We all have flaws, perceived or otherwise, that have plagued us since youth. Or at least we just simply always remember worrying about them. I’m not smart enough. Or my legs aren’t long enough or I’m too introverted. Whatever it may be, it is something that probably weighs us down. Where did it come from? Did you wake up one morning and simply think it or feel it? Or most likely, did it stem from something someone said once. Maybe we remember EXACTLY when it started, the exact moment someone said something that stuck with us. Or maybe we’ve blocked it out, and just somehow think it’s some universal, unconnected truth that just is, as if it’s a fact. I’ve written about my legs before. I can remember an exact moment in a car when I was about 13. I was squished in with a few friends coming back from the movies, my brother driving us. It was summer and hot and we all had shorts on and windows down. I looked to the left to one of my best friends, her leg pressed against mine, and I had two thoughts, thoughts that always seem to pop into my mind, like it was yesterday. One was that her leg was so much skinnier than mine. I couldn’t stop looking at it. The second was how tan hers was next to mine. I felt pasty and unattractive and what probably really makes this memory stick is that my brother commented on it. That my legs were too big for us to pile in the back and all fit. He never said fat. They weren’t. They were just—bigger. Muscular. And too short. Always too short.
And it makes me wonder: Does everyone feel that? Do even the most happy, the one most smiling, the one who seems to have it all, feel those things too? I never thought about it much until I was older, until I actually spoke to my brother about such things, him aghast that such a small comment that, to him, meant nothing but a silly joke, could leave such a lasting impression on my psyche. Because to him, it was such a non-issue; to him, in some strange way, he was complimenting me on my hard work.
I think the things that stick with us the longest or the most come from people we love or trust who let us down. I often wonder, had a stranger said that if I would have given it two thoughts. Maybe. Maybe not. But it’s the people closest to us that can hurt us the most. In love. In friendship. Anyone we let in. And maybe that’s why it’s easier to keep people at a distance. The rocks of words can’t hit as hard far away. But up close, they can leave scars.
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"Death lies on her, like an untimely frost Upon the sweetest flower of all the field." ~Shakespeare In case you don't follow me on social media and missed my Facebook post, I'm sharing it here as well...
Out of the blue, I lost my best friend and PA. I'm not sure where I'll go from here... It’s taken me a day to get over the shock of my beautiful friend and PA’s death and write something myself. I’m still in shock. Words just can’t express the overwhelming sadness I feel. Mandi Calder was not only my PA, she was my sister by choice. There wasn’t a day we didn’t speak, except for rare vacations or days where we’d shut down to recharge. She did so much for me as a PA—just because she wanted to, not because she had to. She shared my work daily into groups before I’d even be out of bed, she ran the NuR Twitter feed, and she found the most beautiful ballet images for me. She had my back. She was my springboard for ideas. She kept me organized. She let me vent. She made me laugh. She made me feel special. But mostly, she kept me from not giving up. Her motto was always: “Positive thinking, hunni,” especially when I needed to hear it most. That was her. Without thought or obligation. She was just…kind. And giving…and smart! God. She was so smart. And I can say that we told each other we loved each other often. For that, I have no regrets. She knew. And I knew. I hear her now. As I write this. “Positive thinking…” And I’m really trying to listen. It’s just almost impossible to wrap my mind around the idea that she’s gone. That she was taken from us so young. And I don’t think I can make sense of it. Not now. Maybe not ever. So if I’m quiet for a while, it’s because I don’t know of any other way to be. Even my tears are quiet. I keep wondering if they’ll stop. And I’m not sure, exactly, how I see my future here or in the writing or publishing community without her. She’s been with me from the start. I've never known a writing life without her. She was and IS a beautiful soul. So I’ll remember that. I’ll feel that. I’ll feel her soul. And let it guide me, bit by bit. Day by day. Because a soul like hers, doesn’t die. Saying goodbye to someone or something you love is never easy. But it happens all the time in life. It doesn’t mean the love is gone. It just means it has changed or morphed or outgrown a heart’s size for myriad reasons. And for now, I am saying goodbye to something I love. It is with a heavy heart that I am closing The Nu Romantics’ Facebook group. It doesn’t mean The Nu Romantics are completely disappearing. Not now. Maybe not ever. But there are reasons why I no longer could put all my time into supporting a group at the expense of myself. It sounds selfish saying that out loud, but if there’s one thing I’ve been taught from writing—writing of ANY kind-- is that when we stop being honest, we have nothing to say that’s meaningful. I put my heart and soul into creating a group for writers and readers to come to explore and grow in a safe place. It was a place I got to fulfill so many of my creative urges. For anyone who knows me, they’ll tell you, my mind rarely shuts down. There is a creative side to me that’s almost a monster, gnawing at