Again, I am going to talk about another wonderful woman I met over the weekend at this writing conference I attended.
Patricia Bell-Scott, I don’t even have words to describe the friendship that emerged. She is an award winning published author and all around humble human being.
Please check out her website:
Then purchase her newest book:
The Firebrand and the First Lady
Reblogging something old, because the creativity is being reserved for a new chapter of my book.
We often ignore our dreams and avoid aspirations because we have responsibilities; this type of avoidance can lead to regret. “I got bills to pay, mouths to feed, ain’t nothing in this world for free.” Far too often we push aside our hopes and dreams as we douse the passion of fervent youth when reality begins to settle in around us and we take that job to pay the bills.
Then, we comply with the rules of society and work ourselves into graves. Yup, that sums up the whole of existence. Some work themselves into lavish graves while the rest of us meander through to simple boxes in hallow ground.
What will remain of you when you die? Or me for that matter? (This post is really all about me, everything is always about me.) The progeny? Eventually that dies out too.
What will your legacy be?
Personally, I don’t want any more regrets. I don’t want to say I should have done this or that I want to say “I did it.”
So I am going to say I did it.
“No ragrats,” right?
I am able to say I’m writing that book and other things. In my copious spare time I am liberating the ideas locked inside while listening to Daddy Yankee’s Shaky Shaky. My book is a contemporary multicultural romance novel and I am compiling sordid short stories with women as the central focus. My women are unconventional standards of imperfections; they’re the Kate of my mind. They embrace everything we should not be, explore the not so nice parts we like to hide while discovering the quirks and kinks that make us—well “Freak out Le freak, see’est Chic.”
Don’t fret the regret. Don’t give up the dream. Unless it involves becoming a rocket scientist when you aren’t inherently bright or really good with numbers and whatever else that sort of stuff entails. But if your dream involves learning, or visiting a new place, writing a book, becoming a ski instructor, starting a business I say try it.
And, if it doesn’t work at least you know and you can always say “I did it.”
Blogging is an adventurous outlet, with an innate freedom of expression that allows you to explore the weirdest ideas that could come about. Maybe you are able to traverse the confines of your soul and release them with new words, or maybe you just write. One time I told someone they wouldn’t find my blog, to which they responded that they would. I was told they would, one day.
Then this question arose.
Why do you want me to find your blog, who said I wanted to see your soul?
I laughed a bit at this. My response was it’s really not my soul.
I never think of my blog or my writing for that matter as a way to view my soul, but today I thought about this comment and thought about my blog.
Why do I write?
I always ask myself this question and I never have a concrete answer. I write just because I like to and I think I have a way with words. Sometimes my emotions may gear my writing, life might influence the words and other times something around me just sparks the fuse of my imagination and the explosion of words erupts with a big bang (it’s usually the latter). For instance, Would You was inspired while I was at the gym and Shawn Mendes’ Mercy started playing on my Pandora station. There is nothing very deep or interesting about where the inspiration for this particular poem came from but it turned into something; it popped into my head, poof! just like magic.
I would be lying if I said life didn’t inspire me but it doesn’t always move my inner soul to reveal itself. There are times when I write these sordid tales that might make you cringe or a sappy love story at times when I might not believe in love. Then, I will shift gears and write a poem about a ghost, that’s Casper’s cousin. I may even kill someone off in a tale and smile when I’m done writing it and it’s not because that’s what lies deep inside, it’s because that’s what the muses pushed into my mind.
I’m not sure if they ever found my blog, I don’t know if they will ever read the posts but I hope they keep in mind there’s more between the lines. Writing is a part of who I am, it is a part of my soul but it does not reveal my soul. Writing for me is a journey of exploration and a way to let my imagination run free.