Showing posts with label blogger. Show all posts
Showing posts with label blogger. Show all posts

Tuesday, May 26, 2015

Dark Space By Geneva Johnson

 
 
Despair , sadness & fogginess hover over me from  nowhere… at least I think nowhere  but  really it does have a place where it comes from I just can’t identify it 
 
Bad Memories, metaphors & losses flood my mind in no particular order
 
The daily weight  of life mixed with lurking depression sap the  productivity right out of my daily functions. 
 
I try to clear my mind but… to no avail. I can’t do it.. I’m stuck… only GOD… ONLY  GOD can open the locked tight door that I fail to get past
 
How do I mark these words correctly so you can see What can I say?
 
Minutes pass as my angst grows over my listlessness. Why can’t I just table this
Why won’t it let go?     
 
I have the ability to do better but it has been swiped away and held captive for now,  I stand in quicksand, if y it's your will
 
I am held fast in this dark space of void, I want to escape and be free and be happy and be light and energetic and vibrant again .... dark space.. let me out…
 
 
G ’15
Geneva Johnson
Oklahoma City, OK
@All Rights reserved
 
 

Monday, July 16, 2012

Every Twenty-Four Hours Author: Cynthia Johnson

Cynthia Johnson
Synopsis:

Eileen knows she is a ticking time bomb. Breast cancer runs in her family: Her mother and grandmother both died of the disease. And yet, when Eileen herself falls ill and must undergo a double mastectomy, she’s unprepared for the shock of confronting her own mortality. For help, she leans hard on her family: her eccentric and outspoken aunt, a kind friend who embodies the word “sisterhood,” her red-headed cousin whose free-spirited nature results in a revolving door of men as diverse as the United Nations, but who gives Eileen an unselfish gift that leaves the entire family speechless, and her two spirited young sons, who bring out her momma lioness.

Eileen’s certain she can teach her cancer a lesson; but cancer has some lessons in store for her. As she battles her disease, she must confront the true nature of her relationship with her less-than-loving boyfriend, she must reconcile her own cancer experiences with memories of her mother and grandmother, she must turn to God and faith more than ever before, and when an old flame reappears in her life, she might finally get her happily ever after—but only if she can find the strength to seize it for herself.

Excerpt:
Scene 1
Overwhelmed, she let her head fall toward the table, and she buried her tear-soaked eyes in the bend of her arm. Why is this happening to me? Her chest felt heavy. Her mind was singed like blades of grass during a summer drought. Deep within there was still life, but the diagnosis made her exterior crumble. Seconds later a nauseous feeling overcame her, and she rushed to the bathroom, fell to her knees, and emptied the contents of her stomach in the toilet. She tucked her dangling hair behind her ears and rested her hands on the white porcelain throne as clear liquid continued to come up. When the flow had finally stopped, she slowly lifted herself up. Her knees cracked as her legs straightened. Standing, she made her way across the linoleum to the small wooden vanity. A toothbrush and a washcloth freshened her up instantly, but neither removed the excruciating pain of reality tearing through her head.

Scene 2
The corners of his mouth turned up. Eileen’s cheeks warmed. Within milliseconds, her insides felt mushy as a Popsicle on a hot summer’s afternoon. He was tall, handsome, clean-cut, and somewhere in his early twenties. His broad chest sculpted his tailored blue suit, and the scent of his cologne, geraniums with a woody musk base was a delight to her nose. Her mouth filled with saliva. Now she understood the hype in psych class about Pavlov’s dog. She swallowed several times.
“Are you okay?” he asked.
“Yes.” She stood before him, mesmerized. Was jet fuel pumping through her veins instead of plasma? All she knew was that her head was definitely in the clouds.

Scene 3
“Okay, but did you make sure the gun is still here?” Sammy asked.
“No, but he wouldn’t take the gun. We only have it in case someone breaks in.”
“I don’t think he’d take it either, but I’d feel a whole lot better if you checked. You remember no one thought Tony would try to commit suicide either.”

“That’s ridiculous!” There he goes again comparing James’s emotional state to his father’s.“If it’ll make you shut up, I’ll show you,” she shouted. Eileen stormed to her bedroom. The sea-blue walls looked red through her enraged lenses. She grabbed hold of the doorknob and slung opened the closet door. It crashed into the plaster. But she didn’t care. Sammy had hit a nerve—severed the damn thing with his ice-pick tongue. Eileen pulled out the footstool that James had made her in shop class from beneath the rack of clothes. She saw Sammy watching her tensely. With her feet planted firmly against the wood grain, she reached high on top of the shelf where she kept the gun beneath an old blanket. Sammy offered to help, but she ignored him. Hadn’t he done enough? She ran her hand along the wooden shelf and could feel a metal handle graze her fingertips. With her fingers locked around the metal, she pulled her hand back for Sammy to see. The proof was in her grasp. He was going to eat his words. All of them—choke on them like a big fat side of beef.

