As a writer, I have always been told the rule of thumb is always WRITE WHAT YOU KNOW?

Here’s what I know, the mind is a fragile, delicate thing. It can break under the slightest of incidents or take on a lifetime of misery before the first cracks begin to show. However, there are those rare occurrences where the mind just simply bends for a while like a rubber band that eventually snaps back into place, the scars still there a reminder that it didn’t break. I have always wondered why? Why is the mind so much stronger in some than in others. In some, it simply takes being yelled at in the supermarket to come back later and shoot it up, or one person cutting you off on the highway to go on a road rage rampage and wind up killing several people. In others, a lifetime can go by of being bullied in grade school, made fun of in high school just for being different, and later maybe a bad relationship just adds to the trauma of your childhood abuse and neglect. It is much later in life when they finally snap and do something horrible or they do nothing at all and chalk it up to “that’s life!” It also amazes me how much the mind can remember. You can remember and recite every book you ever read but for the life of you, you can’t remember the harm you have caused others. The scars are there in plain sight but you have no recollection of the incident.  Is this some kind of joke or is there some sort of underlying trauma of your own going on here? Yes, the mind is a fragile delicate thing. It can break with one disparaging remark or spend a lifetime locked in its own personal hell! It is up to us to fight the mind and lead with our hearts full of love and acceptance.


Here’s what I know, There, is good in the world! Often times when I was younger I thought that there was nothing left in this world that would ever bring me joy and yet, as I have gotten older I realize there, is good everywhere. Even if it something as simple as letting someone go in front of you in the grocery line.  Or something more serious as babies being born there is always a parent out there searching and waiting for a bundle of joy to call their own. Or loving and accepting someone for who and what they are. We were all made different that is what makes us special.  I watched an older movie the other day for about the 3rd time and it moved me to tears yet again. It showed the best of humanity when someone unselfishly changed someone else’s life just because it was the “Christian” thing to do. In a world gone mad with chaos and mayhem, I still believe as long as there are movies being made that show human kindness we are not lost. Some may have lost their way but there is still hope for us yet. So let us pay it forward, let us teach our kids the best humanity has to offer and condone kindness in our hearts and lives. For there is kindness in the world.


Here is what I know, take time for yourself. I am a typical American woman. I get up get the kids off to school, get myself to my job where I have to work to pay bills and put food on the table even if I hate the job, then I come home cook clean and spend what little time I have left with those kids, oh, let me not forget the husband in all of this. By the time I sit down and have five whole minutes to myself I realize I am exhausted! I am too tired to do anything, let alone anything I want to do such as writing, crocheting, or even bathing on some occasions.  Movies, forget about it! Usually, a really good movie I haven’t seen comes on when I am busy cooking or cleaning and I miss half of it. The only tv time I get anymore is after everyone has gone to bed and it is late. Even then I can’t stay up too late because I have to get up early and do the day all over again! The weekends is where I shine though, I don’t answer the phone most of the time. I unwind from my humdrum life and do what makes me happy. Whether it is getting lost in the fantasy world I am creating in my novel or just simply reading about someone else’s fantasy world. It is all about me. For at least one day. You know the saying stop and smell the roses. Well, it is so true. Stop and enjoy the beauty of that rose, let the scent wash over you and just be in the moment with yourself. Your addled mind will thank you for it later.

Here is what I know, Be the exception! I am my own worst enemy. I am my own worst critic. Yet, I push myself to be better than I was yesterday, I am sure it stems from being told all of my youth that I would never amount to anything. My will and stubbornness to prove them wrong have gotten me where I am today. I am constantly trying to outdo myself. As if I am in some sort of competition with me. I also know that I am the exception when it comes to love, life, and happiness. Based on my childhood I never thought I would be happy, hell I never thought I would make it out of it alive. Yet, here I am! I was born in the 70’s and a preemie to boot. I am told I was never even supposed to survive my birth, and yet here I am! I never thought I would find love and happiness,  after the trauma I went through with my first real relationship but I am happy to report that I have been happily married now for almost two decades, and get this I am happy! I am the exception to where I should be in life. If I had let the past eat away at my mind it would have broken me and I would have never been able to overcome and see for myself that I am the exception. I am worthy of love, and happiness. Be the one someone can’t live without. Be the one that becomes irreplaceable at your job.  Be the trendsetter, the one others strive to be. You know the saying a rose is just a rose. There is no rules or laws that say it can’t be an exceptional rose.  Remember you are the exception, not the rule. Rules are meant to be broken anyway right?

