Erin Lockwood's Blog, page 2

Only 2 More Days!!!

Only two more days until the release. Read below for a little sneak peak excerpt!

 

Excerpt:
We’re belting out a song from Abigail’s playlist when Bary pulls into the studio lot.
“Okay, turn it down,” Abigail shouts over the music. 
“No, keep it up,” I yell. “I love this song.” 
Bary, of course, listens to Abigail. “I can’t,” she starts to yell, but realizes she’s shouting when the music has been turned off. “I can’t let them hear me singing a promiscuous song. It’s irresponsible. I’m a role model,” she says softer. 
That sounds like her mom talking. I roll my eyes a little. “We’re just having fun,” I mumble to myself. “It’s just a song.” 
I throw my badge lanyard over my head before getting out of the car. Abigail hoists her Louis Vuitton purse over her shoulder, and we walk into the studio. It looks like a big airplane hangar. 
“I’m gonna miss this,” Abigail says to me. 
I hook my arm through hers. “I know, but we have Paris to look forward to.” 
She smiles and perks up. We say hello to people as we walk by, making our way to her dressing room. 
As soon as the door closes behind us, there’s a knock. “Come in,” Abigail shouts. 
“How’s my favorite star?” Pete Hallman’s head pops out from behind the door. With my back to him, I make a face as if I’m gonna throw up. He pushes the door all the way open and steps in, closing it behind him. I feel as if the air sucks out of the room. 
At least Abigail is here. There’s a panic I feel whenever I’m alone with him. I always try to find an excuse to leave as soon as possible. 
Abigail moves to him and reaches her arms out to hug him. “Hi Pete. How are you?” 
“I’m very well, thanks,” he says to her, then he looks my way. “How about you, Kessia? Where’s my love?” He puts his arms out and expects me to touch him. 
I’ve never told Abigail the extent of how uncomfortable he makes me because I know she doesn’t feel the same way. It’s also partly because of how I was raised. My mom, producers, and directors are like gods and goddesses. I always had to use my absolute best manners. 
Abigail and I have known Pete since we were seven, when Abigail joined the cast of Heart of the Family—playing the youngest daughter. Now we’re filming the final episodes in Paris soon. 
“Of course. Hi, Pete,” I say to him and move closer to hug him. When his arms wrap around me, he lets his fingers fall under the top of my jean shorts, touching my bare skin on my backside. His hand almost goes so far down he’d be cupping my butt cheek with his palm, but he stops and pulls his hand out before Abigail notices anything. 
Pete stands up and backs away as if nothing ever happened. It makes me feel crazy for thinking that something did happen. His hand touched my butt. 
I just wish someone could see what he does so that I don’t have to be the one who says something. 
It’s not just Abigail, nobody has ever seemed to notice. If they did, they might not say anything anyway since he’s the studio’s most successful and awarded producer. “Walking Gold,” is what Entertainment Weekly once referred to him as. “Unstoppable,” was in another publication.
I step back, giving myself even more distance from Pete, and pretend to organize Abigail’s vanity. 
“So, Pete, what’s up?” Abigail asks. 
He leans back on his heels and rubs his round belly. “I thought I’d pop in and watch the final studio taping. We might have a project for you.” 
Abigail looks surprised. “Really? That would be great. I’ll have Tammy call you.” 
Pete’s eyes dart at me before looking at Abigail again. “All right. You go get ‘em, kid.” He puts his arm around Abigail and taps her lower back. He takes a step toward me and does the same thing, except his hand lands a little lower. Too low. 
When he leaves the room, I feel like I can finally take a breath again. 
“This is great news,” Abigail says to herself, grabbing her phone. “Hey,” she excitedly looks up to me, “did I ever tell you that Pete—”
“You should probably call Tammy,” I quickly interrupt her. I do not want to hear anything about Pete. 
“Right,” she says, putting the phone to her ear and calling her agent.

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Hey, Moms—You Probably Spoke to Your Child's Predator Today: A Mother's Gift

An open letter By Erin Lockwood - author of Things You Can’t Take

This open letter is a real conversation I had with one of my daughters. I put it on paper because I feel it’s a message that all parents should share with their kids. It's a true story that has also inspired my newest fictional work, "Things You Can't Take". My hope is that my personal experience is shared with as many parents as possible to shed light on the nature of so many cases of sexual assault. Please share with your sons, daughters, mothers and friends.