Get to Know CJ:
1. Where do you get your inspiration for your books?
I get my inspiration from my environment.  I write about things that I’ve been affected by in some way or that I’ve heard about or seen in my environment.  I select a topic and a message I want to communicate about that topic.  Then, I build a story around it.
2. What other books have you written? 
My first novel was Stop the Music, a story about domestic violence.  My second novel was Straw Dreams, a story about one girl’s dream to escape a dysfunctional family environment for a better life.  This May, I released my third novel, Every Twenty-Four Hours, which is a story about breast cancer.
3. Who are some of your favorite authors?
I don’t read as much as I’d like because I work full time, volunteer for Hospice, and am always trying to write something.  However, some of the authors I enjoy are Lisa Dale, Terry McMillan, and Toni Morrison.
 4. What’s the hardest part of writing a novel?
The hardest part of writing a novel for me is editing.  It’s difficult to become unemotionally involved with the characters to make the tough choices about cutting or rewriting scenes.  However, the goal is to make the manuscript flow nicely for readers so making those choices are necessary.
5. What advice would you give others who dream about seeing their manuscripts in print?
I’d tell them to self-publish. They should never let someone else define their destiny.  Some of the rejection letters are brutal, but you can’t let that stop you from accomplishing something you believe in. I don’t ever want to look back at life and know that I didn’t accomplish something I wanted because I let someone else discourage me.
6. How do you react to reviews about your novels?
Everyone wants a good review, but we’re people and we aren’t all the same and don’t enjoy the same types of books.  I believe there is a market for the inspirational stories that I write, so I don’t mind it if someone doesn’t like my novels.  I just hope everyone doesn’t feel that way.
 7. What do you hope to have accomplished with your writing in ten years?
 I hope that the amount of people that I touch with my novels grows by leaps and bounds, and I’d love to someday see something I’ve written be translated to the big screen. But mostly, I hope readers feel empowered by my heroines’ journeys.

Cynthia Johnson (CJ) is a Christian, wife, mother, college graduate and a career woman.  She is also a breast cancer survivor and Caring Angel volunteer for Hospice of Dayton.  CJ has been jotting down storylines and poetry since grade school.  She has self-published two previous novels, Stop the Music and Straw Dreams, which are both inspirational novels that deal with her love of and dependence on God. She loves animals and long walks on the beach with her husband of twenty-five years.  She someday hopes to retire from her day job and lead a national cancer initiative to provide family support services for cancer patients.

Tuesday, July 3, 2012

Her Sweetest Revenge Author Saundra Jones


Author Saundra Johnes
Mya Bedford is a seventeen year old daddy's girl from the Brewster Douglas Project in Detroit. When her father is sent to prison, and her mother suddenly develops a drug habit, making it her number one priority; it is up to Mya to raise her younger brother and sister. Alone and aware of the grimy hustle of the streets; Mya hopes to find another path for survival. But when the leader of the a notorious gang severely beats her mother for stealing money from him, Mya vows revenge on his crew by robbing them at gunpoint and hiding her identity behind a mask. Mya successfully pulls off her first robbery against one of them but then she meets and falls in love with the very person who is attached to her enemy and is now determined to keep her secret a secret. However when Mya s secret starts to unravel and death knocks at her door, things go horribly wrong. Mya learns that hurt and happiness are one in the same but you have to have blood on your hand first.

Excerpt
After the visit with my dad I headed straight back to the Brewster feeling a little relieved and trying to figure out what he was talking about. As I approached my building I could see Li’l Bo standing in the hallway. Before I got to him I could tell that he was upset.

“What’s up, Li’l Bo? Why are you standing out here?” I questioned him as I felt myself getting nervous.

“Momma!” Li’l Bo eyes were filled with tears. “One of these "Explicit"  beat her. And she won’t say who,” Li’l Bo said in short, hurried breaths.

“What!” I screamed. I pushed past him and rushed up the ten flights of stairs to get to our floor since the elevator was broken again. Explicit is always broke in these damn projects. I’m so tired by the time I run up all those stairs I can barely breathe. The door was wide open to our apartment, and the living room looked like it’s been tossed.

“Ma!” I shouted out heading straight to her room. “Oh, GOD!” I screamed but I didn’t even hear the words as they left my mouth. One look at her face sent rage through me. Her naturally red bone face was black and blue, her right eye was swollen shut, and her bottom lip was covered in crusty dried-up blood. “Come on, Momma, we gotta get you to a hospital.” I reached down and tried to lift her off the bed.