me, sometimes so voraciously, I completely lose myself. I’m constantly stopping to takes notes of ideas, writing, creating…and sadly, second guessing. I think a lot of us are like that. I’m not the exception. Without getting into too many details, I don’t think people realize the extent of work that goes into making a really successful group, and I’m not a half-assed person, about anything, a curse and a blessing. Some do realize it. Some joined us on the administration staff, only to realize how much work and dedication was required. At the expense of my own work and projects, I continuously put NuR first. Trying new things. Inventing new posts to engage people in an almost 1000-person group by its end. But I found when it came time for reciprocation, it just wasn’t there in the way I always dreamed. We, and our incredibly industrious PAs, were sharing and making graphics for people across all social platforms and commenting and encouraging people’s writing daily. We published two anthologies with no monetary compensation up front—collecting, editing, creating covers, editing, making graphics, editing (have I said editing?), and promoting and promoting and promoting. But The NuR family often remained silent during these times and the support only seemed to consist of a handful of people who really seemed to care or support those endeavors or understand the time and effort that goes into such things. To those people who were always there supporting the people in the group, and there are many, you are always a part of me and my growth and everyone else. And I thank you. You have marked me in the best possible way for life. That may sound bitter. It’s not. Please don’t take it that way. It’s a reality. NO ONE HAS MORE THAN 24 hours a day, that includes me and other admins. It’s not that people didn’t want to support (at least I hope so), it’s that none of us has that kind of time. We have lives. We have friends. We have families. We have lovers. We have full-time jobs. We write full-time too. A third full-time job? How? And yet, we admins were often expected to find time to support everyone all the time and when we didn’t, our inboxes would sometimes let us know.
So after months of debating and fighting with myself, it was time to take a break. I want to be creative. I want time to write. I want to support others. I, too, want support. And so starts a new chapter of how to balance the idea of success with that of support, especially when I have new releases or takeovers, how to balance creativity and time, and how to balance expectations with reality. The state of affairs in the world right now, especially in the US, won’t allow me to live on some cloud in the sky anymore. There is shit to be done. Work to do. And until someone devises a way to make more than 24-hours in a day, the reallocation of priorities is mandatory. Goodbye isn’t a word. It’s a feeling. And sometimes, goodbye feels right, but it’s never without sadness. There’s been a bit of…hmmmm…I’m not really sure what to call it. Nastiness? Drama? Controversy? Whatever you call it, I’m not being a part of it. Perhaps you’re wondering what I’m talking about? And I took a long time today deciding whether or not I should write about it. Am I just adding fire to the flames by writing my whole response this way? I don’t think so. I have every right to voice my opinion. And I believe there needs to be more support in the indie community rather than in-fighting. I'm tired of it. Let me say this: If you’re an author/writer/poet, and you think putting down other authors publicly is fun, or you think you’re one hundred times better than other writers, or you can’t have a conversation or healthy debate about writing but turn to name-calling or worse, have others do it for you, I’m out. I’m not here to do that. I’m here to raise and lift others, write, share my work, and celebrate the written word with readers and fellow authors. If I don’t like another author’s writing, that’s that. I don’t read it. Or support it much or at all. (If it is abuse or something nefarious, that is different. I’m not talking about that.) And if you enjoy being involved with authors who do that as a reader or as their fan club, and if I see you being a part of that or a leader of it, jumping on a bandwagon to verbally assault other authors, I’m out of there too. With that said, I believe authors should try to be as honest as they can, that if they say something is autobiographical it should be, and that they shouldn’t be passing things off as the gospel truth. Remember that book there that Oprah recommended? A Million Little Pieces by James Frey, the guy who said it was autobiographical when it wasn’t? Not cool. I agree. Go, Oprah. Glad he got his rear-end handed to him. But see how it came to the surface because of astute readers? Not some other author leading some kind of witch hunt? No one likes dishonesty or being fed a crockpot of lies. No one. But in this indie community, if readers can’t figure that out for themselves, it’s not my job to take care of it. That shit takes care of itself. Watching authors act like petulant and jealous competitors is not my jam. I like to stick with those who support others vying for a chance. I like the underdogs. I love the indie community and the authors I’ve met along the way with the same mentality. I have too much going on in my flesh and blood life to worry about people typing anonymously behind a screen, suddenly so brave, who believe it’s okay to attack and ridicule others. If we can’t have a conversation like adults, if you’re here to make waves to sell books, good luck drowning. I won’t be there to lend a preserver. I’ll be long gone by then.