Dear daughter,

We have to have a long talk tonight because something happened today. It was small. Tiny. Just a little blip in your day that you almost didn’t mention because it seemed insignificant. Well, I’m sorry honey. Though you thought it was a small thing, what happened was not insignificant.

Please listen up, because this is important. You’re getting old enough to learn something bigger because I can’t always be there to protect you. So here it is.

When a grown man who has no relation to you and no relation to your parents—someone who is an adult and only a friend of a friend—wants to hang out and talk with you instead of the other adults, that’s a problem. Yes, it’s just a conversation. Yes, it feels good that someone is paying attention to you. I know how beautiful, funny, smart and wonderful you are to be around. But under no circumstances is it appropriate for an adult to try to form a friendship with you, especially someone who is outside of our family’s small circle of trust. Yes, I’m sorry, but it’s small. I can see in your eyes that this doesn’t make sense to you.

We were all in the same room together. There was never a time when you were alone with this man, but there were other kids at the party you should have been playing with and there were other adults he should have been talking to. I already knew I was going to have to chat with you about it. But when you told me he asked when your birthday was, and said he was going to put it in his phone, I knew we needed to have a really big chat and we needed to have it fast.

First, let me tell you that you did nothing wrong. It seems confusing to you that I’m making such a big deal about you telling someone when your birthday is. You feel as if it’s a small, insignificant fact. I understand how you see it that way. But this is a big deal. The way I see it is different.

I’m not saying that man you talked with is or isn’t a predator. But I want you to have a bigger understanding so that if you should come across a predator and I’m not around to protect you, you are better equipped to protect yourself. Or better yet, prevent needing to protect yourself.

A sexual predator doesn’t always act impulsively. So many—too many—of them nurture their relationship with their victims slowly and steadily, over time. If you tell him when your birthday is, you won’t be surprised when he talks to you near your birthday. That won’t seem strange. Then when he says he wants to do something for you for your birthday, it will seem natural to you. Slowly, he can build your trust in a way that feels easy to you and you might not see coming.

I love how well-mannered and sweet you are. But you can be well-mannered and sweet and still state your boundaries. A lesson I wish I learned when I was your age.

I’ve wanted to keep you protected in my bubble since the day I became your mother. In many ways you still are protected in my bubble. But that won’t always be the case. So I’m having these hard conversations now. Because I can promise you one thing: I sure as hell won’t risk having these conversations after it’s too late.

I know it’s not easy being my daughter. I can be a little “helicopter-y” and overbearing at times, because to me, nothing is more important than your safety.  But there is a reason why I am the way I am. See… I know all too well how a predator can be subtle at first. How they can start when you’re young, with very small things. I also know that behavior like that only escalates.

I had an aunt who married a not-so-great guy. Nobody seemed to catch onto that for a long time. He was family and I knew him as far back as I can remember. I also remember him slipping his hand down the back of my pants whenever he hugged me. The first time he did that was when I was five years old. I didn’t know anything about what was and wasn’t appropriate when I was five. He was family and his hand would touch my little tushy under my pants. Unfortunately, when it first started happening, I was too young to know it wasn’t okay.

Small intrusions like that happened for years. And I knew I wasn’t the only one. I heard him talk to other girls my age in a way that made me very uncomfortable. But I lacked the confidence to say anything about it. And I definitely didn’t want to risk being wrong if I told my parents. So he continued to get away with it. And like I said, it escalated. It grew into a relationship that felt secretive. Like he was doing me a favor by talking to me and behaving a certain way around me, and that I would be the uncool one if I told a “real” adult like his wife or my parents.

One day when I was seventeen, my parents and I went to my aunt and uncle’s house for a little family get-together. My grandparents were there too. I was in my senior year of high school and when mom asked where I was with my college applications, I told her I wanted to apply for the University of Oregon but hadn’t printed out the application yet. My uncle said, “Let’s go upstairs and print it out now.” Nobody saw anything wrong with that small idea. Including me, at the time.

Once we got upstairs to his office, he closed the door behind him. Still, I didn’t see anything wrong. Closing a door is a small, simple thing that many people do every day. Plus, my parents were downstairs! What could go wrong? Well, a lot. He closed the door and let me pull up the application on the computer. It was a 30-something page document and back then, printers took a very, very long time. I knew I would be alone in that room with him for up to a half hour. And he knew it too.