“No, Mya. I’ll be OK.” One single tear rolled down her already soaked face.

“I’ve been trying to get her to go to the hospital, Mya, but she won’t listen.” Monica tried to speak through her choked up voice. Her face was also swollen from crying.

“You need to go to the hospital, Momma. Something could be broken, and why are you holding your arm like that? Can you move it? Do you think it’s broken?” I reached over to help her lift the arm up, but she quickly pushed me off.

“Ugh, ugh, Mya, don’t touch it.” She tried to lift it herself. “AGGHH!” she screamed in agonizing pain. “I don’t think it’s broken, but it hurts like hell.” She bent over in pain.

Explicit all this, I’m calling the cops.” I rushed over to grab the phone off the dresser, but the cord got caught under my shoe and it fell to the floor.

“No, no, Mya!” she shouted. “Don’t do that. You’ll only make it worse. I’ll be OK,” she begged me.
“Well, tell me who did this. Who did this to you?” I shouted again.

“That doesn’t matter. I’m OK,” she tried to convince me.

“Monica, leave the room.” I pointed toward the door.

“But—” Monica tried to protest.

“Monica, leave the room. Now!” I screamed.

Monica got off the bed slowly and walked out. I slammed the door behind her. In a quiet voice I demanded answers from Momma.

“I want to know who did this to you and why. I won’t leave this room until I know.”

“Why does it matter, Mya? I ain’t shit but a prostitute and crack ho,” she said calmly while looking off into space. “This type of thing is bound to happen to me . . . or worse. I’m lucky every day if somebody don’t rape me and leave me for dead in an alley.”

Not trying to hear a word she was saying, I broke her trance when I got directly in her face and started screaming at her. “Do you think it’s okay for someone to do this to you? And then you try to protect him? Tell me now, goddamit!” I screamed again. “Who did this to you?” The look in my eyes had to be raging because my insides felt like they were on fire.

I think I surprised her with my rage because she had shock in her eyes. “Mya, I’m still your mother regardless of my fucked life,” she said, her voice still calm.

“Right now you are acting like a teenager, Ma, but you don’t have to tell me who did this to you. I already know. This got Squeeze’s name all over it.” I turned to leave the room, but before I did she started talking.

“He came over while y’all was gone, okay? Is that what you wanna hear, Mya?” With agonizing pain written across her face she repositioned herself on the bed. “We had sex. When we were finished he went to the bathroom to take a shower. He came outta the bathroom and started getting dressed, and then he went into his pants’ pocket and started counting his stack. All of a sudden he starts accusing me of stealing from him. I told him I didn’t touch his stuff. And, Mya, I swear I didn’t.” She looked me straight in the eye convincingly.

“I didn’t move out of this bed when he went into that bathroom. I would never steal from a Explicit but he wouldn’t listen to me, Mya.” She started to cry. Seeing my momma cry sent me into more tears. “The next thing I know he was punching me. I must’ve passed out sometime during the beating. I don’t know what happened after that. When I woke up, Monica was standing over me screaming.”

“I knew he did this.” I broke down on the floor. “I hate living here. I hate our life.” At that moment everything my dad said to me suddenly seemed clear. These streets were grimy, and the only thing that was free in the street was hurt and pain. I stood up, wiped my face, and walked toward my mother’s bedroom door.

Mom jumped off the bed and grabbed me with her good hand. Unable to see straight because of that swollen eye and the pain she stumbled. “Mya, don’t tell Li’l Bo. I’m afraid for him, and if knows he might try to kill Squeeze. I don’t want to see him locked up or shot up by the Boone Squad. I just couldn’t take it.” She reached out and wrapped her good arm around me. For the first time in four years I felt like I had my momma back.

I quickly released myself from her embrace. “Even though Squeeze deserves exactly what he’ll get one day, I won’t tell Li’l Bo. But only because I love my brother. I don’t give a Explicit about Squeeze or what may happen to him.”

I opened the door and left her room with a calm feeling that for some reason sent chills down my spine.


Get to Know Saundra:

Saundra Jones grew up in Cleveland Mississippi and as an adult now resides in Indiana. She is married with two daughters ages 11 and 5 years old. Originally she started writing screen plays at the age of twelve and as an adult her need to create intensified. This intensity produced her first self published novella titled “Owning Up”. Unable to stop there and with the voices and emails of fans requesting more she penned two more novels. Her journey as a published writer began with Delphine Publications in 2012 and is currently working on her next project.

Why did you start writing?

I have always possessed a busy imaginative mind. When I was in the 5th grade my teacher assigned us to write a short court room play with a fake trail I hated that assignment. However, when I started too created create the characters I didn’t want to stop. By the age twelve years old I was writing skits all the time just to entertain myself.

