Good News!!

I am feeling so motivated with my writing lately, more motivated than I have been in a few years! 

I have done a lot of writing in my life, but I haven't known what to do with most of it.  Then I had a thought a couple days ago that there must be writing contests I can enter...and (of course) THERE ARE!

I found this awesome article.

31 Legit Free Writing Contests

Writing contests are nothing new and it probably seems pretty obvious, but I didn't realize I have been disregarding them all together because of an experience I had as a teenager.  In the article I linked to above, the author mentions a poetry contest they entered with the National Library of Poetry as a young writer.  They were so happy and proud when they found out their poem had been accepted into the book that was being published (that they would have to buy) and that they could also pay to have the poem put on a shiny plaque.

It turned out to be a scam and mostly every poem submitted was put into the book in order to get all of the poets to pay them money for the book and plaques.  I had completely forgotten, but I had entered that same contest with the same results when I was in high school!  As a teen, I was crushed when I found out it was a scam.  That was when I learned I should never have to pay to have my work published and so I think I subconsciously ignored any and all contests after that.

I don't mind giving away my writing for free if someone genuinely wants to read it, but when people try to make money off of authors and artists who are already struggling, that is where I draw the line.

Through the above article I found this website Inkitt that publishes novels online for free.  The more attention novels get on their site they may eventually assign them to a team of people who will work to publish and promote the novels to a larger audience.

Mine was approved to be on their site this morning, so if you haven't had a chance to purchase my very first book, The Awful Truth of Loving, but wanted to read it, you can now read it for free here!!  I think you may have to make a profile to read the books on the site, but that's it.

Thank you you guys so much for all of your support with my writing and art and comedy and everything.  It truly means the world to me :)

Sunday Morning Poem

Hey!  While I was away in Palm Springs I had a couple of lines/lyrics to a couple of different poems come to me in a dream.  That has only happened maybe once or twice before.  When I woke up I had to make sure to write them down before I forgot them.  Then this morning I was inspired to write both of them out and below is the very first draft of one of them.

I would say 99.9% of my poems are about love and heartbreak.  That seems to be my forte.  I am trying to branch out though, so this is an attempt at something more observational.

CoOL

We’re so consumed with looking cool, we can't see that we’re ice cold. 

All in the name of Not Growing Old. 

Corporations stealing identities until everything is sold. 

We think we’re so original, but do exactly as we’re told.

The kids today sure don’t seem all right. 

But are we any better in the middle of the night? 

Glued to our phones and TV screens so shiny, so bright. 

Reading every comment that’s left and reveling in every like. 

All the empty status updates are actually warning bells.

What good is pretending life is so peachy when we’re all going through hell?

If we wanna see change we’re going to have to do it ourselves. 

Pull out all of the chemicals in order to replace all of the shelves. 

And, yes, it’s hard to make change that’s why not many do it.

Taking one step at a time though is how to improve it.

Then standing closer together we can help each other get through it.

The alternative is to do nothing while refusing to admit that we blew it.

Update:  While reading my post I realized this could make a good rap song.  Maybe I'm secretly a rapper???

Poets.

So I am going through a blog I had kept starting back in 2010 and I am finding so many good quotes and pictures that I posted almost a decade ago.  I may be re-blogging some of them here.  I love going back through my old notebooks and journals and in this case, my blog to re-feel the things I felt back then.  And to see how far I have come and where I may still need some more work.

At the time I maintained this particular blog I was working in an office full-time and terribly depressed.  To give you an idea of the environment, there were about 60-70 of us in cubicles in a large open office space made up of thick cement walls, exposed cables and wires, florescent lights, and not a single window.

There was one glass door that exited to the employee parking lot.  And through that glass door I could see one skinny, little tree.  I remember looking out at that tree through every season for over 3 1/2 years.  That tree was all I had for 40+ hours a week to see what the weather was like outside.

This old blog was like a window to me.  I would look up pictures and quotes to post as much as I could in my free time because they made me smile, gave me hope, and helped me still feel connected to the outside world.

If you are interested in seeing the whole blog it is at http://easyluckyorfree-blog.tumblr.com/page/153

Here is one quote that is fitting for what I have been working on.

"A poet is somebody who feels, and who expresses his feelings through words.This may sound easy, but it isn’t. A lot of people think or believe or know they feel — but that’s thinking or believing or knowing; not feeling. And poetry is feeling — not knowing or believing or thinking. Almost anybody can learn to think or believe or know, but not a single human being can be taught to feel. Why? Because whenever you think or you believe or you know,you’re a lot of other people: but the moment you feel, you’re nobody-but-yourself.To be nobody-but-yourself — in a world which is doing its best, night and day, to make you everybody else — means to fight the hardest battle which any human being can fight; and never stop fighting. As for expressing nobody-but-yourself in words, that means working just a little harder than anybody who isn’t a poet can possibly imagine. Why? Because nothing is quite as easy as using words like somebody else. We all of us do exactly this nearly all of the time - and whenever we do it, we are not poets. If, at the end of your first ten or fifteen years of fighting and working and feeling, you find you’ve written one line of one poem, you’ll be very lucky indeed. And so my advice to all young people who wish to become poets is: do something easy, like learning how to blow up the world — unless you’re not only willing, but glad, to feel and work and fight till you die. Does this sound dismal? It isn’t. It’s the most wonderful life on earth.Or so I feel."

e.e. cummings

Independence Day

I have been alone on vacation for the past few days in Palm Springs for the 4th of July.  My main goal was to relax, enjoy some real A/C, and get much needed reading and writing done.  I am pleased to report that despite binge-watching MTV's Ridiculousness and Jersey Shore: Family Vacation since I have cable here, I am still succeeding on all fronts.