I didn’t start to feel nervous until my uncle bent down and pulled a bottle of Wild Turkey whiskey out from a cabinet with not one glass, but two. I knew the other glass was for me. It wasn’t exciting to think about an adult allowing me to taste alcohol–it was terrifying. My gut was telling me something wasn’t right, and alcohol didn’t seem glamorous or fun. I knew it was the last thing I needed in that situation. But still, I didn’t feel confident enough to leave the room.

As I suspected, he poured a glass for himself before pouring another and handing it to me. I said, “No thank you,” and waved it away. But he persisted and told me to stop being a baby. Over and over he told me it wasn’t a big deal. “Just drink it,” he’d push, seeming annoyed with my immaturity. I gathered whatever courage I had in me and took the drink and had a sip.

I hated everything about it. Especially how I felt he was in complete control, how I wasn't able to say no in a way that made a difference. And even though he was the adult, he didn’t respect no for my answer, and that was so very wrong of him.   

You’re asking me if I regret taking the alcohol. My answer is “no.” I didn’t do anything wrong. I did the best I could for being a young seventeen year old who was with someone she should have been able to trust. Nothing I did was wrong. All of the responsibility lays on him. He was the adult who knew better.

I hate that I need to tell you the rest of my story. But I don’t hate it as much as I hate keeping from you the lessons it taught me.

My uncle then started asking me if I had any sexual fantasies. Immensely inappropriate. Never okay. But like I said before, this relationship had been slowly developing into one where I couldn’t differentiate the last inappropriate thing he said or did from the next. Still, I knew he was going too far. I told him I wasn’t comfortable. I told him I didn’t want to answer him. But he pressed on.

I didn’t think to call for my parents because I had been conditioned to feel confused about the lines between right and wrong where he was concerned. But most importantly, I remember being paralyzed with fear. I had no idea how far he would go. And in my mind, I didn’t know how to stop him. Because my words certainly weren’t working.

It was textbook predatory behavior.

He circled around me, continuing to remind me to drink my whiskey. I was too scared to drink the whiskey, but I was even more afraid to not do what he said. So I pretended to drink, spitting the liquid back out every time I brought it to my lips. At that age, I was doing what I thought I could. And breaking the rules by drinking alcohol was the least of my worries.

During this encounter, he never touched me in a private place. He stood behind me and said that if I couldn’t think of a sexual fantasy, he would help me think of one. Then he described to me what it would be like if two naked men approached me and began to touch my privates. I remained still and quiet, scared out of my mind and more uncomfortable than I’ve ever felt in my life.

The only time he laid a hand on me was when he was describing this fantasy for me. He touched the back of my neck in what you might consider “a safe place” to touch. But like everything else he had done, things started in a safe place and escalated – and this could have ended at a very dangerous place.

When he was in the middle of describing a sexual scene for me, the printer stopped. My senses were heightened. That printer sounded like a 200-man army marching back and forth across each paper, over and over and over. I was hyper aware of it. As soon as that sound stopped, I jumped up, grabbed the stack of papers and ran out the door. I ran downstairs, grabbed my keys (because I drove separately from my parents), yelled, “Bye!” and ran out the door. I got in my car and drove home, trying to process everything that happened.

With one small infringement into my comfort zone, starting years ago with sticking his hands down my pants when I was five, he had weaseled his way into having this power over me over a decade later. I knew it. I hated it. Even though deep down I knew exactly how bad of person he was, and how wrong his relationship with me was, I didn’t have the confidence or experience to verbalize my intuition.

I felt guilty for feeling so affected by the encounter, especially because my uncle never actually touched my privates. For the first two weeks after it happened, I didn’t say a word to my parents but I couldn’t sleep, I had a hard time eating, and I couldn’t focus on anything in school. I spiraled downward and wasn’t able to function the way I should. It got to a point where I knew I had to tell my parents because emotionally, I was dealing with something beyond my capabilities.

I’ll be honest: Telling my parents was not fun. And it didn’t make me feel better either. They each handled it very differently. Your grandmother didn’t have long talks with me like the one I’m having with you now. And your grandfather blamed himself. He felt responsible for not being able to protect me and I remember when he said, “I feel like I failed you as a father.” That broke my heart. Truly, it hurt more to hear him say that than any of the emotional pain I felt from my uncle’s behavior toward me. I wanted the whole thing to go away. Hearing that made me wish I had never said anything to either of them.

So I have a promise to make you: I will carry your load.

As your mother, I will do everything I can to help prevent you from being in a situation like mine. But if you should ever find yourself being assaulted or abused by anyone, you can tell me. In fact, you can tell me if you merely feel uncomfortable around someone. I will believe you, guide you, and make sure it’s handled by a responsible adult.

