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.