Posted in My Work, Poems and Prose

BELIEVE

Blessed are those who see the dark; they shine upon the hour.

A light shines out a light shines in, a beacon on a tower.

They do not shun the lurking shadows; they do not close the doors.

Instead, they open up themselves and ask if there is more.

A tear will fall, a cry may sound, but every breath is strong.

Each battle fought with spitting fury regardless of how long.

In careful corners of the world
plays ignorance and innocence.
By circumstance or by their choosing,
confidence is but false bliss.

Blessed are those who see the dark; they shine upon the hour.

The truth be known, and shadows shown! And welcome in the power.

Posted in On Writing

Functional (writing) Goals

Guess what; it’s still January.
Only 24 days into 2022, so I’m still talking about preparing for the year.
In accord with my last week’s post, I’ve spent time shut away from the world every day. I’ve also attempted to use those moments as meaningful ways to enrich my writing skills. In doing so, I’ve found an interesting podcast. The Writers Block Party is new to me, and if it is new to you, this post may be of interest.

One episode I particularly enjoyed was about goals. Even though I’m a bit of an anti-new-year resolution person, I do believe in goals. I’m not going to spend time justifying why. I’m simply going to dive in and give an account of their podcast.

Continue reading “Functional (writing) Goals”
Posted in My Work, Poems and Prose

shadows

I feel the shadows slowly peel off the walls.

They quietly rip from the corners,

hungrily make their way towards me.

Blocking exits,

snuffing out light,

pausing now and again to be sure their victim is as weak as she appears.

Calculating their moves, working as one.

One of many.

So many against the weak and injured light of one.

Will she fall this time?

Even if she does not fall, they lick their lips anxious for a taste.

The taste of despair and failure.

The stench of rotten wasted hope entices them to creep closer.

A broken heart, a soiled soul, a lost cause.

All a feast for the darkness. All good things that end are for them.

All good things gone wrong, all dead dreams, hopes and love,

but mostly; faith.

I feel the shadows upon me.

Posted in Living Life, Random Thoughts

december

21 days left in 2020. Everyone talks about New Year resolutions, but what about end of year resolutions. And what about all those other sentiments such as “its not the destination but the journey” or “its not how you avoid conflict, it’s how you face it.” Well, 2020 is just about finished- how will it end for you? Will you start to make changes now or wait for something else to change you? Continue reading “december”

Posted in TBR list

GoodReads Monday: “The Resisters”

Goodreads Monday is a great way to talk about a book from your TBR list. Originally started by Lauren’s Page Turners, most people do these weekly, (such as Confessions of a YA Reader who partakes in several fun blog themes) I prefer to do mine monthly and this month I chose something a little different from my norm.

Gis Jen’s “The Resisters” is a science fiction dystopian novel that weaves in baseball as a part of its theme.  I’ve only recently heard about this book

while driving and listening to NPR’s Fresh Air on the radio.  Maureen Corrigan gave a compelling review and synopsis of Jen’s book and I decided I’d like to give it a try. You can read her review here if you’d like, otherwise, here’s the blurb from the Goodreads website:

TheResistersThe Resisters by Gish Jen

An audacious marvel of a novel about baseball and a future America, from the always inventive and exciting author of The Love Wife and Who’s Irish

The time: a not-so-distant future. The place: AutoAmerica. The land: half under water. The Internet—the new face of government—is “Aunt Nettie”: a mix of artificial intelligence, surveillance technology, and pesky maxims. The people have been divided, and no one is happy. The angel-fair “Netted” still have jobs and literally occupy the high ground, while the mostly coppertoned “Surplus” live on swampland if they’re lucky, on the water if they’re not.
     The story: To a Surplus couple—he was a professor, she’s still a lawyer—is born a Blasian girl with a golden arm. At two, Gwen is hurling her stuffed animals from the crib; by ten she can hit whatever target she likes with a baseball; her teens find her playing happily in an underground Surplus league. When AutoAmerica re-enters the Olympics—with a special eye on beating ChinRussia—Gwen attracts interest. Soon she’s at Net U, falling in love with her coach and considering “crossing over,” even as her mother is challenging the AutoAmerican Way with lawsuits that will prove very dangerous.
     An astonishing story of an America that seems only too possible, and of a family struggling to maintain its humanity in circumstances that threaten their every value—even their very existence.