Most importantly, I will tell you that it was not your fault. No matter what happened, you never did anything to deserve it. And what happened to me was not my fault either. I’m having this talk with you now because I want to make sure we do everything we can to keep you safe. But if something should happen, the only one responsible will be the one who committed the crime. It would never be your fault. And it would never be my fault.

It’s important that you understand this. My parents’ reaction when I told them about my uncle left me heartbroken. So much so that I never wanted to put them or myself through that experience again. I still needed my parents, but I didn’t feel like I could talk to them or let them help me when I had a problem. And unfortunately, I soon came across a very big problem.

Your grandma was an ice skating instructor and took me to a competition so I could see my friends. I was on winter break from college. I was as naive as could be and didn’t have the benefit of these long talks like ours.

There was a party to celebrate the end of the competition. There was also an after-party, hosted by someone I’d known for years who had always made me very nervous. Let’s call him Tim. Back when I was twelve, he was twenty-something. I never liked the way he looked at me and I had tried to keep my distance, but since I tried to stay clear, he sent a friend to tell me, “Tim wants you.” I shook my head nervously, wanting to tell this friend that I want nothing to do with Tim. But the words wouldn’t come out. All I could do was shake my head, too shy and nervous to use my words. And this small thing was something I never ended up mentioning to my parents.

So years later, after trying to keep my distance as best I could, here was Tim again, hosting an after-party in his hotel room. I came to the competition to see my friends, and since all my friends were going to the party, I wanted to go, too. I remember convincing myself that since I was eighteen, I was a woman now, and didn’t have to be afraid or nervous around him. Besides, I thought, what can go wrong in a hotel room full of friends and other people I know?

So I went to the party with my friend. Let’s call her Jane. We agreed we wouldn’t leave without each other, and our main objective was to have fun and celebrate. I felt happy and confident as we approached the room. As soon as we walked in, Tim walked straight up to me, as if he’d been waiting for me all night. He asked if I wanted a drink. I did, so I said yes and followed him to a long dresser in the room. He was the host with the alcohol, so I didn’t see anything wrong with taking a drink from him. Besides, I wasn’t driving and was surrounded by people I knew, so I couldn’t see the harm in having a drink.

He handed me a very small glass with only a little bit of liquid in it. And that was the last I remember of the party.

You see, my friend Jane left without me. When I saw her the next morning, she told me that Tim had put me in the bathroom until everyone else left. It wasn’t until she was ready to leave that she realized I was in there. She told him she wasn’t leaving without me and demanded that he show her where I was. He humored her and led the way into the bathroom where I was lying in the bathtub. He picked me up and told her that he was going to prove I wanted to stay with him. Jane later told me that when he lifted me, my head fell backward and my eyes rolled back. And then he kissed my mouth.

My friend got scared and left me alone with Tim.

I don’t remember much of the middle of the night with him, but I knew he took me to his bed. I can remember not being able to feel anything—not even my own vocal chords. I wanted to scream, but nothing would come out. I wanted to run, but I couldn’t move. There were a few moments of clouded consciousness where I could hear the phone ringing from the bedside table next to us. And I could hear constant pounding on the door. Jane told me later that she regretted leaving me, so she asked another friend, David, to help her out. David was pounding on the door, and Jane was calling from the hotel phone in the hall. But Tim never answered and he never got up to see who was at the door.

When I woke up in the morning and finally had control over my own body again, I found myself covered by several sheets and comforters, even over my head. I had no idea why, and I wasn’t going to stick around to find out. I grabbed what I could and ran out the door. I left my jacket and my right sock. They were the least of my worries. What I needed was to find my mom.

By coincidence, Jane was on her way up to find me as I ran down the hall toward the elevator. I asked her why she left me and she explained her side of the story. Jane detailed the way Tim kissed me in the bathroom, how she regretted leaving me, how she and David tried calling and pounding on the door. Listening to her, I was confused but full of adrenaline because what she said made me feel safe to state, “I think Tim raped me.” To tell you the truth, I have no idea why I said, think. I knew. I think I was afraid to admit that something so heinous had happened to me. I didn’t want it to be true, so I left that door open. But NOTHING could have prepared me for her reaction. She said, “You can’t accuse someone of something like that. You could ruin his life.”