Here is what I know, God exists! I was raised Pentecostal or a “holy roller” if you will. I was raised that everything was a sin, even sometimes the very air I breathed was wrong according to my mother. Being raised the way I was I was so confused I became afraid to do anything, afraid that I would be going to hell and never get to see those streets of gold but then wondered if God existed at all how did I get the parents I had. Where was he when I was being beaten for looking at my mother the wrong way or simply being in the room at all. Why wasn’t he there to protect me? It didn’t dawn on me for many years that he was there. Every time I didn’t die, or my mind didn’t collapse in on itself he was there to protect me from the worst of it all. Even my birth, he was there watching as I was miraculously born into a world full of violence and terror. He watched as the doctors sat back in awe as I began to breathe on my own. I am sure if they didn’t believe, some of them did after that day. I have had so many close calls with death it is ridiculous, and yet here I am. I know it was to tell others that there is a God! I have felt his loving arms wrap around me when I was at my darkest and have even felt him wipe my tears away. Yes, he is something our tiny minds cannot see or touch but that is where faith comes in. Faith that when we are at our worst he feels our pain. When we are broken he will help mend us. When we are scarred he will kiss those scars and ease our pain. After leaving home I was exposed to so many other religions and the realization hit that they all believe in a higher power. Some sort of entity that will save their souls and lead them into an eternal afterlife. It made me breathe easier knowing this. For those that don’t believe trust me, he believes in you!


This is what I know! It is not everything I know, but this is enough for now.



She grew up in the south! Not the south you think of as pretty like Georgia, or Florida, or Louisianna, or even Texas with its rolling tumbleweeds and stetson hats and Armadilloes. No, she grew up in Arkansas! When she got older and left home the mere mention of Arkansas caused a cacophony of remarks such as “Oh do I hear Banjo music!” or some other disparaging remark about incest! She hated it and she often wondered how the hell Arkansas ever got this reputation. There were parts of Arkansas that were supposedly beautiful yet, she never saw it. She grew up near the Mississippi River just this side of Memphis TN the home of the late great king of rock and roll Elvis! Yet, she rarely saw the city that put bluesy jazz music on the map with its Beale Street and Bar-B-Que!

Where she lived was something straight out of a storybook not a very good one either. She lived in a small town no one had ever heard of. You couldn’t even find it on any maps and it lay in the heart of cotton country! The town held about 2,000 people which were a far cry more than some of the surrounding towns that just held a Welcome sign and nothing more. However, this town was still too small for her. She had big dreams and even bigger goals in life. She was suffocating in this town and she ached to explore her horizons and she was filled with a sense of wonder over where it might lead her. She just hoped this town wouldn’t kill her first. This town with its never-ending cliches the run down buildings that have stood around rotting for the better part of 50 years a ghostly reminder of a time forgotten. The drugs that began to sweep through as if it were some sort of big city. Or the teen pregnancy rate that shot up her senior year. She was not one of those statistics. Or how about the ever popular car up on blocks for months at a time hidden by the tall uncut grass of someone’s lawn.  Or the trailer’s so many lived in her included.

This was not some little southern town like you see in the movies. Steeped in tradition and its southern belles. This was one of those towns you passed through on your way to the big city, quickly forgotten. This was one of those towns that you had to leave immediately upon graduating or you would be forever stuck there like a fly on a stick trap. She never told anyone that she felt hell was, in fact, real and this tiny little town seemed to be its gateway. She could almost visualize the steam rising from the ground from some undiscovered crack in the ground allowing hell to leak out. As her senior year wore on. One thing became clearer and clearer she had to get out or die trying.

Maybe she was biased, maybe she couldn’t see all the beauty this town could possess. She was always under a dark cloud of despair. Living yet, another cliche her home wasn’t filled with the life and laughter that you would think one would have in a small southern town. It was filled with fear and pain daily. Too terrified of the consequences to tell anyone what was happening in her home she dealt with it. By the time she was seventeen she had grown accustomed to the daily beatings by her mother, the sexual advances of her stepfather and she worried daily that it might just take a toll on her sanity. She had grown a thick skin so to speak and prayed to God for her continued survival long enough to make it out of this God forsaken town. She lived with Monsters that were very good at pretending, stealing the faces of the people that were supposed to protect her from such atrocities.

