Fan Stuff

Have you liked my posts? If you’re a fan of my writing or even a casual reader please take a look at my Patreon account. I promise not to zap you when you stop over. It is the fiction side of my writing.

What To Know

I’m completing a novel currently titled I’m In Love With A Gangsta. Not the final title obviously, but I had to start somewhere. Come and see the status. Check up on it periodically. I’ll let everyone know when it’s off to editing.

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If you wish to become a part of the process, dive in with me, become a Patron. Otherwise, your cheering on the sidelines is also much appreciated.

Thank you for your support! You are the best.

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Freedom or Romance? Could you choose?

Which is it? Think quick. What would your choice be? If you could only have one, and be able to live that one to its fullest, which would you choose? The choice is a fantasy. No one has absolute romance or absolute freedom and it may be one of those things that no one needs, but if it came down to one or the other do you know your preference? Maybe you didn’t realize there was a choice.

The choices:

Cinderella with her fairyland romance. The prince claiming her for his own and in front of all her naysayers announcing her as his bride. The ring on your finger, the kiss on the cheek, not to mention the passion. Certainly the wild roller-coaster ride of romance hits some, but it rarely lasts. They tell me it isn’t supposed to last. It’s supposed to blossom, develop and grow into a fully developed love. Now tell me again why we idolize the fairy tales? Is it their mature love? No, it’s the passion. It’s the feeling of belonging. Instant HOME.

Freedom to go anywhere you want to wear the colors of your choice, to think and act freely, even speak from your own mind. You walk in loyalty to those you wish to be loyal to, not having to compromise your true loyalties for the sake of country, political party, religious affiliations or family ties. To move with the wind and flow as the river. No checking in, no expectations, no disappointing others. But having no preset boundaries, no home base, some feel lost.

The truth is these are not either or choices. Just take a good look at the choices you have now in front of you. Make an aware choice. What are you giving up if you choose to take this job or that? What does your family expect of you? Your religion? Your friends? If you are free to move anywhere, to be anyone, what is your gain? What do you walk away from?

A good mix is the best. There’s a balancing of freedom and home ties and it changes at different points in your life. When you feel the pinch of your too tight shoes you know it’s time to squeeze your feet out of them and let them have some air. In the same way, when your personality feels cramped or your life feels dry, boring, or wasted, check your home ties or your freedom level. Adjust as necessary.

But the question still stands, if you could only choose one, which would it be?

Aside: Here’s some beautiful artwork which seems to me a nice mix of romance and freedom. http://stacykathryn.com/artwork/

What I’m Reading Now


I’m excited about two books right now. I am in love with SHIVER and I just finished it. That’s my fiction fun read. The other tidbit I’m reading is THE TRANCE OF SCARCITY. It’s quite an interesting nonfiction read.
One of my habits is to keep a running stream of current and interesting books. At least one nonfiction and obviously I always have a few tempting fictions to devour. SHIVER is one of those tempting and unusual books from the YA paranormal genre, wolves in the backyard and all of that creepy stuff. It kept me reading and that’s not an easy task. Through Sam’s eyes…

I let her take the stack from my hand and watched her face light up as she flipped through the pictures, looking for one in particular. “There. That one’s my favorite of you.”

For a quote from THE TRANCE OF SCARCITY,

Once we’ve assigned a meaning…We then pass on our conclusions to our neighbors and children and students….then they too, treat the Story as though it’s the Truth. Now the Story may persist for centuries, generation after generation, as though chiseled into the side of a mountain.

SHIVER
THE TRANCE OF SCARCITY
The world is made up of stories, not atoms. Muriel Rukeyser

KATE’S REVENGE/DUST TO DUST


This is my latest project. Short story or Novel…hmmm. I’m not sure yet. Tell me what you think.

The saloon was dark. The shadow Kate cast on the floor as she stood in the open doorway was swallowed when she entered the room and walked to the bar. Her hand reached to touch the mahogany wood. Dust accumulated around her fingertips as she caressed the bar’s smooth surface. Once pleasure was drunk here. Now it seemed as if time stood still. Like a time before there was time. The moment before creation began. Before the spark of life, before the first breath. But she was just being melancholy.
She whispered his name. The name of the one that brought her here. Jake. He wasn’t here, nor would he ever be again. He had lay dead here. In a pool of his own blood, from a fight of his own making. This was his place and she meant to have it.
Kate blew, scattering the dust from her fingers. Life would come. His life would flow back into this building even if she had to bring him back from the dead.
She clenched her fist, her knuckles raked against the bar’s dusty surface.
This place would stand. Not in memory of his name. No. His name held no honor. But in memory of his promise and the faith she had held in a man who once was to be her husband. With one sweep of her hand she removed the dust of a lifetime to begin another. Her own.

Sharing


I remember a movie called “Conagher.” Katharine Ross plays a lonely widow on the prairie whose only form of expression is tying notes onto tumble weeds and watching the wind take them.
We as people have to express ourselves. Sometimes it’s in the way we dress or the color of our car, but in some way you have to tell your story. Whether anyone listens is irrelevant. Yes I know, it is nice when people agree, but we can’t be too affected by others agreements. Whether people listen or not, we must tell our story.

A word is dead
when it is said
some say.
I say it just
begins to live that day.
-Emily Dickinson
VI. A Word