Peace. I have written ad nauseam about intuition and my love/hate relationship with it. I like to think it’s not my intuition that rules my actions or thoughts but my background in research. If I follow the crumbs, they lead to the bread from whence it came. But what is it that started you on the trail in the first place? What makes the crumbs so readily available to me or you or anyone else? Why are we looking for them? For more times than not, they’re not there without our pursuit. Sometimes we call it a hunch. But again, those “hunches” come from previous experiences we’ve had, right? And oftentimes, it’s the people who burn us or betray us or let us down that stick. For all the love we may have or had, all the loyal friendships, all the good reaped upon us always seems to be overshadowed by the bad. That one experience of broken trust, for instance, is the one experience that makes us cautious, tip-toe into another relationship, slow down our chance at trust. And if it happens more than once? Well, it’s easier to think anything good will soon turn sour. Given the right amount of time, most people disappoint us. I don’t like thinking this way. But call it what you will—a hunch, past experiences, intuition, common sense—if we ignore the crumbs, we’ll fooling ourselves. How many times have all the signs added up and we’ve tried to explain them away, not daring or wanting to believe them? Going to that extreme isn’t good. That is a live-with-your-head-in-the-sand kind of existence. No one wants to live the buffoon. But what if you’re the opposite? What if your lack of trust is so strong, you often go searching for the crumbs, crumbs that may not even be there? A sort of paranoia? Again, an extreme. Both lead to a sense of out-of-control mania, even obsession. Blind trust vs. no trust? Both, in my opinion, are bad. And many of us fall into one camp or the other. The thing is, when you don’t trust, and you start looking, and you start to see something, then what? What if a friend sees it for you? Or vice versa, you see it for a friend? What then? Communicate? Go straight to the person? Ask them? Well, sure, you could…except if you’re this kind of person, you won’t trust their answer anyway, and search will continue, the pursuit ever stronger. And sometimes (okay, who am I kidding—OFTENTIMES), I’ve found myself to be this kind of person. I follow. I research. And when and if I find the conclusive evidence, then I communicate. Or perhaps you may call it confront. I wait. Then watch them lie. Then I’m done. Because I know. I’m not happy that life has been a series of events or people or experiences that have molded me to be this way. I’m working on it. Being in healthy relationships helps. But I’ll be damned if I’m the last one to know that I’m being fooled. And even writing this, it feels like a pride thing, maybe even that paranoia. “No one is going to pull the wool over my eyes. No sir-ee!” Or--"Ha! I knew it! Caught you, ya bastard!" Perhaps the real answer is to get to a place where you love yourself enough to love others fully and with trust. Because really, it says more about you than it does about them when you’re always looking for disaster or dishonesty. Life will be a series of disappointments. People lie. And it won’t be the last time they lie to you. The question is: Do you think that is reason enough to never open yourself up to another human being? Maybe. Maybe not. So that is why loving yourself makes it all worthwhile, doesn’t it? For if you must say goodbye to someone you love, you’re never alone. Paper Cuts was months in the making, where eight poets came together, shared their work, critiqued each other, applauded each other, and worked as a team of artists to become better poets. At times, it was difficult, and sometimes the paper cuts took longer to heal, but they did, and so, too, did we. Our words, like skin, became more beautiful, textured, and interesting over time. Where layers grew, so did our integrity and character. It took some mistakes, some Band-aids, and some trial and error; but mostly, it took vulnerability. Without that, there is no growth for a poet. And as we exposed our wounds, slowly allowing ourselves to become more and more uncomfortable, we realized our deepest poetry was brimming just below our surfaces. We are now ready to share our work with you, hoping our poetry cuts into your heart, your feelings, your emotions, and that you’ll heal, somehow, along with us. To read moe about our journey and our special thanks, get your copy of PAPER CUTS: We bleed but do not die. Friendship, true friendship, is rare. Can you find it even with people you haven’t met in real life? Do you have friends online that you feel closer to than some in your physical world? And if so, do you think there’s something wrong with that? That there is something wrong with you? Must you be with someone in the flesh, in the real “touching” world to be close to them? To have a real relationship? I used to think I had the answers to those questions. But I don’t. I have a life outside of online social media. A full life. Sometimes too full to be honest. But this online life of mine feels every much as real. Am I fooling myself? Is this as fleeting as the online internet provider’s connection? Some days, I think yes. People I thought were my friends disappoint. Lie. Say they support but don’t. But that is no different than real life friends or co-workers, people who constantly let you down or don’t have the same work ethic as you. Self-absorbed people who talk and talk and talk about themselves but never ask how you are doing…who don't see the consequences of their actions and often play the victim. Those people, I’m sure, are the same in their everyday, flesh lives as well. That's just who they are. It doesn’t have anything to do with social media or being online. We can’t “fake” the essence of who we are. Everyone’s true self comes out eventually, especially when you’ve been in the