She spent eighteen years vying for affection that would never come, begging for just a glimmer of something called love. Waiting for the day she could be free of her captors, either death by their hands or by way of escape. It was like she lived in a mental institution where all doctors are really the patients and they were trying to get her on their side. Her being the only sane one, it was a strain on her sanity. Yet, through it all, they couldn’t break her. Between all the beatings and being told she would never be anything she would always be nothing she became proud of the fact that deep down they didn’t break her spirit her drive her dreams. It wouldn’t be long before someone came along and reminded her that she was somebody worth caring about, loving even. yet, it would take her many years to discover she had, in fact, survived even if she still carried a demon or two along the way.

Who doesn’t carry some baggage? If they say they don’t they are lying. Even after she was grown with kids of her own. Those old demons still haunted her, torture her even to the point that she repeatedly tried to give up and yet her fighting spirit wouldn’t  let her quit. She may not be a true Souther Belle but she is a fighter. One who climbed out of the sewer of her past and made it better. Someone who stands up for others even when she doesn’t have to. Someone who fights for injustice no matter the consequences. Someone who loves unconditionally and without bias. That to me screams Southern Belle!

Let’s go back though back to where it all changed for her. The day her life was changed forever. After the hell of her childhood but before she found herself and her place in the world. The day that made her realize there was some good in the world after all. That girl was me and this, is where my story begins…



Yesterday did not go so well on the smoothie front. As it was my first time ever making one it was kind of a flop. I had accidentally grabbed Raspberries instead of Blueberries and when I tried to use them anyway it didn’t work out so well.

Never, ever, use frozen Raspberries as there are tiny little seeds throughout and you can’t eat them and I am guessing they don’t digest well. You will be picking the little seeds out until at least the next day.

I am not discouraged though, I did follow with the rest of my regimen. I ate a salad with some tuna creations thrown in for lunch and after getting off work at 8 PM I still forced myself to go to the gym for almost an hour. My calves are killing me today and other parts of me that I didn’t know I had. I did feel a moment afterward of utter bliss. That is my motivation for today. I am just going to push through the pain and try again today to more than yesterday.

I know where I went wrong with the smoothie so I will be doing a do-over today! Update tomorrow if everything goes SMOOTHLY! Get it! LOL!


This is day one of my diet. Of trying to eat right and actually work out at the gym that I am paying monthly for.  For those of you that know me, or for those of you that think you know me. You may already know, I am pretty lazy! I admit it, after cooking, cleaning, doing laundry and maintaining a household since I was like 12, I am exhausted. I am tired of cleaning up everyone else’s mess. With my kids not being babies anymore, I figured I could get some time to myself. However, that hasn;t happened yet. I need time to write and time for just me. Yet, every time I open my laptop I got nothing. My brain is racing filled with all the things that need to get done at any given time.

I  have realized over the last almost two years of blogging that I start projects and never finish them. I like the idea of beginning something new, but then I get bored with it and move on to something else I am now forty and I I have been overweight for some time now yet, I don’t have the willingness to stick with the only diet I know will work. Eating right and working out. I have tried all the fad diets and nothing! In fact on some occasions, I have even gained weight which doesn’t help me at all!

I have been so scatterbrained and tired of late that I decided I needed a change. I found some brain boosting all natural smoothie recipes and some that even put a pep in your step.  One can help me write better and two will give me the energy I need to go work out. So today is day oneI am trying a recipe found on Pinterest that will help with brain power. Doing research on this I found that any and all berries will help with this. As well as a watermelon!

My recipe is:

3 Cups of Blueberries

3 Cups of  Watermelon

! 1/2 cups of ice.

That is it! It sounds delicious and I am going to need your help to keep me on track! I will be having a sensible lunch a salad with some tuna and then a sensible dinner. I implore all of you to keep this going as I have said before I tend to quit things. I will be working out at the gym after work and I will let you know tomorrow how delicious my smoothie was.




Blood and gore, blood and gore! I silently scream as I  rapidly tap my fingers upon the floor.

The room drenched in a deafening silence, save for the rhythmic tap, tap, tapping by the door.  I am only sixteen and all I have ever known is blood and gore, blood and gore.

Insanity being but a heartbeat away, the sound like spikes piercing my tender ears, yet the tap, tap, tapping is impossible to stop. My ears begin to leak crimson rivers as madness takes hold and The rap, rap, rapping becomes a chant of nothing more than blood and gore, blood and gore.

I weep for the little angels sleeping in their bed, with love kissed upon their tiny heads. Something I have never known!  Sadness washes over me as I sit here all alone no love lost for me in the morning light. There has only ever been blood and gore, blood and gore.