Instead, it ruined my life. At least for a while. As an adult I find it beyond comprehension that any human being would have had that response. Those wrong words were said to me at the wrong time. It changed everything in that moment and forced me to bottle my exploding feelings inside, when I should have felt secure in telling a trusted friend a terrible thing had happened to me. I was so scared about the possibility of having caught an incurable sexually transmitted disease, or being pregnant. But I said nothing and kept it all to myself. I couldn’t sleep for weeks. What was worse is that, given what happened with my uncle, I felt like I couldn’t tell my parents. I just wanted to pretend the whole thing never happened.

So I did pretend. Sure, over time, the impact lessened, but the memories and the suppressed pain never started to feel better until years later, when I started to share my story with my friends. As I grew older and wiser, my confidence grew with me. But here’s the thing: the real healing didn’t start until I admitted to myself what happened to me that night. 

I never saw my friend Jane again, and I hope you never have a friend like her. Of all of the awful things that happened at that hotel, Jane’s reaction affected me the most. I know that I’m often critical of the people you surround yourself with, my sweet girl. And that’s because I know how precious you are to me. Your friends are precious to someone else too. I want you to have the self confidence to surround yourself with real people who can help you in crisis instead of hurt. And I want you to be that same kind of friend to them. I have high standards for both you and the people you allow in your life.

You want to know if there is anything I would have done differently. That’s a complicated question because the answer is yes and no. I can’t change what happened. Nor can I change or control either of the predators who were in my life.

But what I wish was that I knew the “rules.” These are rules that I make sure you understand very clearly. You know that you’re never allowed to be in a room with an adult with the door closed, because there is no circumstance when that is appropriate. You can go ahead and blame it on me. Tell them, “My mom doesn’t let me close doors.” You can even tell them how lame I am. I don’t care, as long as the rules are being followed.

I want you to know that there is a difference between right and wrong. I also want you to know that there is a way to hold those boundaries, even while being well-mannered and sweet. Anyone who respects you will respect your rules. And a big lesson I want you to learn is that if you state the rules and someone doesn’t respect it, they are likely wanting to cause you harm.  If you say, “I’m sorry, but I don’t think it’s appropriate for me to tell you when my birthday is,” or “I’m sorry, I’m not allowed to give personal information out,” his reaction would have told you if his intentions were true or not. And if someone doesn’t respect your rules, most definitely, tell me about it.

As you get older, there will be other rules. New rules. I’m not dumb enough to expect you to wait until you are 21 to have your first taste of alcohol. If that’s what you choose, I’m all for it. But my main concern will be your safety with alcohol. Never, ever, under any circumstances should you ever let someone make you a drink. I don’t care how well you know someone—I want you to be responsible for what you are putting in your body.

I wish I knew those rules when I was your age, and I wish I followed them. But to answer your question in a different way, no. I don’t regret anything that has ever happened to me. In fact, now that I’m an adult and have dealt with my past, I embrace my experiences. I wouldn’t change a damn thing. Do you know why? Because I will gladly keep those experiences that made me wiser, smarter, and experienced enough to be as protective of you as I am. I want my experiences to be my gift to you, so you never have to experience them yourself.

Please do not waste this gift. Use it to the best of your ability, and let it make you stronger and wiser so that this world can be a better place for you. And pass your wisdom on to your children, so the world can be an even better place for them too.

I love you with all my heart and so much more. So please understand that the reason you think I overreact sometimes is because I love you too much to let a little thing pass by. You’re worth the little things.

Now get to bed. We’ll talk more tomorrow, and the next day, and for the rest of our lives.

 

Thank you for reading my letter. I hope you feel compelled to share my message with others. Thank you, Phil, for making me feel so safe and strong. If you have your own story, know there are so many people out there who will support you! Please visit Amazon to find my psychological fiction novel about sexual assault, Things You Can't Take. 

 

Why Things You Can’t Take is so relevant right now...

I first thought to write Things You Can’t Take because my childhood best friend said, “write a book about us!” To be honest, I didn’t even come close to describing the depth of the friendship she and I had as children, but Abigail and Kessia have their own unique, deep bond. They also have their own story.

As I designed the plotline, people told me to be careful about this story because sexual assault and rape are really sensitive topics, which makes it difficult to get right in a book. For some reason, despite the nay-sayers who told me how risky this would be, I saw this story clearly in my mind, and there was no stopping me. I feel very brave for following through with it.   

I am completely mystified by the timing of this book’s release. I wrote half of the story before my kids got out of school for the summer in 2017, and yet I was able to finish the first draft of the manuscript in September of 2017 - right when sexual assault became big headline news. Specifically in the entertainment industry. And even more specifically, by a big-shot Hollywood producer.

