So many ideas, so little time. I can’t even begin to predict how the next several months will go, but I have high hopes and several things I’d like to accomplish. For starters, my second book, Sunlight, Coffee & Roses (SC&R for short), has turned into something totally different from what I had initially thought it’d be. Instead of a collection of short stories, it is blossoming more into a novel. I went through a serious period of writer’s block, especially after I finished Reflection in the Music. Then again, I’m not sure I’d call it writer’s block. I was just tired. The experience of writing and self-publishing was more emotionally and mentally and physically draining than I had anticipated. Add to that my everyday responsibilities and I had to take a step back from working on my second book and even updating this blog as frequently—I never stopped writing, though. What’s funny is I’ve had ideas for all types of poems, short stories and other books, but couldn’t seem to sort out my thoughts for SC&R. I had a deadline that I set for myself to finish this book last November, but as it is April, I’ll just take my precious time and aim for mid-summer. That seems like an appropriate time for a title such as Sunlight.
Hello to my beloved readers! My post frequency so far this month hasn’t been on the same level as previous months, but I’ll continue to post new material at least weekly. In my self-publishing/blogging journey so far, I have learned so much and taken on more than I realized I was capable of handling. I spent a considerable amount of time promoting my blog before I published Reflection in the Music, but when it came time to really start pushing and focusing on the book, the majority of my time went into self-promotion, which totally wore me out! Let me say, when you’re trying to network and read other blogs/books/articles and leave feedback and share/retweet/repost you can quickly lost track of time and not have any time left to work on your own projects, if you’re not careful. So for the past couple of weeks I’ve been mentally trying to regroup and focus on my next project I plan to release in the coming weeks, Sunlight, Coffee and Roses.
Beads of sweat rolled down the side of her face and instantly cooled her when the crisp autumn breeze kissed her face. It was the first day of Autumn. The season of her birth as unpredictable as she was, when the weather would some days mimic summer and other days confuse her mental calendar because of the cold. She could sit back and admire the beauty of death as the leaves on the trees changed colors and fell to once more become one with the earth and fertilize the next season’s blossoms.Read More »
I’ve chosen to take a more difficult road, forgoing selling my books through the major retailers and selling them directly instead. It is for both financial and personal reasons I have chosen to do this. For one, I want to have as much creative control over my work as possible. Secondly, I’d like to have as close of a connection to my supporters as I can over the internet. By selling my books direct, I know a little about who buys my work and the people who buy my work know a little something about me. My eBooks are available as .epub and .pdf and my paperbacks will be autographed. Hopefully, if you have decided to invest in my career, you’ve already had a chance to read through some of the pieces I have published on this site and are familiar with my style. FYI, I like to say a lot in a few words so you can expect my books to be quick but powerful reads. If you’re a member of Goodreads and you’ve read anything written by me, please leave a review or leave a little feedback in the comments below. Are you ready to buy? Just click on the link below to visit my bookstore or visit the My Books tab to order a paperback.
Melissa is lost and hasn’t the first clue of where to find herself. Pea can’t let go of her past mistakes, which is suffering her present and future. Sherri thrives on her vanity, but even the most vain finds herself falling short. Jane just wants to start over and make amends, but how does one mend a broken heart? Life has a funny way of connecting the lost and confused. Some mistakes are meant to be made and some wounds aren’t meant to be healed. Some wounds don’t want to heal. Despite the shortcomings and differences, these ladies find themselves all singing the same tune. Beauty, passion, art, fear and love all had their hands in the composition of the ladies’ song—a song that reveals the deepest layer of each one’s being.