game this long. I’d rather have 10 close friends I can count on than 1000 fake ones, only after self- preservation. So today, I want to dedicate this post to tried and true friends, and in particular, a very special group of friends, The Writers of NuR, as we just saw our first anthology, Beyond the Last Page, go live and with great success! You are my writing comrades, but it’s more for me. We are friends. I count on you. And I hope you can count on me. We worked through deadlines, edits, critiques, and publishing. We listened to each other. We encouraged each other. We supported each other and left our egos at the door. We cheered each other on, sometimes hearing things about our work we didn't want to. We grew together. And we produced something I’m quite proud of, and quite smoothly I might add, a group dedicated to something outside of themselves. Though some of you I haven’t met in the flesh, you are every bit as real to me, sometimes more so. I like waking up knowing there is someone there to say good morning and really mean it, who listens with sincerity, and who isn’t a fair-weather fan, but a tried and true friend. Congratulations to our first, and, hopefully, many more successes. Cheers! Is the internet and things like DMs and Messenger the new form of letter writing? Is it so bad? We had this discussion a bit in The Nu Romantics the other day about the handwritten manuscript, notes, or letters, that it is becoming a lost art, the beauty fading, and so, too, may be our words. Are these capabilities making interpersonal relationships and communication a thing of the past? Are we doomed to face a world like the one presented in the novel, "Ella Minnow Pea"? (If you haven't read that by the way, I highly recommend it.) For all its ills, there is something romantic about the communication of writing. Yes. I see its flaws. I see the idea that people may be losing their ability to talk face-to-face, that interpersonal skills may be lacking as a result of texting and the like. But, for me, it has freed me. It has freed me from a life of writing academically, of putting on my masks at work and even in my personal life. R.B. has freed a world of words and ideas and thoughts, free to say almost (almost because I still am me) anything I'm feeling, to embrace my dark and my light. To write. Yes. To write. I write all the time now because of technology. I speak into my phone and type it later. I pull over on the side of the road and write into my notes. I can be at work in the most boring of meetings, listening to someone who just wants to hear himself talk, see a prompt somewhere, and type into my notes app on my phone. I see a sunset. I write. I watch a ballet and I write. I go to the theatre and I write. I lie on the beach...and yes, I write. I cannot tell you how many times I had an idea or a thought and poof, it's gone, because I didn't have my notebook or pen, or if I did, it would be too obvious and maybe even rude. The phone, once a rude invasion, has become almost a part of us, to pull it out now is normal, expected...do I put it away sometimes? Of course I do. There are times and places it's unacceptable, and sometimes, even then, I scurry off the bathroom and hide and jot down a thought, a phrase, a moment. I dare say it's made me a better writer. Even these blogs I write: So many ideas flit through my mind and I lose them if I don't write them down...and so, my phone is my mind on many occasions...I write poems on it. I write micro shorts. I write these blogs. But the best thing I love about this thing we call the internet is the ability to find love, to fall in love with someone's soul rather than their looks or other things we tend to judge people on. I get to communicate with people all over the world, and get to know them, as we learn to communicate more clearly through the written word. Like a time long ago where a lover across seas or at war can only communicate through a written letter, so, too, has the internet's channels of conversation done the same. The only difference? Sometimes it even makes us closer. It's immediate. It's right there, at our fingertips. I see something, I want to share with a friend, and I can write her. I can take a picture and send it. We can "talk" about it live...and it's organic and just as real as a real-time conversation in person. There is nothing stopping us from communication but a signal. Why must in-person be the best form of communication? Says who? I challenge you to tell me why. It's a shift, I realize, in thinking...but that's life. Evolution. On Twitter last week, there was a prompt about what our phones are saying behind our backs. I laughed reading some of those. We can be naked. We can be in the tub. We can be in bed, under covers, in the dark when we're supposed to be sleeping, and have some of the most beautiful conversations. We can learn at any hour, from anyone we choose. We learn about other people and countries and ideas, things we could never do in person for myriad reasons, like money or time or space. it erases those obstacles. It opens us up to worlds this lifetime would never allow us to see. We may even fall in love with people we'll never meet. And somehow, that in itself, is one of the most romantic notions I can think of. Perhaps, even, I shall write a story and publish it about one such love affair, a couple madly in love, whose fate hangs in the balance of cyberspace. Yes. I dare say it again. The internet has made me a better writer. And this blog will now be shared with thousands of people, for better or worse. THAT could never happen otherwise. And to think, my phone and the internet made it possible...
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I LOVE to write and read. I particularly enjoy reading erotic romance that has tons of emotion in it. I hope you will ask me questions and share your favorite authors and novels. I welcome all feedback.
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