I count the dingy tiles as I stare into my abyss my unwashed hair hangs in my face. The threadbare nightgown makes me shiver on the cold bare floor. I know I look mad but I can’t escape my fate. It seems to only be filled with blood and gore blood and gore.

I can no longer contain my sanity, it leaks out of every part of me. “God help me to be strong!” I whisper as the madness takes over and the darkness sets in. I cannot see the future or how bright I will be for in this moment there is nothing more than blood and gore, blood and gore as I rapidly tap my fingers upon the floor.


The day he died he died for us. It was the plan and yet, it was also the worst humanity had to offer. It was a death that should never have been but he did it anyway. He died for my sins so I could be washed clean of all my wrongdoings and start anew. He died for me, for you, for your sister, your brother, your mother, your father, everyone. He died by the hands of the very souls he was trying to save.  He died a brutal death one of pain, suffering, and agony, and yet he stayed. He could have climbed down that cross at any moment and simply said I have had enough. Yet, he knew the plan even when we couldn’t see it for ourselves and he stayed. He knew his death was imminent and still, he stayed. I wonder if he regrets, his actions as he looks down upon mankind now, at how far we have fallen since that fateful day so long ago. I wonder does he regret it,  I guess only time will tell.

How can you say you love me? When all you seem to do is bitch and moan about my very existence. This supposed love you say you have for me. Feels more like torture than anything resembling love. Your touch on my skin feels like death awaiting me. You talk as if I am nothing to you. Not the miracle God chose to give to you. You haven’t earned the title given to you called mother. You have crushed my spirits one too many times. You have broken my dreams on too many occasions. Now here you sit no children to care for you no grandchildren to fill your home with laughter. No one to hold your hand in your final days. Do you regret the choices you’ve made, I guess only time will tell.

I am grown and I have been through it, life that is. Every choice I have made, ever step I have taken has gotten me here. Some of them bad, some of them good, and yet there is that part of me that still sees what she saw the daughter of no one, the empress of nothing. Then there is the part of me that he sees the man that died for my sins the man that went through the ultimate sacrifice for me. I realize I may not be the daughter she wants but I am the daughter he loves. The dark cloud of my past may haunt me forever, but the fact that it didn’t break me and I held fast to his love in my darkest hours comforts me. Will the ghost of my past haunt me forever or will the pain of lost love finally ebb, I guess only time will tell.




You know I never understood when someone says they hate music! Whaaattt? Listening to some excellent tunes right now and after the week I’ve had, I need it. I need some time to just unwind and music does that for me. Of, course, some Peach flavored Vodka is also helping, but music, music is universal. A good song whether it be a slow jam or just something down and dirty it speaks to that deep primal part of us that we all have. Sitting alone, clearing my head over my latest writing project, I need something to cleanse my pallet. The pallet of my mind. Just kick back relax to some good tunes and chill.

It is pretty amazing I mean one minute I am rolling my hips to the musical stylings of TECH N9NE and the next I am silently screaming girl power while Kelly Clarkson Catches her breath. Music is the only thing that can make you an emotional wreck one minute and the next you are getting the party started! It is an escape for someone like me that can not sing but with a little liquid courage, I am a superstar. I have no coordination either but when the right song comes along… shiiittt!  I am de bomb!  If I want to travel back in time I just play some Michael or Mariah. The memories flood back and I can almost taste the air from a time when they entered my world.

Also, whatever mood I am in, there’s a song for that! If I am in the mood to kick up some dust Brookes and Dunn will Boot Scoot and Boogie their way to the top of my playlist. If I want to go dark Theory of a Deadman is not Sacrificing anything to be by my side. If I want to be an Animal Maroon 5 is there. I can get lost in all my favorites and just veg out. It gives me the courage to face everything that will come in the light of day.  The kids, the spouse, the new job.  I can handle it all after a few great tunes blast in my ears. That chapter that I am not quite sure what to do with, after a few (or several) rewrites, it doesn’t matter, because I am imagining myself in a flash mob singing Want You Back with Cher Lloyd herself! All my problems, all my issues poof gone, with a few bars of my top 40! So, if you’re, feeling down or stressed out just plug in your earphones pull up your playlist and hit play. Music is not ageist, I don’t care how old you are, find the song that makes you sing, and sing. Sing as if no one is watching, dance as if no one is watching and find your peace.

By the way, what is your favorite song?