What inspires you?

Creativity inspires me I love to see ideas come to life. It amazes me how you can start from nothing and come full circle.

How is your debut going to place you among the circle?

My debut is going to clarify my true passion for writing and my natural ability for storytelling.
What is your book about?

Her Sweetest Revenge is about a young woman who chooses to speak up for her family using the only way she knows how, getting justice by any means necessary.

What is next for you?

Well I have completed a romance novel that is coming up. And I am currently working on a new project.

What are your hobbies?

My hobbies are reading, writing, and watching television.

How can readers contact you?
Sjones34@live.com
Author: Saundra Jones on Facebook
@authorsaundra on twitter
Contact Saundra:
Project Name: Her Sweetest Revenge
Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/pages/Author-Saundra-Jones/334550093223404\
Twitter: https://twitter.com/#!/authorsaundra
Email address: sjones34@live.com
Purchase books at: www.amazon.com and www.barnesandnoble.com

Wednesday, June 27, 2012

Are You Destined to Get to Heaven?

The Empowerment Zone

Are You Destined to Get to Heaven?
[Life-Changing Content Inside!]
David Newby
Life Development Strategist
aka The Spiritual Entrepreneur
Hi My Friends,

I don't usually send weekly announcements such as this to The Empowerment Zone group. Yet, I am a bit saddened by what I have read so far on a site called Divine Revelations: http://bit.ly/MmDixa

It discusses spiritual salvation, what you need to do to make it to Heaven, and real-life testimonies of Heaven and Hell. Now, I'm sure you agree that before we even think about going higher in life here on earth, we need to make sure we secure a spot 'there' in Heaven (which is much better than anything on earth). Besides, our life in our mortal bodies is gone in the blink of an eye as compared to our everlasting life in the spiriual realm.

With sadness, fear, and trembling I say that not everybody makes it to Heaven. And I received a revelation last night that Jesus 'weeps daily' for the lost souls bound for hell. As a Christian and believer of salvation through Jesus, I felt that even I needed to go higher in God through Christ to receive a spot in Heaven when my life is done here. After checking out some of the testimonies on Divine Revelation, I have a new level of devotion to serving God and ministering to others. This is the reason I decided to pass this site forward to you and others. I pray that you will at least check it out for a few minutes and make sure you're right with God! Here is that site again: http://bit.ly/MmDixa

Please share this post with as many people in your network as possible. In The Empowerment Zone group, we aspire to go higher here on earth. However, we want to be absolutely certain we are worthy of entering the presence of God and living with Him in eternity once we leave here. Amen?
May God bless you and teach you of His grace and mercy.

Let's go higher here (on earth) so we can get there (Heaven),

David Newby
Life Development Strategist
aka The Spiritual Entrepreneur
http://www.davidgnewby.com

PS. Learn the truth about Heaven and Hell here: http://bit.ly/MmDixa

PSS. If you're not already a member of The Empowerment Zone, join here and go higher with us! http://bit.ly/w0uwiP

PSSS. Are you ready to grow in God yet? I can help. Get a Free 30-Minute Spiritual Consulting Session with me and become empowered to walk in God to achieve your purpose in life (Only 4 Spots Available!).
Schedule here: http://bit.ly/uJBZNb

Wednesday, November 9, 2011

Encouragement for Today's times

LadyMonica Kaye

Nothing will fall out of the sky into our laps. Because the Lord ordained work for man, laziness is sin. “Go to the ant, you sluggard! Consider her ways and be wise” (Proverbs 6:6).

The Bible has a great deal to say about laziness. Proverbs is especially filled with wisdom concerning laziness and it has a great deal of information warnings the lazy person. Proverbs tells us that a lazy person hates work: “The sluggard's craving will be the death of him, because his hands refuse to work” (21:25); he loves sleep: “As a door turns on its hinges, so a sluggard turns on his bed” (26:14); he gives excuses: “The sluggard says, ‘There is a lion in the road, a fierce lion roaming the streets’” (26:13); he wastes time and energy: “He who is slothful in his work is a brother to him who is a great waster” (18:9 KJV); he believes he is wise, but is a fool: “The sluggard is wiser in his own eyes than seven men who answer discreetly” (26:16).

Proverbs also tells us at the end what is in store for the lazy sluggard: A lazy person becomes a servant (or debtor): “Diligent hands will rule, but laziness ends in slave labor” (12:24); his future is bleak: “A sluggard does not plow in season; so at harvest time he looks but finds nothing” (20:4); he may come to poverty: “The soul of of the diligent shall be made rich” (13:4 KJV).

