Sunday, May 24

Our Shattered Love

Shards of you cutting into me
Distorted reflections of us looking back at me

I remember when we used to be
So happy
Just you and me

Long walks together sharing our thoughts
Time spent together never enough
Now look at us falling apart

Shards of us cutting into me
Crimson red rivulets bleeding freely

Wounds that won’t close
Gape open and wide
My weary bandages can no longer hide
Shards of you cutting into me

This poem is dedicated to anyone that has experienced true heartbreak, true disillusionment with the one you love.

I believe in the power of love and the strength that it takes to love someone else in a relationship, but I admire the true strength it takes to love yourself enough to walk away from love that hurts, love that doesn't uplift, love that is destructive.

Slow and Steady Editing

Boy, I have the manuscript done, but I know I still have to go through and reread and edit. In some ways I love this process, because it's liking seeing a beautiful picture that just needs added highlights or a splash of color here or there to bring the piece alive.

That being said, editing is slow and tedious process. Try to hurry and you are just skimming the words, not truly grasping what you are reading or what you really intended your character to say.

No, it has to be done when you mind is clear and your thoughts are focused on what you were really trying to impart in the written words on the page.  Only forty pages in and I am feeling a bit discouraged, because I so want to get to the next step of this process, but I know I can't rush this either.

I am love seeing the characters that I've created come alive with the dialogue or fall flat. This is my chance to rework and rewrite until it shines and I truly want it to sparkle.  So, I will take my time and pray that this process doesn't take half as long as I think and that it brings forth a story worthy of readers.

Thursday, May 14

One step down, two, three, four more to go?

It's finally done. It took almost a year to complete, but tonight I printed out my first completed manuscript. At the halfway point I printed it out and was amazed with my efforts at that stage, but this is something different.

Just seeing the printed reality of so much hard work, late nights, and wondering if I would ever get to this point, makes this a night for celebration.
The weight of the manuscript in my hands made me smile. I can't believe that I actually typed all of those words. I know I want to be an author. I believe I have many wonderful stories to tell and now the first one is sitting next to me waiting for the next step.

60,252 words, 231 pages to be exact. It's a it's my hard work. I want to scream at the top of my lungs, "I Finished It! I Finished It!" Yet, it isn't over yet. I still have to go through and edit for a fourth time, maybe a fifth time.

Then the scary part comes in. Giving it to other people that I know and a couple I don't to read and critique. Will they enjoy my story? Will they turn the pages in anticipation of what is coming next? Will they be able to give me constructive criticism that will make my book even better?

But the most important and scariest question remains: What if they hate it? The butterflies in my stomach are fluttering around even now at just the thought of failing to please as a writer.

I want to celebrate phase one, but I know it's just the beginning of this journey. In the beginning when I had less than 5,ooo words, I thought the hard part would be getting to 60,000 words or two hundred pages. Now, I believe the most difficult challenges lay ahead. I will dwell on that tomorrow...right now I celebrate with a glass of wine!

Monday, May 11

Getting Creative...Despite Interruptions

One of the hardest things about being a writer is finding the right time and moment of creativity to put the scenes playing out in your head on paper. The challenge for me is doing that with the distractions that come along with being a SAHM.

Some days I wake up and know exactly what I want to write and I come to the computer rearing to go, my fingers rushing over the keys to get the scenes down, while every two minutes one of my little darlings are calling my name. Talk about frustrating. Interruptions disrupt the flow of creative writing.

Other days I stare at the screen trying to figure out what or where to go next with the dialogue. But what is the most annoying for me is having an idea of what I want to write and waiting for those snatches of minutes to get it down.

Sometimes it happens and other times I find myself looking at the clock after the kids are in bed and I think.."I'm mentally whipped." My last creative thought escaped out of my head three tantrums ago.

That being said there is nothing for me besides singing that is as exciting as finishing a scene and seeing the characters coming alive on screen. Creating is so much fun and keeps me sane in the insane world of toddler speak and preschooler questions.

Back to writing...

Thursday, May 7


Sable skin so silky smooth
Luscious lips
Cinnamon hued

Ebony sweet

Fabulously full figured
Beauty head to feet

Regal sashay
Crown of curly coils
Eyes follow me
As if I pose

Embrace me
Adore me
For I am righteously designed

I am Beauty
Simply Divine

This poem flowed one morning after I had finished untwisting my natural hair. I stood back in the mirror and felt 100% beautiful. Like most women, I've struggled with loving the reflection in the mirror and even now the mirror I believe mocks me some days.

Being a black woman I can admit that I have struggled all my life to embrace what is me. My skin, my now natural hair, my thickness, and even my behind. It has been an arduous process. A tearful journey to arrive where I am today.

Loving me, all of me, because that's is how God made me. Yes, I still want to lose the last of the baby fat and yes I still turn around and ask the silent question..."Is my butt to big?" But, I no longer voice it out loud, because I've realized when you do no answer will ever satisfy. It's all up to me to stop asking the questions and know the answer- I am beautiful, because I Am...

Wednesday, May 6

Blogger Beginner

Writing has always been an outlet for me. Since middle school I can remember taking out my journal before going to bed to write down what happened that day good or bad. Having a journal was a way to privately exercise out the demons within on paper, while knowing nobody would read about my inner struggles as I poured out my heart.

I cherish my journals and sometimes open them to read about happier and not so happy times. They serve as a testament of my childhood, teenage angst and emergence into adulthood. I think everyone should take the time to write down the good, the bad, and the funny.

Blogging seems foreign to me even though I love to write. Who is this for? Me or the world?

I guess both and that is a little bit scary and exhilarating. I have decided to blog about my journey to become a published author and share some of my personal prose and poetry that I've already published online.

Blogging is a new journey and I am looking forward to seeing where it leads...