I don’t believe in coincidences. I believe there was something intangible telling me it was time to write about sexual assault, and I became driven to write this story. It seemed fitting to have it take place in the entertainment industry. All the right elements were there, and the most important element was an industry where there were people in power, people with influence. Because where there is power and ego, there is great chance for abuse.

It’s not just in the entertainment industry that sexual assault is being highlighted. Industries including sports, modeling, education, politics, journalism, are also being cracked open, exposing the sickness (is that the right word?) and abuse that’s so heavily prevalent in those professions.

It’s about time we press a reset button on the subject. We have to re-evaluate what has been going on for decades, covered up and deemed acceptable. It turns out we’re facing a bigger problem than we anticipated.

Now that we see an obvious problem, what do we do?

I certainly don’t have all the answers. But I have a few ideas that might help. I had a really great conversation with one of my neighbors, who said, “How can we teach our girls (boys can be victims too, but in this case we were talking about our girls) to help protect each other?” That is a really great question, because I think one of the greatest issues that causes sexual assault to go unreported is victim shaming.

Our girls (or boys) looking out for one another isn’t just using the buddy system at a party. It’s speaking out when you see or hear any wrong-doing happening to another person or friend. Another great task is supporting each other instead of shaming each other. We ought to LISTEN when someone tells us about abuse, and take it seriously. I hope to raise my kids with that kind of strength and integrity. Not just to protect themselves, but to help protect their friends too.

My last piece of advice on the subject is to continue the conversation with your kids. When they’re little, start by setting a good example for them. Behave and treat each other the way that would make you proud if they behaved the same way as adults. When they get a little older, teach them about respect for others AND self-respect, and what a healthy relationship should look like for them. Let them know it’s okay to speak out if they ever feel uncomfortable. It could be to a peer, a family member or an adult, but to speak to anyone who can help.

And if your children do choose to share something with you, LISTEN. And continue the conversation. Let it grow as they grow. Even after they leave for college. Even after they become young adults in the “real world.” Keep talking to them about the appropriate ways to treat each other and support each other.

Let’s start by being a leading example and teach our children to be a part of the solution.

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Goodreads

All of the Rogers Playlist

****Spoilers! **** There are plotline and end-of-story spoilers in here! If you haven’t read All of the Rogers, I recommend you read the book first. I really feel like it’s a story you should go into with an open mind and very few expectations.

I love to jog. When I have a playlist that can take my mind away, there’s no telling how long I’ll be out jogging for. It’s like I black out and then I realize I just ran for five miles. Only I don’t black out. I’m just lost daydreaming so deeply to the music I’m listening to, I forget that my body is moving. When I was writing All of the Rogers, this is the playlist I listened to. Some were added after I finished the book and some were just songs that reminded me of high school and helped bring me back to that time. Now when I listen to this playlist, it brings me back to Kerri and Roger. I fell so hard in love with those two, it’s been hard to let go.

 

Fantasy by Mariah Carey: A great opener! This is the one song that reminded me of being in high school and having a HUGE crush. I love the bubbliness and energy of it. It makes me want to bounce, jump and feel young and hopeful. This is just how Kerri felt when she first started talking to Roger. Her crush was coming to fruition and it made her feel on top of the world.

Young Love by Kip Moore: These lyrics must be just how Kerri and Roger must have felt for each other when they first started dating. They became really close really fast. I love how this song even touches on sneaking around and getting picked up at a neighbor's house so her parents won’t know. Just how Roger always picked up and dropped of Kerri at Neve’s house or the corner. I also love how this song captures the essence of teens in love feeling invisible but not knowing anything at all. 

Creep by Radiohead: This song really captures so much of the whole book - at least Rogers side of it and how he grew to feel about Kerri. There relationship certainly didn’t start out this way, but it quickly became co-dependent. Roger even knew that this song reminded him of his relationship with Kerri. And the intensity of the song is a good match for the intensity of their young relationship and Roger’s feelings. This is one of the bigger red flags that Kerri was just too young to see. Roger was a lot more insecure than anyone could have imagined. 

Sail by Awlonation: It’s as if this song is in Roger’s head. “This is how I show my love. I made it in my mind because I blame it on my ADD baby.” Roger couldn’t have said it better himself. This song captures him so well. I also think there’s a paranoia in Roger about losing Kerri and it makes him crazy. Especially watching this video, it’s obvious this song has a lot to do with paranoia and obsession. 