LadyMonica/MyS

ARE YOU AN ANT OR A GRASSHOPPER?
Founder of MyScars
https://www.facebook.com/#!/groups/MyScars/
 

Friday, October 14, 2011

My Chocolate Fantasy

My Chocolate Fantasy
Everyone has a fantasy......a favorite fantasy....that one that always finds a way to bring a suspicious smile to your lips.....every single day. What makes fantasies so delicious is the amount of detail we can apply to each and everyone. Most fantasies are pretty much the same across the board. Wealth to own our own tropical island paradise, fame, world peace, and the list is infinite at best. But we all also have a favorite fantasy.

Mine.....my favorite fantasy....happens to be  the  most beautiful piece of the purest chocolate. When I unwrap her, she melts in my arms....in my hands...all over my finger tips. Her taste is so smooth, sweet, and creamy in texture, I'm instantly lost in the sheer exstacy of the moment. With each kiss, her flavor stays on my lips for hours.

Looking into her eyes is like staring into a perfect diamond, endless prisms of color, with more sparkle than the brightest of stars. Her smile illuminates my days, as well as my nights. The sound of her name alone is comparable to some of the most beautiful music I have ever had the privilidge to enjoy. Like most chocolate, her body is smooth with the most impressive curves and tone imaginable. Her height is just right, when I hold her, she can rest her head on my chest, just about even to my chin. What ever wrapping she choses to present herself in accentuates every God blessed detail His hand made chocolate creation possesses. Now, for my favorite details. She is a lover of Christ, a believer in His word. She can find comedy in virtually everything, meaning when we are together, the laughter hardly ceases.

Her taste in music, is the taste of an artist. Totally understanding that there is so much more to music than culture or genre, because she is an artist herself, able to make a canvas come to life with every stroke of her magic brush. She is able to express herself in everyway to be expected...and a few ways that I don't expect, thats life with an artist. She has a heart big enough to save the world, if there were truly a way she could. I anticipate every moment to be in her pesence, I enjoy every moment in her company. The time apart from her is like total incompleteness, an emptiness void of love, and even life itself. We may disagree on a few things, but those occassions are rare, and our love for each other is never questioned.

She takes me to a whole different level, in mind, body , and soul. I desire to be the best I can be for her, and she knows this. If there ever was a true definition of a soul mate, thats what we are to each other. So there you have it. She is out there..and she knows without a doubt, that she is my chocolate fantasy

Emmett Douglas

Wednesday, September 14, 2011

"Affirmation for Today's Times" Author "Joy Netter"

"Peace I leave with you, my peace I give unto you: not as the world giveth, give I unto you. Let not your heart be troubled, neither let it be afraid." - John 14:27 Without a deep inner state of quietness, one becomes prey to tension, worry, and ill health. A song, a sunset, moonlight, the sea washing on a sandy shore, these administer a healing balm. But they lack power to penetrate the inner recesses of the soul.

A profound depth therapy is required to attain healing quietness. A habitual repetition of this one text will, in time, permeate your personality with a complete sense of peace.

When tense or restless, sit quietly and allow God's words from John 14:27 to pass unhindered through your thoughts. Conceive of them as spreading a healing balm throughout your mind.





Here's to Inner Peace and Quietness, Joy Netter
Enhanced by Zemanta

Wednesday, September 7, 2011

Empowerment Moments with Pastor Rebecca Simmons

A Word To The Hurting!

Hello everyone. One thing that I have realized is that there are still a great many women out there who are hurting. As women, we go through so much in life. We have to put up with husbands who act like they have lost their minds, children who do not appreciate or ho...nor us the way they should, employers who harass us or take advantage of our status as Christians, friends who treat us more like enemies than friends and for the single women, men who don't know a good thing when they see one!


God wants you to know today that He sees your pain. I was in prayer on Tuesday, and the Lord revealed to me that although we are preachers, pastors, apostles, prophets, evangelists, teachers, authors, entrepreneurs, mothers, wives, and very important people on our jobs, many of us are suffering with a secret pain. I mean, how do we tell people that we are hurting so much when they think we have it all together? How do we tell people about our crazy acting husbands, foolish acting children, mountain high pile of bills, lonely nights, frustrated moments and seasons of doubt, distraction and discouragement? Who will understand what we are going through without judging or pointing their fingers and saying “See, I told you she wasn't all that?:

Well, I'm here to tell you that God knows all about those moments of pain and frustration that you have been going through. God knows about the times when you have cried, and He knows about the times when you have felt like throwing up your hands and giving up. God knows about the lonely nights, and He even knows why you went out with that person who you swore you would never go out with again! God knows!


