“YOU ARE AN INSPIRATION!” …… NOT!

I have not written in a while due to an injury.  On August 14th, I fell in my house and hyper-extended my knee.  I tore an artery and that caused me to have 2 surgeries to do bypass graphs.  The second one worked.  They started me on heparin and I developed HIT (Heparin-Induced Thrombocytopenia)  which basically caused my blood platelets to drop and I lost the circulation in my foot.  I had to have it amputated.  I have also had 2 External Fixators put into my leg that makes it a total of 5 surgeries total.  I have an upcoming surgery on October 10th to take out the Ex Fix.  Then another surgery to fix my knee.  Hopefully by then I will be finished.

I have spent the last 7 weeks in the hospital and a rehab center.  I had to fight to be released.  It has been a rough struggle and it was not easy.  I kept hearing, as I told my story, that I was an inspiration to them and that I gave them strength to get through their own issues.  I wish I could take credit for this.  I am NOT the inspiration.

The first part of my journey in the hospital was a blur.  The first two weeks I was on heavy pain killers, Morphine and Oxycodone.  Once I was awake enough to realize that I was a zombie, I stopped taking the hard stuff and they gave me Tramadol and Tylenol and kept pushing the Oxy.  I refused.  Even Frank, my husband, was upset.  He didn’t want to see me in pain.

The next week or so, I started having panic attacks in the evenings.  There were less people around and I felt isolated and alone in my bed.  I tried to occupy my mind but it didn’t always work.  I still to this day have a little bit of anxiety that may be tied to some meds.

What helped?  GOD!  I had slipped away a bit over the last few years and tried to maintain but it isn’t very helpful unless you really believe.  From day one, I felt God helping me.  I have maintained my faith and feel his presence every day..  I have no choice.  I feel obligated.  Why?  God should be a choice.  Well, that is true.  He IS.

To save something for the book, I will sum it up with this.  Be careful what you ask for.  Maybe you don’t mean to ask.  Maybe you just feel they are related when they are not.  Either way, when you are handed something, you have to take the responsibility for your actions.  Take control of your situation and move forward.

If I stop to ask God why he allowed this to happen, I would become bitter and hurt again.  I just found my way back into the graces of God and I want to move forward and heal.  I want to get my life back and go on drives with my husband or go to a festival together before it gets cold.  I don’t want to be the complainer and stay depressed because I do not have a leg.  God gives me my strength every day and has helped with my leg pain since I have been home.  I am not an inspiration to anyone, God is.

God gives me my strength, my pain relief, dries my tears and is healing my leg.  I WILL WALK AGAIN, in Jesus name.  He is my everything right now.  I can’t do any of this without him.

GOD BLESS YOU ALL!!

 

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Afraid to write what you feel?

I have grown a lot over the last year and have pretty much doubled my volume of books.  I have 58 finished novels, 17 unfinished, 5 finished cowrites, 1 unfinished cowrite and I am currently working on a new serial and a new cowrite.  I am editing another novel to be published in September.  I am excited about the new book to be published.  More on that later.  Right now, I would like to answer a few questions I hear.

  1.  So what do I write?  Everything!  I like romantic suspense/dramas.
  2. How can you write so fast?  I am a stay at home wife.  I literally write all day long.
  3. How do you find different things to write about when you have written so much already?  I google ideas, get information from television and other books.
  4. Do you have a sounding board?  Yes, my husband Frank and my writing buddy Nikki.  They have been big inspirations in my writing career.
  5. Do you plan to publish more novels?  Yes.  Working on one now and will have several others ready in the next few months.
  6. Why do you write?  I write to express my feelings, release anger or anxieties, heal from pain, experience things I can’t in real life.  Writing is my way of getting through life.
  7. Do you write about controversial things?  Yes.  I write about whatever my characters tell me to write.  I don’t always believe in everything I write. I write it anyway.

I would like to talk about the #7.  Controversial writing.  As I have stated before, I was raised in a Christian home and I raised my boys that way as well.  I began in a strict Pentecostal religion.  I never just believed what I was told in church.  I looked it up in the bible to confirm my beliefs.  Some were correct and did not totally fit what I was taught.  Others were spot on what I was taught.  Did I believe them?  I believed what the bible said would happen if I crossed the line of sin.  Did it stop me from expressing my feelings?  No.  That is what I do in my writing.  I express my feelings on certain subjects.

       8.  What kind of controversial things do you write about?

This is when things become real for me.  Let me first define CONTROVERSIAL.  Controversial, to me, is what society, mostly Christian beliefs, define as wrong in their eyes.

I have written about abortion, teen pregnancies, sibling love, rape, abuse, sexual orgies, fantasy or magical powers, religions other than Christianity, erotica, prostitution, drugs and lots of sex.

Why?  Because these are things that weigh on my mind every day.  They are things that I have either experienced for myself, or I WISHED would happen to me.  I still consider myself a Christian and I live by the bible.  But that does not stop me from writing about an attraction to the opposite sex I had or wondering what it would feel like to be a witch.  When I first started writing I told myself that I would not publish works with these controversial subjects in them because of what my friends would think.  I am almost 50 years old and, frankly, I don’t give a damn what they think anymore.  I live on this earth to please my husband and my God.  No one else matters.  This is who I am and I am no longer afraid of what they think.