Ghetto Superstar by Ol’ Dirty Bastard and Maya: And back to being more light hearted. Roger and Kerri’s relationship was a lot of back and forth in the book and I like getting pulled back and remembering that they are just kids having fun. This song reminds me of prom when I was in high school (really showing my age here). Not so much for the lyrics but because of the beat, energy and hearing it so many times back then. For the book, it reminds me maybe a little more of homecoming. But just like homecoming, they were still just kids wanting to have fun at Prom… it just didn’t end up the way Kerri wanted it too. 

The Funeral by Band of Horses: This is one of my favorite songs. I have a very unique take on it. I don’t think of this song as singing about a literal funeral. I feel as if this song is really about continuing a relationship you know won’t work. As if you’re starting something you know will die before you even get going with it. After prom was a pivotal moment for Kerri. I think that was truly the first time she felt like she wanted to, and should, break up with Roger - but she just couldn’t. So moving forward, she had it in her head that it was always going to end. Roger never felt that way and Kerri had moved on so far from her original feelings for Roger, she wasn’t able to look back anymore. And yet, she wasn’t strong enough to let go of him either. 

End of the Road by Boyz II Men: So cheesy, I know! But come on! Kerri and Roger’s relationship is literally at the end of the road for them. Roger might not realize it yet, but Kerri and the rest of us surely do. I feel like if Roger knew the relationship was coming to an end, he would have sang this song to Kerri. 

Say Something by A Great Big World & Christina Aguilera: This is my absolute favorite version of the song. It brings me so many emotions and feels so powerful. This would be the song that Kerri sings to Roger. She loves him so much, but she simply gives up on them. It hurts her deeply, even though it’s really the right thing to do. I can’t watch this video without balling. And I can’t read All of the Rogers without balling - they both break my heart every time.  

Over You by Miranda Lambert: I’m pretty sure that I heard this song was written by Blake Shelton about his brother who passed away when they were younger. I think that’s why it sounds so honest. Kerri undoubtedly loved Roger but her feelings are so conflicting because she’s so confused by his death. And that horrible horrible feeling that you’ll never feel okay again and that you’ll never move on from this heartbreaking tragedy. That’s how a lot of people feel about losing a loved one, but her feelings also have a lot to do with her youth and inexperience with life. She handles it as best she can and eventually, she becomes stronger for it. 

When We Were Young by Adele: If All of the Rogers was made into a movie, I can visualize this song being played during the ending credits. I love how Roger will always be Kerri’s greatest memory of her youth. I love thinking about her looking back on their relationship and glorifying it, thinking how strong and magical their love was. And it really was. He will be with her through everything she does for the rest of her life. She even kept his memory so strongly with her when she fell in love with Garrett - after lots of grieving, healing and time. She was able to be in a healthy relationship from learning from her relationship with Roger. 

You Know What Season It Is...

It's football season!

My ducks might not be having as great of a season as I'd like, but they're still finding a way to inspire me to write. It's all about forward progress. 

I was born an eternal optimist. I find the good or positive twist in just about everything. It's true, some days are better than others. But again, it's all about forward progress.

Every month, week or day, I set a goal for myself. Usually, I tell myself how many words I want to write a day to finish a manuscript. I don't always reach that daily goal and write as many words as I intend. Right now I'm working on Things You Can't Take. If I say I have thirty thousand more words left until I feel the novel is complete and I only get to write two thousand words that day - I call that forward progress. 

Just keep moving that needle and eventually you'll look back at the one hundred yards you've completed and realize you're in the end zone. It's all about forward progress. 

Go DUCKS... or whichever team you root for :) 

All of the Feels...

All of the Rogers review by Tara Bryant:

I had the honour of reading and reviewing All Of The Rogers, a novel by Erin Lockwood. 

This book did me in!  The emotions I had while reading All Of The Rogers had me feeling like I was on an emotional roller coaster. The ups, downs, happy, sad, worried and broken. Taking us back to high school, the setting Erin portrays takes us into real life struggles that teenagers deal with everyday. The relationships with peers, parents and teachers, as well as the drama that comes with each of these topics. 

"I want to be a normal teenager. I just have no idea how. This isn’t going to be easy. But, for the first time in a long time, I’m excited about my future."

One of the topics most prevalent in All Of The Rogers is mental illness. The reality of how hard it is for people to talk about it and how it isn't so easily diagnosed, made this book all the more real. Erin touched on topics most people wouldn't dare talk about, and to me, this book will help others feel that it is ok to talk about mental illness. 