God knows about the heartaches and the headaches. He knows about the sleepless nights and the times when you just kept eating and eating just trying to make yourself feel better. God knows about the reason that you drink so much and He knows about the fact that you have been trying to put that marijuana down and stop using that cocaine. God sees you and He knows.

I didn't come to point a finger at you and accuse you of not having it all together. I came to tell you that God loves you and that He cares about you. I came to tell you that God is watching over you and in spite of your shortcomings, God still has a great plan for you. I came to tell you that the very fact that you are reading this is a sign to you that God knows your name and He knows your pain. Everything really is going to be all right. It's not over until God says it's over. Everything wrong in your life is going to be made right. God is going to provide for your every need and He is going to heal your broken heart. He is going to open doors that no man can close and yes, He can even take away every unhealthy addiction! Don't give up. Give it to God. Give your pains, your burdens, your worries, your heartaches, your headaches, your lack, your relationship, your husband, your boyfriend, your children, your financial situation, your need for a job or clients, your haters, your enemies, your church, your ministry, everything! Give it all to God and He will take care of it.

Not only will God take care of all that concerns you, but God will take care of you. I know this is long, but God put a burden on my heart today for some hurting women. If you are one of them, receive this word from the Lord. Everything is going to be okay! Hold on! Don't quit! Help is on the way! God is the God of the turn around and He is in the process of turning that thing around!

Let us pray! Father God, I praise your Holy Name. I thank you for my sister who is reading this right now. Father, my sister is hurting. She is going through some secret pain and I pray for her right now. Father, I ask that you will heal my sister. I ask that you will strengthen her and give her the power to make it through this storm. I bind up the hand of the enemy off of her life and I declare her victorious over whatever it is that is troubling her. I give my sister to you right now and we both come to you and cast all of our cares on you knowing that you care for us. So, Father I thank you for giving my sister beauty for ashes and joy for mourning. I thank you that no weapon formed against her can prosper. I thank you that she has total victory in every area of her life. So Lord, I lift this prayer up to you in total faith that you hear and that you will answer. In the name of Jesus I pray. Amen!

God bless you my sister. Remember that weeping may endure for a night, but joy comes in the morning! Remember that God loves you and so do I. Now go in peace and serve the Lord!See More

Tuesday, August 30, 2011

Daily Affirmation "Emmett Grizzly Douglas" Gatekeepers To Our Minds!

"Emmett Douglas"

Gatekeepers To Our Minds


Keeping an "open mind" is not a good thing. It sounds like a good thing, and it may even feel good to say it, but keeping an "open mind" is dangerous. Your mind is where all of your most intimate details of your life resides. It's the place where your personal belief system flourishes without negative influence, and is allowed to grow. Consider your mind as a 10 acre farm, with a huge gate all the way around it. The gate is for security, for you, and your family, and property. 

There is a world of chaos outside your gate, as well as a world of true beauty. You should never leave that gate open, as to allow anything that wants in access to you, and whats yours. You will wake up one day, and there is so much going on inside your gate that you can hardly remember what you are trying to protect by having a gate in the first place. Things will become issues, and priority that you don't even really believe in, but it's all inside of your gated personal property now, and has become a part of you before you realized it. 

There are some positive things, and some wonderful things that came thru your open gate also, but you have to search for them, and single them out apart from the chaos. When you choose to keep your gate closed, and you guard it. You can see everything passing by on the other side of the gate, whether good, or bad. When something wants in, it has to have your permission. You measure it by your personal standards, as well as the potential affect it may have on everything else inside your gate. 

If it is in line with you, and your system, then you welcome it in your world, and close the gate right behind it. I don't believe in keeping an "open mind", simply because, I only let in what I want to be with me, I can make that choice, without allowing something free access to my mind. Thats why we are to be the gatekeepers to our minds.


Special Note: Emmett Douglas will bring a new feature to this blog look forward to seeing his poems on Friday's…and affirmation that change your mindset~!

https://www.facebook.com/notes/emmett-grizzly-douglas/gatekeepers-to-our-minds/160881093992217



Enhanced by Zemanta

Sunday, July 17, 2011

"My Birthday Is Just Around The Corner"

I was born July 18th, 1960...so you do the math! I will be a another year older by midnight, and like they say another year wiser hummmm! I'm not sure what I going to do yet... I do have on my BUCKET list hopfully my friends I sharing a "Purple Tini" at Nona's downtown in Oklahoma City! Why a "Purple Tini" that's my favorite color and I've alway's wanted to have a grown up version of a "Martini" oh yes call me silly yet a girl is gotta have good safe fun for her birthday!


I'm graceful for having another year added to my life, I've also added a bucket list of things to do before the year is out... One of those things is being more creative on my blog...adding more zest in the things I would like to accomplish... Letting go of the old things that movtivated me and moving forward more each and everyday!

