Tomorrow I head to Manitoba for a family reunion. A bunch of those attending I haven’t seen in 21 years, some in less time, others I’m certain it will be the first time. It will be an interesting get-together, as reunions tend to be.
Funny thing is, I will be a stranger.
Not since I was a small child have I felt any connection to my family. I don’t know why, it just is. No support, or other ‘family’ like caring. I withdrew myself during this time, so we are all strangers. Little effort has been made to rectify the situation, nor do I feel there ever will be. Life keeps going. All you can do is make the best of what you have.
What do I have?
An amazing, supportive husband. 2 ridiculous and weird daughters, who are already on their way to being better people than I could never be. The ability to go wander the woods, and my writing.
My imagination has kept me sane for most of my life. I hope it continues to, right up to the end. After all, in the end you see the one constant in your life, was you. Cherish you!
One day, I might grow up. (yes I am in my 40’s, but that’s just a number) As a child, all you wanted was to be a grown up. How stupid were we!
When I grow up, I might be a writer. One who flits about to different conventions, speaking to those about my world, and what it’s like to be a writer. Right now, I am content to being unknown. (I never want to be a household name, but I really should do a book signing. I’m certain there would be about 10 people who would show up. Still, it is something I should do.)
We have a local comi-con. It’s called ThunderCon. Perhaps one day I will book a table at their event, and be a real writer. Sit and watch the flow of people go by, wonder who the F I am, and why I’m at the event. One day…
Many writers and artists exist in my little town. We have events all over the city where they can showcase their abilities. I’m not grown up enough to join them, yet. My goals do not even include things such as these at the moment.
Yes one day, I might grow up. Right now, I like playing in the rain, splashing in puddles and getting all muddy. I want to keep swinging on swings, climbing trees and other fun things. Being a grown up isn’t so much fun, so I will hold off until it is necessary.
Once upon an age..
Life was very different. Although people did not live in harmony, they still jpined together to fight off a bigger threat.
Wisdom was found with age, and speaking to one who had seen many decades was an honour. Now, shoving them in homes and making fun of them is the norm.
Children were of the land. Learning to walk among the trees, listening to what it had to say. They had an understanding of how things grow, and the importance of it, for all. They did not know selfishness.
“We must have progress or we die” they say. What has this brought? Anxiety and depression are at a high. More love is given to money and material things then to those who live. People will stab a close friend in the back for money, and throw others under the bus to make themselves look better. But if you see someone in need, or a wrong being committed? “Not my problem” comes from your lips.
This age is one of greed, believing you are owed something, and whining about it daily. Wanting what others have, just because. Our ancestors glare down at us, and wish we understood sacrifice, honour, and helping those in need without getting anything in return. (I’m speaking in a non military sense) They wish we understood what ‘community’ truly meant.
I wish I could see that age. Communities meant something.
All I can do is dream of what it was like: once upon an age.
For as long as I can remember, I loved being outside with the moon. Nothing felt better than walking along with only the moon, and the odd light, to guide you. Yes I carried a flashlight, but rarely did I use it.
My friends and I used to moon-tan. People would ask us all the time what that entailed, and it is quite easy. It’s just like suntanning, but with a moon high in the sky.
I believe my youth is what started my love for all things nature. I could do so much, hear a lot, and felt like I was a part of the world around me. Of course as a kid I wasn’t aware of things like Wicca, or Pagan ideologies. It was a great feeling when I did finally learn of these things.
My upbringing wasn’t normal, to say the least. Speaking to ghosts, studying rune stones, tea leaves and other odd hobbies was a norm. Finding solace, and understanding, in nature didn’t feel that strange to me. In a world bent on self inflicted idiocy, those who worshiped the earth, and all it entailed, made more sense to me.
As a grown up, I can say that I follow those paths with vigor now more than ever.
So go dance in tomorrow’s full moon light. Let the light shining down fill you, and you may find something. Perhaps, a better you.
For many months you have been annoyed with my ramblings about the fourth novel in my series. Well, on May 20th, it became available. So this means I am going to annoy you all even more!
This novel continues the adventures Koral and Eric embark on. The two are growing up now, and so the story evolves along with them. I still don’t like it, and am patiently waiting to hear opinions from others. As always, it is available in eBook, and print. Hit up the website if you are interested.
I have begun working on book 5, which will be the last one in this particular timeline. (Don’t worry, the next novels still contain the characters you have grown to love, I just move them a little ahead in life. Of course it will be a while before you even have to think about this stuff.)
I expect book 5 to be an absolute pain to write, and see crying in my future. Alright, more like a lot of swearing.
Yes, book 4 is now available, and awaiting your remarks.
OK, wishful thinking, but perhaps one day people will start leaving reviews on the sites where they picked up my books. If you got it from someone, just hit up Goodreads!
Today I am lucky to have another sunny morning, with a light breeze. Where I live, a light breeze is welcome. (the lake likes to give us gusting wind) The soft kiss on my cheek to let me know the wind blowers are still about. One should never take the wind blowers for granted.
They are brothers and sisters, in a constant battle for supremacy. Some days they work in unison, but usually they like to fight. Just watch the clouds as they float by. Some are pushed one way, and other the opposite. “Don’t push your clouds to me,” they holler at each other. Us mortals only hear it as wind whistling through the trees. Sometimes they rage, and if you are on the sea, you suffer the wrath.
I enjoy when the breeze is about. My windchimes tell dark spirits to stay away, and help fairies flit about the petals of my flowers. When a dandelion is ready to burst its white seeds, a breeze helps them dance. “Farewell” say the fairies, for it is they who nurtured the dandelion to this point. They are sad for only a breath, for more flowers require their attention.
Today I will listen to the whispers. The wind has many stories, and if you listen with your imagination, you might be lucky enough to hear one.
Yes I have rambled about this before, but it is something that bothers me.
Once again I heard the ridiculous comment “You’re doing it wrong”. (Ok, I read it on another’s post.) It pertained to the way a person wrote a mystery novella. I haven’t read it yet, but I can tell you this, they wrote it just right!
According to many, MANY, people and sites, there are rules you are expected to follow. It really annoys me. There is only your way. If you are confident, and comfortable, with how you do things, keep on doing it!
I will give an example that actually pertains to me. I hate indented paragraphs. I find they look sloppy, and make the paragraph have an unfinished feel to it. Apparently, indenting is the proper way to go. I say F. U. I like the spaces. It gives it a more finished look. I will always do it this way, and if that is the one thing you constantly find wrong with my writing, you have issues. My work has TONS more wrong with it!
Honestly, if you spend more time searching the “right way” to produce your manuscript, you have more to worry about. Ramble on paper. Let your muse flow. Don’t worry about how it looks, that is why you get another set of eyes to glance at it. However, stick to your guns about parts you really do not want changed. This is your work. You poured your life into it, so make certain you keep it yours. Follow your heart, but listen to your mind.
Do your own thing.