heart beat stilled
Images of your perfect face
The day my heart beat stilled
Never fail to bring tears to my eyes
The day my heart beat stilled
I can still here your voice calling out to me
The day my heart beat stilled
About what a great girl I am
The day my heart beat stilled
And how you don’t want to be tied down
The day my heart beat stilled
But what I heard where the things you didn’t say
The day my heart beat stilled
They lies you forgot you told me
The day my heart beat stilled
But every word I will always remember
They day my heart beat stilled
But in the end I’m stronger
Because my heart beats still

Echoes Of A Lonely Heart

Posted this a couple weeks back. Finally found the words to finish it. My poetry always seems to take on a tortured theme. Oh well.

I’m standing in this open place
Wishing you would share a space with me
Close as can be
But yet so far away from me
I just want to hold your hand
But all you did was pull away from me
I reach out my hand to touch your face
But you slap my hand away
I go to stand right next to you
But you quickly walk away
What did I do to make you act this way
Was it maybe something I said or did
Doing my best to ease the pain
That starts to spread inside me
My heart begins to slow its beat
From the mental and physical ways you’ve pushed me aside
My soul tries to reach out to yours
With no answer in return
And all I hear around me
Are the echoes of my lonely heart

Great Wood Work

Plaque Poem

A friend of mine Jessica is making these lovely wood plaques. She makes them in all shapes and sizes with just about anything you can think of. This is the one she did for me of my poem “Dance The Dance”. I am in love with this beautiful rendition of art work. My poem seems so much more amazing than it really is. If you want to see more of her work or to request a piece done for yourself her Facebook page link is https://www.facebook.com/pages/Rumph-Rustic-Designs/619291941425515. Go over and like her page and check out her other works.

Cover Art

Well I still don’t have a cover for my book. Don’t really know where to start to get one either. Guess I’ll have to keep looking. Also working on more poetry and book 2 in Dark Indiscretions serious. Also started another work in progress but have no idea where it’s going. Only written one paragraph so far. Taking three classes and working full time doesn’t leave a lot of creative room in my busy schedule. Will have to take a bit of time this weekend to write a bit.