So here's to being one more year older and finding new thing's to do! I've been blessed beyond measure, hopefully God has more surprises around the corner for me! I'm truly graceful already for my health and strength! And all the many blessing he has already givin me! So here's to  celebrating all the great things that already happen and the many more things God has in store!


Tuesday, April 19, 2011

Frenonia Roberts leads an idyllic life, if you ask her baby sister Rhonda, her best friend Sharmayne and anyone else looking in on her glamorous, Buppie existence in Atlanta, where she high-steps it through her days as a young entrepreneur, the owner of TheWeAreFamily Bookstore and Coffeeshop.  
She is the apple of her mother’s eye, a pacesetter spearheading the city’s National Black Arts Festival, hostess of the esteemed Isis Book Club and the flame in J.T.’s heart…until, that is, Free closes the bookstore one evening and bows to the whim of a supernatural breeze guiding her Mercedes towards Techwood Homes, a throwaway neighborhood off her normal route back to the suburbs.  Free, glad to be, has no warning that a simple turn in the road will catapult her into a devastating, downward spiral to a place she’s never known…until now.

In turmoil, Free watches as worlds collide and hearts weep.  Used to being the epitome of control, she learns to surrender to an unseen power moving for her good, even when she craves little more than an endless night.  Meanwhile, the people closest to Free can’t stay her inevitable plunge; they’re too busy handling their own dilemmas: treading water, battling demons and stumbling through their own mazes.  How is Free to know an aged stranger with the South in her mouth would be the saving grace she and the others (Rhonda, Sharmayne, Pinky, Pastoria and J.T.) would need to lead them back to love?

A novel about the healing power of love and redemption, about betrayal and longing, about family and its many forms, If You Love Me, Come resonates with lyrical language and reservoirs of emotion.  Claudia Moss, a storyteller from a long line of Southern storytellers, plants her post in literature.
CLAUDIA MOSS is a novelist, poet, blogger, motivational speaker and talk show host.  She is a former College Board consultant and a former DeKalb County English educator.  The author of the adolescent novel Dolly: Memoirs of a High School Graduate, Claudia has contributed to several anthologies.  She resides in Clarkston, Georgia, with her family.  If You Love Me, Come is her second novel. 

Get to Know Claudia

What inspires you: to live, to write, to express yourself?

“I am captivated with the notion that we were made in the Creator’s image, that we are creators and that we have the power to attract the life that we want to live. I am drunk on the thought that we can speak the colors, the brilliant and vibrant colors, like artfully splashed paint, onto the canvas of our lives, and be who we want to be!”

Who are your idols as far as writers?

“I adore so many writers, of which you are one! Idols? Hmmm. There has never been a time when I was not in love with the works of Toni Morrison, Fiona Zedde, and Alice Walker. I admire Terry McMillan, Edwidge Danticat, Pearl Cleage, August Wilson, Trisha R. Thomas and Helen Elaine Lee. I have yet to read Odessa Rose’s “Water in A Broken Glass,” but I have heard she is a wonderful stylist.”

What advice do you have for writers who are just starting out?

“Know who you are. Don’t write to emulate someone you admire who writes. Never bother to write to chase a dollar; it will only lead you to a job. Go within, meet your talents and passion, and if you are a writer, you will do what you cannot help but do: you will write. No matter what. That kind of passion will save you, baptize you, caress you when the rejections come and see you through when the work is done and you, holding it, realize all over again how very much you love the art.”

What can we expect from you, Ms. Moss, in the next few years?

“Creation!  This year, I will introduce a new character, unique and outspoken, in a collection that I am proofing now.  Her name is Wanda B. Wonders, and she is the Everywoman counterpart of Langston Hughes’ famous character, Jessie B. Simple.  My first poetry collection will be published this year as well.  On the drawing board are plans to delve into children and adolescent literature, as my first book was an adolescent novel, DOLLY: The Memoirs of a High School Graduate.

“In addition, in the next few years there will be a Claudia Moss calendar series and a card line.  I will further explore being on both sides of the camera in sensual, interracial and multicultural views.  A one-woman show is planned with burlesque and other manifestations of dance, poetry and dramatic readings.  From my travels, I anticipate penning a travel log.  I will write a screenplay and make my mark in film and television. And of course, there will be other novels, (lesbian, main stream, romance, and erotica) anthologies that I will edit and publish, fiction collections and stage productions.  In short, I will be somewhere doing Claudia Moss as only I can!  Quite frankly, I am an ambitious soul!  You can expect me to shatter barriers and tap dance on whom I shouldn’t be!”