"I look into his eyes, half-begging him to kiss me and half-telling him to stop cutting off communication when he’s upset. That means he will have to talk to me when he’s mad, instead of falling off the face of the earth and then pretending like nothing ever happened when he comes back up."

The characters in All Of The Rogers are so relatable, from the awkward wall flower, to the cutest boy with the secrets, to the popular girl that will do anything for attention, Erin's descriptive writing helps us connect with each character on different levels. 

"If anyone applauds, I don’t hear it. All I hear is a ringing in my ears. Suddenly, I can feel the effects of not eating or drinking all day. Instead of going back to my seat, I move to the side and push through the doors, stumbling into the hallway. My back slides against the wall, and I hug my knees, hanging my head and crying."

I came into reading All Of The Rogers with a completely open mind, and within the first 20 pages I was hooked. As I kept reading each word tugged at my heart strings and gave me all the feels. By the end I was a mess of tears. All The Rogers is now in my top 5 favourite books!

⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

Buy Now!

All of the Rogers COVER REVEAL!

I'm so excited to share the cover for ALL OF THE ROGERS! This story is very close to my heart and I can't wait for you to read it! Check out the excerpt below. 

Pre-order on Amazon: http://amzn.to/2i2Hn0Q

Blurb:

"How can you love someone so much, and need space from them at the same time?"

My alarm goes off at four am. It takes an hour to get to the studio, and then my ballet training begins. I go to school for a few hours, and then it’s back to the studio for more training. Go to bed. Repeat the whole process the next day.

I hate it.

My time at school is a blur, except for biology. I don’t rush through that class, because I get to see Roger Byrnes. He probably doesn’t even know I exist, but my heart beats a little faster when I see him walk through the classroom door with his messy hair and carefree attitude. He has so much energy. But then he stares off into the distance, and I wonder what he’s thinking. It’s the highlight of my day.

I wish I could quit ballet so I could be a normal teenager. Someone who Roger would want to be with. I could use some excitement in my life…I bet Roger could give that to me.

Excerpt:
I offer to go get him a blanket, but he refuses. Roger crawls onto the seat and lies down, immediately closing his eyes. Without seeing, he reaches out and grabs my hand before I have a chance to close the door and walk back to my house.

“Stay?” he asks. “Sleep with me here. I can’t sleep without you.”

I look at his face. His eyes are closed, and his smooth, milky skin reminds me of a baby. He’s so beautiful.

“Just for a little bit,” I say. I curl up on top of him.

His arm drapes over me and cups my shoulder. His other arm curves across my lower back, keeping me from falling off this one chair we’re both lying on. I can tell how tired he is. He might even be asleep already, but his muscles feel so strong under me. Even in his deepest sleep, I don’t believe he would let me fall off this chair or move away from him.

“Don’t you think it’s funny that our anniversary is on your birthday and prom is on mine?” he asks in a whisper.

But he’s not anticipating a response. I feel his chest relax under me, and I know he’s on the verge of being asleep.

“What do you want for your birthday?” I ask, not knowing if he’s awake enough to answer.

“I just want you to love me forever,” he mumbles.

Then, his breathing evens out.

I breathe in deep through my nose, giving him time to drift off further. “I don’t think I can ever stop loving you. But I can’t do this forever,” I say, knowing he’s fallen asleep, so he can’t hear me.

Psst... did you know?

I do a little modeling on the side for June Ruby!

Not only have they thrown me amazing launch parties for Angles and Planning Penelope, but they have an amazing social media presence. Everything you see in the photos below are for sale - except my watch and wedding ring :). Even at the launch party, I wore only June Ruby. 

You can find them on facebook. Online shopping has been around for a while, but my new favorite is social media shopping. I love having a one-stop-shop, where I can work, socialize and shop. You can comment on any image and inquire about the clothes or accessories. If it's something you want, let them know your size and if you need it shipped. They'll reach out to you from there!

LET'S CELEBRATE!

I hope those of you in Denver can stop by for our launch party. This will be a true celebration with drinks to cheers Planning Penelope! We've been having a great launch week so far and readers are starting to respond to the creepiness of Alex. 

If you're not in the Denver area, keep your eye out for fb live chats and photos. 

Don't forget to shop!! June Ruby is also celebrating their three year anniversary and offering a generous 30% off. That's a deal you can't miss. If you're not in town, you can find them on facebook and www.juneruby.com.