Thursday Tea Party

Today is a coffee day. So much on my mind today, and no where near enough sleep.

Did you see that my bestie has a new book out? You can get it here. I am so proud of her. She worked really hard to get it out.

I applied, and was accepted, for a position with Coffee House Writers. I will be doing a bi-weekly article for them. My anxiety is through the roof. After all what do I write? Especially for the first one. After I get used to it, I don’t think that it will be as bad. The article has to use 5 of their tags… Which are expansive, but I am not one who is used to conformity with tags. I am stuck in a debate whether to write an article, a story, or a poem. It is so much to think on.

Have you preordered Inspiration Without a Home yet? It releases on the 30th of September. It is a hard story for me, my own. Memoirs are never easy to write. This was not any different.

I have been working on my studio. I nearly have all craft and art supplies moved in. I still have to organize it. I will be posting pictures as I get it useable.

Social anxiety is no joke. I have jewelry pieces and paintings to sell. I have an online store but it is not as active as I would like. I think it is due to me not being as good at taking pictures of what I make. My resin pieces and art always look so much better in person. I can get a table at the local flea market for $5 a day. The problem is that I am terrified that I will make a mess of selling it. So I may be putting out time and money for a fail. I love making the pieces. But I am often putting a lot of money into crafting with no return. So I am planning to do the flea market the first weekend in October.

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Thursday Tea Party

Hello, lovely friends. I hope that this tea party finds you well? If not I think that I can find you some lavender and jasmine blend to ease the belly.

My tea today came from the gas station . I have a weakness for peach.

It is really good, and all of the ingredients are pronouncable. I wonder about the chemicals that are in food nowadays. Sometimes, I feel like a lab rat for all of the chemicals in my food. So, when possible, I like getting more natural food.

A friend shared a nice meme with me yesterday made me smile.

I am not sure that I qualify as a Positive Patti. Though I do try. Some of the topics that I discuss are not meant to be positive.

My memoir is in preorder. I almost did not write it. I am not famous , not someone who most people would seek out to read the life story of. However, I tell my stories semi freely. I can’t help it. I don’t want to hide the past… Hiding brings shame. I have no reason to be ashamed.

Well a couple of women in one of my author groups on Facebook pushed me to write a memoir. Memoirs are for people who are famous or have enormous stories to share, I argued. They pointed out that my stories were bigger than I realized.

From stories of surviving abuse and rape to cute childhood memories, interspersed with poetry, I believe that Inspiration Without a Home is worth the read. It is my truth. There is some people who have reason to claim I am lying. I don’t intend to argue. This is my story, my truth. Let them tell theirs if they wish.

I am finally in a place in my life where I can speak my truth and not fear for the cost.

Friday my bestie, and partner in Fae Corps Publishing, releases her new YA novel. A Royal’s Undoing by Cyndi Pilcher is the first book in what looks to be an interesting set. It is filled with Elves, Murder, magic and political intrigue. Not wanting to spoil it, because I truly think it is worth the read, but the ending has a great twist.

Creative’s Rising E-Zine is in the process of production. Things that caused the summer edition to be stopped have been set to rights. So the Fall edition will be on time. I will have poetry within.

I recently interviewed for a bi-weekly writing position. If I get it I will be doing a bi-weekly article there as well. Maybe I will get in to their poetry department.

In order to apply for them, I had to do a resume. I was surprised by the amount of places I could claim in the last few years. Though I have been writing my whole life, I have only been doing the publish and share thing since 2010. Which seems like so much longer than it really is.

Oh my! Rambling on today. I didn’t realize how much I had to say! So, I am going to leave you with a question. If you had to write a memoir, what is the first memory that you would want to include?

Monday musings

I know that I usually post poetry on Monday, but the last week has been a rough one for me and creating. Between a death in the family, that hit rather hard, and general aches and pains… This week has been a lot of “couch time”…basically me and my television have seen more of each other than I ever do.

There is always a little slow down after I publish a new volume. When I wonder if I am foolish and vain for publishing. When I acknowledge that I don’t do well with pushing the books that I already have out. When I wonder who I would be if I didn’t write. When the idea scares me, so I try to force it… And end up scraping a few really bad foced starts. This is the first month after I publish a new volume.

Then, I start actually calming down… Realize that I don’t have to sell it. I have written it. I have put it out into the world so that it can be seen. I have done my part. It is my job to write, not to force anyone to read it. Those who are meant to be be my readers will find it, as long as I keep sharing. Which I have been doing a bit more of. I have been putting my poetry on graphics and putting more on my blog, and Instagram. I have a public album on Facebook and a board on Pinterest. In the meantime what that time of panic and reflection often means is that I have nothing worth sharing today, except for the view of my weirdo neurotic mind. Some like that view though, so I decided to share.

Quicksilver poetry

Something new I am thinking about. Sometimes I want to jam. Just free verse because I have too much on my mind. It will likely be rambling and not the cleanest verse. But… It will be a good look into who I am behind the edited and clean verse I usually post. This will also not necessarily be the way that the poetry ends in the books. This section will not be scheduled. It will be a whim. And I make no promise of quality….