I’ve been writing since I can remember. I’ve had a love-hate relationship with the idea of writing full-time and potentially being a starving artist. I strayed, but I couldn’t stay away. Some days ideas fill my head and I can’t function until I pick up a pen and a sheet of paper. I officially had my first novel idea in 2012. I started, wrote more than 20,000, then let life get in the way. I’ve written some other things since then; blog posts, SEO articles as a ghostwriter, poetry and short stories. Last year I became fed up and engaged in much prayer and reflection to figure out what the heck I was doing with my life and what kind of example I was setting for my young daughter. One year ago in October, I got the wake-up call and opportunity of a lifetime that prompted me to take steps towards using my natural-born talents as a writer. Should I pursue slam poetry? Maybe I should start a blog. I already had blogs that I had abandoned…why start another? Maybe I should just get back into the habit of writing, period. Well, it seems only fitting to announce the release of two completed projects during the month that I officially began my literary pursuit. The first is my debut novel (technically a novella) Reflection in the Music. Here’s a little synopsis:Read More »
It was calling my name. So I got it. Bite after bite I just couldn’t get enough. It took me to a place of euphoria. A high which cannot be described for there was nothing to compare to. That kind of feel good that melts in your mouth but not in your hands. That kind of feel good that leaves you feeling guilty. That kind of feel good that you must sweat out to rid from your body the remnants of its essence. It consumed me as much as I consumed it. Without it I experienced withdrawals. I was addicted. It had taken over my life. It was my best friend and my worst enemy. It had to be off limits to me because he it wasn’t mine to consume. He It was not a part of my budget/caloric intake. He It was so good to me…but not good for me. But here I am with it instead of him. Spoonful after spoonful. Trying to satisfy a hunger with something not suited to satisfy it. Close, but not quite.
In and out. Inhale. Exhale. She stopped and opened her eyes. She had pushed herself to her physical limits by running as fast and for as long as she could until her body would no longer allow her to move. It started as a simple power walk around the neighborhood and progressed into a jog. Before she knew it, she was lying in grass in a park on the other side of town. There was something liberating about her daily walks. Some days she felt the urge to take off running. On this day she did. Her feet hurt. Her thighs tingled. Her heart pounded so hard in her chest she thought it would burst. It felt like her breath would never be restored. So she lay there. Staring up at the sky. Appearing to passersby as someone simply admiring the clouds on a partly sunny day. In reality, she knew she had done exactly what she should not have: moved too fast. As her senses calmed, she learned that if she knew nothing else, she knew her limits. Always being one to rush into things, she jumped headfirst into jobs, relationships and broken promises. Still, lessons went unlearned. Patience is a virtue, or so she had heard. Stop and smell the roses. Enjoy the view. She had ran so fast and so hard beyond what she was capable of doing. Not only testing the waters, but drowning in them. Now she had no choice but to enjoy the view.
Piece by piece an article of clothing came off of her body. The water was ice cold. She wasn’t accustomed to taking cold showers, but it had been placed on her spirit that day to forego the heat and immerse herself in cold. She braced herself as she stepped in front of the cold stream. No need to ease in, just do it. The low temperature shocked her senses. Her mouth opened to let out a cry, but her voice was frozen. As spontaneously as she had decided to take a cold shower that morning, she had thrown all caution to the wind and quit her comfortable, yet boring job and her pursuit of her college degree for the sole purpose of traveling. She was neither a mother nor a wife, so she was obligated to no one. She lived through her parents existing paycheck to paycheck during her childhood and had only recently ended her own cycle of debt. How reckless was it that she stopped working now when she had just claimed a hard-fought victory over steady bills? There was an island somewhere calling her name. Perhaps she could find her living as a photographer capturing the most precious sights in the natural world. Or perhaps she could pick up skills and learn a trade, create a new identity. Whatever happened, it wouldn’t matter. Neither poverty, nor the rat race would keep her in routine. Now, she just had to fund it.
She didn’t want to do too much and go off the deep end. There was always the possibility of there being no reciprocity, as her personal history had taught her. When she liked, she liked and when she loved, she loved. And as she sealed the envelope of both her fate and her last payment on her credit card which she would shortly max out again to invest in a stranger’s business she thought about how foolishly she was probably behaving for a stranger. A stranger who probably barely knew she existed. But, she knew the stranger. She saw into the stranger and in the stranger she saw herself. She knew herself and her capabilities. She saw herself living vicariously through the stranger’s success and in order for her to live it, she had to invest in it. She knew her strengths. She knew her weaknesses. She pursued her own path, but there’s always that part of her that wonders “What if?” and the stranger answered. So, while pursuing what she believes is her path, she keeps tabs on another in hopes for success in both. In doing so, her dreams are not left as dreams, but are dreams realized.