I Couldn’t Stop

They said you were a waste of time.  They said, “Just let him go.”

They don’t see the things I see; don’t know the things I know.

Like how for a moment I felt forever in my hand.

And how I know you gave me your all for as long as you could stand.

When I’m lookin’ at you, it’s the future that I see. 

And when I close my eyes, babe, it’s only you and me. 

And in my dreams is when I hear your voice. 

I couldn’t stop, baby, even if I had a choice.

Sun’s gone down.  Stars are out tonight. 

Remembering how it felt like we were about to take flight. 

Now all I have is this aching in my chest,

the one that seems to grow and grow, that will not let me rest.

When I’m lookin’ at you, it’s the future that I see. 

And when I close my eyes, babe, it’s only you and me. 

And in my dreams is when I hear your voice. 

I couldn’t stop, baby, even if I had a choice.

If we were starving on the street, I wouldn’t leave your side. 

And if it still didn’t work, well at least we tried?

‘Cause when I looked at you, it was the future that I saw. 

And when I closed my eyes, babe, I was ensnared inside your claws. 

In my dreams, I still can hear your voice. 

I can’t stop, baby, as if I was ever given a choice.

The Promise of You

Man.  Break-ups are THE WORST.  And as I am recovering from the latest in a long line of what feels like endless heartbreak, I felt inspired to write this poem/song(?) that tries to articulate that feeling of missing the good parts of someone that you once spent so much time with.  Because even though you can see how things had to happen the way they happened, it still doesn't erase the hopes you had for your happy ending.

And if anyone is wondering, yes, I am STILL working on my book of poetry (Someday Songs).  It is coming along slowly but surely and I can't wait to share them with the world.

The Promise of You

Don’t miss the mean things you said or the ways you played with my head.  

I don’t miss the cruel things you do.  Just miss the promise of you.

Don’t miss how you put yourself down or seeing your smile fade to a frown.  

I don’t miss wondering what parts of you are true.  But I do miss the promise of you.

Don’t miss struggling to give you more.  I don’t miss knowing that I’m rich, but feeling poor.

I don’t miss the fights that came out of the blue.  I just miss the promise of you.

...The promise of a better day.

...The promise that you might stay.

...The promise of your loving hand.

...The promise you might understand...me.

I don’t miss my empty home.  Sure don’t miss feeling so alone.

I don’t miss this pain I’m going through.  All I miss is the promise of you.

Yes, I’m still missing that empty promise of you.

Wordpress is Best.

I am slightly appalled that my last blog entry was in 2015!!  But then I have to remember that 2016 was one of the most transformative years of my life for good and bad reasons, so I was allowed to be absent from the internet.  But now I'm back.

And this post would have come a lot sooner if it weren't for me chasing waterfalls over the weekend on the sites wix.com and squarespace.com.  I had this vision of a bright, new, shiny blog with cool graphics and layouts, but I found out that neither of those sites were very user friendly and after starting two new blogs, I came back home to the familiar ground of Wordpress.  It may have more simple templates and graphics, but the usability of the site navigating from dashboard to page to post is phenomenal compared to those others.  So, here I stay!  For now...

Well, I have some exciting news!  While still working on the sequel to my first book The Awful Truth of Loving I have been going through some of my old notebooks and journals from high school and college and I found that I have written a good number of poems.  And a good number of them are actually good!  So, I decided I am going to work on a book of poetry for my next release to be called Someday Songs.  The reason for the title is that I have written a lot of my poetry as lyrics to songs.  Unfortunately, since I am not a music composer in the least sense I have not been able to turn those poems into songs.  Thus, Someday Songs!

Here is a sample of two poems that will be included in the collection.  One old and one new!

Don’t Fade On Me

I remember you so clearly.  The first one through the door. 

I return to find you drifting so far away from my shore. 

I remember feeling this way, the losing without knowing. 

You can fall asleep at night while the wind outside is blowing.

Don’t fade.  Don’t fade on me.

You made things so different.  You were the one to take me in.

You were the one I counted on above all.  You were my friend.

I can’t believe the way you treated me ‘cause it truly was a sin.

Stuck staring out the window wonderin’ what we could have been.

Don’t fade.  Don’t fade on me.

My clothes hang on a wire.  The sun is overhead.

But today I am so weary can’t will myself from bed.

Was it your love that took me under?  Or did I know too much?

It was somethin’ I could picture, but never could quite touch.

Don’t fade.  Don’t fade.  Don’t you fade on me.

Last Summer

Last summer, the terrible things I went through.

Last summer, when things you said weren’t true.

Last summer, decided to go with someone new.

Last summer, when everything ‘round me turned blue.

Last summer, you know when you went away?

Last summer, you know the games that you did play?

Last summer, you know when you had nothing left to say?

Last summer when you felt my disgust and had to turn away.

Last summer is when I saw that lost look in your eye.

Last summer is when I found out how much I could cry.

Last summer is when you whispered your goodbye.

Last summer is when I had to mend my wings and fly.

‘Cuz last summer is when it all went down.

Last summer is when you tore away my crown.

Last summer I picked my heart up off the ground.

'Cuz last summer is when I was finally found.