Random thoughts of poetry.

Now I normally don’t do this. I don’t explain my poetry, or my art, because I think that most people see what they want to in anything creative. I feel like explanation ruins a piece. To be honest this post is not entirely an explanation… But rather an aside. I have been thinking a lot lately about accountability. About guilt and mistakes. About what I am responsible for in my life and what regrets I should have and what it all means.

I have thought about the regrets that others have expressed towards me. I find that I have very few actual regrets. Each of my choices I made with all of the knowledge that I had at the time. I have revisited some of them later… And hindsight makes regret easy… If you let it.

The problem comes in when you allow regret to consume your conscience. We are as a society, cold. We have lost the conscience. We have lost the knowledge of good and evil, or the will to care. When prison actually looks better than trying to make your way in this miserable world…lives of others no longer matter. That is not a mental illness thing… It is a wake up call.

We have a society where you can work 60+ hours a week and still not be able to afford to pay rent. We live in a society where there is often no way of breaking even, much less getting ahead. Where hate and violence is broadcast nightly on the news. So I have to wonder how we as a society can fix this? How can we take responsibility for the problem and fix it?

Fantasy Friday

I am a dreamer. Most writers are. It sort of goes with the job. Some times the dreams help the writing. Other times, not as much. So there are occasions when dreaming needs to be done with no plans for writing those dreams out. To dream for no other reason than to replenish the pool of imagination.

So today I want to discuss imagination. My grandmother firmly believed that exercising your imagination to strengthen your mind. She has always been a major influence on me. She introduced me to radio shows, like she listened to as a child. She was a natural storyteller. She taught me to love the written word.

So I wanted to write from an early age. Stories had a special place in my heart. It was just fun.

Faeries, dragons, and other fantasy creatures spark the imagination. As a tabletop gamer I have access to more information about the creatures of imagination. This gives me more room to create. However, this doesn’t always give me a unique view. Some times I struggle with the idea that I add the uniqueness to my writing naturally.

It is not a uncommon problem with authors. I have been working on my issues here. Today I think that I will dream…

Thursday Straight Talk (a day early)

Tw: mention of abuse, suicide, and rape.

I have ptsd. This is not something that I tend to talk about often because it has a stigma attached. I get claustrophobic. I hyperventilate. I dissociate. I struggle with the urge to hide. I am an insomniac. I am a survivor. None of the things I have listed make me a bad person. Most are the result of trauma and of keeping myself so hypervigilant for so long. I see a doctor. I take meds. Some days are better than others. I have learned coping methods. I have learned to be aware of my triggers. No I am not a snowflake. No I don’t have to have a safe place. I don’t even know what a safe place is. I take life one day at a time. I have panic moments as so many people do. They are from knowing that real monsters exist in this world. Monsters that hide in human skin. I am not suicidal. I really don’t want to die. However on my bad days I find that I wish I had never been born. I struggle with telling my story. I spoke my truth. I was called a liar. I came forward with one piece… And was not believed. I only told one person, because I was a child. If a child tells you their pain… Believe them. For you may be the only one they tell. My journey has been long. I was so fractured that I had at one point nearly 13 separate “alters” I am down to two. I used to have nightmares nightly. I am down to on average twice a month. Struggling with this does not make me less. I have come an amazingly long way… From losing months of time to now I lose an hour rarely. I am healing.

This is not something that I expected to post, if I am honest. I am careful about letting this all be “known” because I have others in my life that I know are embarrassed when the topic comes up. I have no reason for embarrassment. I am not ashamed of who I am. But, I love them. So I hold my tongue sometimes. However, I have been thinking about it. Perhaps it is not the right thing to do. I think that perhaps sharing the struggle might be more helpful for others who are struggling. I don’t know if I will share the details, yet.

I am a survivor of childhood sexual abuse. The man who did it abused others. He served time for one, and only one, of his victims. He has never been to court for what he did to me.

I survived a gang rape. And I survived another rape.

I survived domestic violence, by more than one of my relationships. My current love is the first time I have not been physically abused by the man in my life.

I have been homeless. I have been without food. I learned how to survive in each of these cases.

I have done things that I was not proud of. Hasn’t everyone? So, if I have a bad day… I might post some depression memes on social media. My poetry may get a bit darker. My art angrier.

Still. I survive. I am always here ready to listen. I understand what survival costs. Some days are better than others. Today I did not sleep. My mind would not quiet. Today my mind was attacking me with my faults in litany. Tomorrow may be better.

I know that this is published on Wednesday. I will post the art for Wednesday a day late because I think that this is important.

If you need support right now, call the National Suicide Prevention Lifeline at 1-800-273-8255, the Trevor Project at 1-866-488-7386 or text “HOME” to 741-741. Head here for a list of crisis centers around the world.

If you or a loved one is affected by sexual abuse or assault and need help, call the National Sexual Assault Telephone Hotline at 1-800-656-4673 to be connected with a trained staff member from a sexual assault service provider in your area.