In terms of novel writing, how do you feel about quality vs. quantity?  Do you believe one can effectively achieve both?

“I would like to be a bestselling author with the capacity to publish a yearly blockbuster like the next author, who makes her living this way. “But realistically, I know that to produce the literature that spotlights quality, attention to detail, and provocative subjects and themes, one must slip outside of time and wade the River Styx, going deaf and dumb to chasing the dollar, and marinate and stew and write and ponder and rewrite and bake and baste the details and pray and cry and write and then and only then, walk towards a printer or publisher. Whichever, I will always cast my lot for quality vs. quantity, for I want my work to speak for me, for itself, when I am no longer here and my footsteps have been effaced in the sand.

“Yes, I believe one can effectively achieve both, if one has been writing and rewriting and placing the manuscripts in a safe, waiting for the magic moment when the works can be published yearly, much like J. K. Rawlings.  Remember?  She had written, what, four or five Harry Potter novels and had them boxed away, when she released the first book in her infamous series.  Great timing I’m sure she didn’t plan!”

Tell us a little about your writing process. How long did it take to complete your novel? Do you have a certain place or need a certain ambiance in order to feel creative? Do you set aside “X” amount of time to write each day or do you wait until inspiration strikes?

“I once wrote every morning, when I left the English classroom. There was usually no preordained stopping time. I wrote until my body moaned and locked up and down, threatening to topple me to the carpet. Music regaled me from my desktop speakers, the house was still and I felt too blessed not to be doing what I’d prayed to do…write all day long. My writing process involved reading what I’d written the day before, rereading my novel’s outline, meditating momentarily on the day’s work, a prayer here and there, and I’d begin writing.

“One way that I proofread is to consistently read aloud what I’ve written, fine-tuning my ears to a tight, natural phrasing. “Today I know that fear of failure was at the root of driving myself so doggedly back then. Now, I determine which hat the day calls for and I wear that hat as well as I possibly can, be it promoting, proofing, or writing, not necessarily in that order. I yet write with music filling my office, setting moods and creating atmosphere. I write and get it all out, read and reread, and write some more. Then the next day, I revise and proofread what I’ve worked on, before continuing with the new chapter. And if the writing doesn’t want to come, I bow to that and either continue proofing and rereading the manuscript or I rise and do something else, my mind free to embrace the hiatus, my subconscious quietly filling in what the story needs, while I exercise, bake, chat or journal.

“I am confident that I am where I should be. I know that the Divine directs and orders my steps, and I will receive all that I am supposed to have. I focus on the image that I have of myself, not on what others think I should be or have what they think I should possess. I am comfortable in my skin, and I adore Miss Claudia.

“It took me a little over ten years to complete If You Love Me, Come. Por que? Life washed in on me and flooded my writing time. For many years I didn’t write, but I always knew on a visceral level that everything was all right. That what I longed to do would be my reality one day. I had to trust the Unknown within me.

“I love to write in my office. If I had to write elsewhere, I would, but I doubt I’d feel as creative as I do right here where I am currently sitting at 4:13 AM. (laughing) “Every day I write something. It may not be writing on a novel or short story. It could be a poem or a blog entry, either for my blog at www.theGolden-Goddess.blogspot.com or on a private site by invitation only. I don’t wait for inspiration, yet when I am writing, as I say above, I do not force those times when the writing comes in spurts. I trust that it will come, so I rise to do other things, although my subconscious mind is forever writing and creating.”

Parts of the novel have a feel similar to that of Zora Neale Hurston’s Their Eyes Were Watching God with the use of dialect and the strong connection of the characters to the natural world?  Were you conscious of that while writing?

“Although I adore the work of Zora Neale Hurston, I was conscious only of my grandmothers’ voices, especially my paternal grandmother, Sophie Mae Moss.  She and my maternal grandmother, Pearlie Mae Young, made my family’s trips to the South delightful every summer we visited from Waterbury, CT.  My mother passed away when I was in the ninth grade, ans my grandmothers stepped in to take my siblings and me by the hand and guide us into young adulthood.  Both women were amazing, enterprising, Southern matriarchs, loved and respected by many in the small towns of Tuskegee, Roba and Little Texas, Alabama.

Both lived close to the natural world, closer than I’d ever witnessed coming from my inner-city neighborhood in Waterbury.  Actually, in my grandparents’ presence, along with my father, I learned to plant and pick everything from corn, peas, cotton and cucumbers.  I slopped hogs, swept yards, walked long country roads and listened to ghost stories with my siblings at my grandparents and father’s knee.  Relocating to the South at such an early age in my childhood had everything to do with what is evident in my interior writing world.

Find Claudia at the flowing links:

Pages

Search This Blog