What will happen if I publish these things?  They will either love my honesty or they will delete me on Facebook.  Is that a bad thing?  No.  I have several friends who are NOT on Facebook.  It isn’t like we see each other in person or they text me on a regular basis.  We do not have lunch or go shopping.  They are just friends or acquaintances, mostly from Social Media.

My advice to you as a fellow writer;  write what you want.  If not for anyone else, but for yourself.  Write it down.  Over and over again.  THEN you can decide if and when you publish your controversial topic.  Who cares that you like writing about threesomes or that you write about abortion or drugs in a different way than what others believe.

I spent most of my life hiding from the real me because I didn’t want my Christian friends to disown me.  Well, if they were true friends, they would not judge me and would silently pray for my ‘seeing the light’.  The only ones who matter to me are my husband Frank, my sons Scott and Phil, my God, and a select handful of true friends.  So I leave you with this… TO HELL WHAT OTHERS THINK!  WRITE!

Fears and phobias from a writer’s viewpoint

I just finished my 31st novel.  I have created all of them within a 2 year period.  As i have stated before, I write out my pains, fears, intrigues and feelings.  When I was a child, I had this ongoing dream that never ended.  When I laid down at night, I could not wait to get back to that dream.  I was a popular movie star of sorts with special powers.  Of course the characters, including myself included people like Farrah Faucet and John Stamos.  I guess that led into my need to write.

I tried to escape my world of abuse and loneliness by creating these dreams and characters.  I started writing them down but never finished them.  It was not until 2014 that I began finishing stories.  Some of them were short stories and one was a novel.  It started as part of the NANOWRIMO contest and continued from there.  The more I wrote, the better I got.  That led to 2 years worth of 31 novels, 1 novella, 5 short stories and 3 open stories not finished.

So where are they?  Still in my Dropbox.  My husband is my only fan right now.  He helps guide my stories when i get stuck in a rut.  I published my first Novella i wrote in college and I have not sold anything.  I guess I am afraid to publish.  What will they think of my writing style?  Will my friends hate me?  Are my stories good enough?  These are the questions that constantly go through my mind.

The biggest fear I have is What if they DO like my style.  Then it becomes real and I have to face my phobia of explaining myself to my friends and families.  I have only a handful of friends who truly understand me and will not judge the person I am.

So where do I go from here?  Do I edit and publish and get rejected over and over again or do I just keep them to myself, unedited and unjudged?  What would you do?

 

 

 

Where does your writing come from? Mine? Hell.

I was raised in a “Christian” home.  I use that term loosely because it was far from it.  The only thing that made my childhood home a “Christian” home was the fact that my parents professed to be Christians.  So let me give you a background of my parents.

My father was a Staff Sargent in the Air force.  He was born to a mother who lost a daughter before he was born.  When he was born, he was treated more like a girl for the first few years.  I saw a picture of him at what looked like about 4 years old.  My sister asked who that was and she said “YOUR FATHER.”  Now he was born in 1923 so it was now about 1927.  He was dressed in a dress that looked like a Christening Dress.  We asked her if that was a baptism dress because we were not Catholic.  She said no.  That is just what they wore back then.  I said, “NO MOM, THEY WORE KNICKERS BUT NOT GIRLS DRESSES.”  She just blew it off.  Let’s skip to his Air Force days.  All of us children were born on an Air Force Base hospital.  The last time he was in the Air Force was when I was about a year old.  He was kicked out and dishonorably discharged for what they said was unproven charge of child molestation.  It did not take him long to start on us girls.  I will go into detail in another post.  I was molested for about 4 years that i can remember.  At age 8, my mother finally kicked him out.  Even though I told my mother before, she never believed me until my older sister threatened to take us away from her because she had just gotten married.

My mother was a 9th grade drop out.  She would have been about 14 or 15 years old.  That was 1947.  She was raised in Kentucky and turned to religion in her high school years.  She never talked much about her childhood except her mother died at an early age.  She left home shortly after quitting high school.  She got married at age 27 and continued to work.  After my father was kicked out, she started to become abusive and told me I was a “hateful, dispiseful” child.  She told me I would never amount to anything.  She never took us to counseling and never told anyone about the abuse.  She constantly talked to us in a negative tone and even told me at one time I reminded her of my father.  That hurt.  She whipped us with a thick belt, metal flyswatter, green switches and any thing else she could.  I had cans and cake mixes thrown at me all the time.  She was always upset and always mad.  She turned to Harlequin Romance books and chose not to take care of us children properly.  She worked.  Came home and read and went to bed.  That was her cycle.

We did not read the bible in the home.  We sometimes prayed over our dinner.  We did not pray together as a family or like one does with a child at bedtime.  She just told me what I was NOT allowed to do such as, wear shorts in the summer.  When I asked her where it was in the bible, she never knew and never looked it up.  She just said THE CHURCH SAYS SO.  This was the norm for every sin I committed.

Needless to say, my teen years were spent having sex, smoking, drinking and taking drugs.  She sent me to live with my sister because she could not handle me(her words).  I was married at age 18.

The abuse I suffered from both of my parents shaped me into the person I am today.  In some respects, it taught me what NOT to do with my own children.  In other respects, it made my life a living hell of sex, drugs and alcohol.  My writing will reflect my upbringing and adult life.  You will find a recurring theme or two withing my books.  I write to reflect, to escape, to feel and to release.  How about you?