Lavinia Thompson's Blog: Seeking reviewers! , page 19

Thoughts ~ Should domestic violence victims be able to hire hit men to kill abusers?

“The Supreme Court of Canada is hearing competing arguments over whether the so-called battered woman’s defence should include the hiring of a hit man to kill an abusive spouse.”

That’s what is in the headlines today coming from the Province newspaper in Vancouver. My question is, why should they even be debating this? If cops did their jobs in the first place and if there proper laws implemented in the justice system to begin with, this debate wouldn’t even be happening.

While this sounds like a good idea on the surface- surely we have all contemplated taking the law into our hands when it comes to a tyrannical, abusive partner- when it comes down it, this is nothing more than the government trying to brush of the responsibilities of cops onto citizens- real, hurting,  terrorized, victimized citizens. Is that fair? It’s like saying “Hey, here’s a gun, because we didn’t help you nearly as much as we should, so dealing with your abusive spouse is STILL your responsibility.” Ludicrous! It means the cops still don’t do anything more than they did before. And they didn’t do a whole lot for battered women to begin with.

In the ten years my mother was routinely beaten every night, the cops did NOTHING for her. I do NOT agree a woman should be able to hire a hit man to kill her spouse. Murder is murder. I DO think the government and the cops need to SMARTEN UP, do their jobs and start protecting these women. Tougher laws, more liberty for the cops to do something with these scumbag abusers, as in throwing them in JAIL and not just kicking them out of the house for the night when they can come back the next night and do it again. They need RESOURCES for women to get out of these situations and to escape for GOOD.

We apparently live in a country where we protected by the law, but it has been proven time and time again that this isn’t the case for abused women and their children. Why do sex offenders get less jail time than pot heads? Why do we continually see cases of women killing their spouses because the cops did nothing for them? Why should that be her responsibility? The law is not the responsibility of the abuse victim. That is the cops’ job. And it is the government’s job to implement effective and tough laws against these abusers who continually get away with what they do. When the cops and the government fail, the abuse victims are still the ones who suffer. And abusers still get away with it because the cops already tell abused women, as they told my mother, that there is nothing they can do for her and there is nothing she can do. So it comes down to either he kills her, or she kills him.

As it stands, with our justice system, a woman may as well hire a hit man because it`s better than what the cops can do for her. But it’s not her job to so, and until the justice system and the government start doing their jobs properly and protecting these women, this is how it’s going to be.

Read more about this debate:

http://www.theprovince.com/news/Should+battered+woman+legal+defence+Canada+include+hiring/6782274/story.html#ixzz1xnn9jZ5S

~ Update ~ Second edition Spellbound, Facebook page closure

As some of you have seen from the excerpts that have been posted over the past few days, I am working on a second edition of Spellbound by Fire; to include more magickal elements and to touch it up a bit. I am expecting this to be done in a month by the time I have added everything to it and my editor gets through with it. I have added an excerpt page for Spellbound here on the blog: http://laviniathompsonauthor.wordpress.com/spellbound-excerpts/.

Also, I am announcing the closure of my Facebook fan page. I will no longer be sending updates via Facebook and here is why: http://alwaysupward.com/blog/fb-fans-arent-seeing-your-posts-and-how-to-fix-it/

There are rumours this is a hoax. Perhaps the page admins having to pay for posts might be, but the fact that you, my readers, have not been seeing my posts, is true. According to the little numbers underneath my posts, only about two per cent of you are seeing any of the posts I put out there. Hubby and I tested this. Under another one of his accounts, he “liked” the page and when I issued a post from my blog, he never received it. How aggravating! I have noticed in the past few weeks that while traffic to the blog stays as steady as it usually is, the interactions on my Facebook page have drastically decreased, which doesn’t add up. What is the point in having a fan page if people don’t see your posts?

I have heard similar complaints from multiple other people who run fan pages too. So, my main interactions with you, the readers, will be through Twitter (https://twitter.com/LaviniaThompson) and this blog. You can also find me on Goodreads, where I post reviews from books I’ve read and keep updates as well.

And another brief announcement: “She Wasn’t Allowed to Giggle” has caught the attention of my local YWCA for abused women. I will be donating a paperback copy of the book to them this week! I am really ecstatic about this. I also have an interview with a local arts and entertainment magazine on Thursday to talk about my books. This will be my first media interview!

Otherwise, it is back to working on Spellbound the second edition and after that, the sequel!

~ Excerpt~ From Spellbound by Fire, the second edition

A little taste of what the second edition of Spellbound by Fire will hold…

The days still came and went. Sunsets and sunrises passed in coloured streaks like nothing ever happened. With each one that passed, Janey felt emptier, her will drowned by a depression that seemed to draw her deeper into darkness. She awoke every morning never feeling alive. She survived every day to lie down every night feeling more worthless than before.

Jill was gradually teaching Janey more about the mysterious extents of her magickal powers. Together, they would wander into the dense forest through the waist-high grass, where the colourful butterflies would pop vibrantly from nowhere and flutter into the sky.

Jill explained to Janey the levels of magick; that each witch started off at the apprentice level. It was the level at which an apprentice learned the very basics of magick; its every day uses, and how to properly control it.

“There are four elements that come into account when it comes to magick,” Jill told her, opening her Book of Magick to show Janey some of the text. “Water, Earth, Air and Fire are all the basis of all life and all things in the world, and all magick. Every witch has a preference for which element she likes working with most, which corresponds to whether her magickal tools are gold or silver.”

Jill flipped to the page she wanted Janey to read and handed it to her. Janey held the Book of Magick in her hands, awe-struck at how ancient the book was, the tattered edges of the pages and the slight fading of the ink.

Jill smiled at the expression on Janey’s face. “It was my mother’s book. You are the only woman outside of my family to ever see this, besides Olivia.”

Janey let her eyes wander over the pages of the book, soaking in the sacred knowledge through the decades-old handwriting on yellowed pages.

Elements of Kawilaran Magick

Water: The liquid of life, a drink that keeps all things alive. Water is vital in brewing potions, harvests, and life in general. Water is symbolized by the west, the cup, the colour blue, the chalice and cauldron, female principle, nature’s rhythms, emotions, instability, indifference, and is associated with the metal silver.

Earth: The soil upon which living things walk and food of plants that feed living things. Earth is symbolized by the north, fertility, aquisition, darkness, practicality, boredom, patience, responsibility, the colour green and is associated with the metal gold.

Fire: A source of heat and light and the power of the sun. Fire is symbolized by the south, the sword, male principle, courage, defense against hostile forces, anger, jealousy, the colour orange and is associated with the metal gold.

Air: The very breath in all living things and a force that moves. Air is symbolized by the east, the sword, male principle, energy, intellect, endeavour and is associated with the metal silver.

 

Janey was somewhat familiar with the elements she was reading about; Olivia had taught her the basics of magick and not much more. Her aunt was always reluctant to teach Janey more magick because of how Tia Justace viewed witchcraft. While there was a witch population there, there were also rumours and vindictive women who looked down upon the way Janey and Olivia lived. The fact Olivia wasn’t there made it painfully obvious just how cruel even people not associated with the Black Guards could be. But suddenly, in spite of all that, Janey felt a small spark of excitement at the possibilities. She had this power, this talent not every girl had, and she had a High Sorceress’s daughter to teach her all these things.

“That’s just the basics?” she asked. Jill smiled.

“Just the very basics, my dear; there is still so, so much you can learn,” the red head stated, her eyes glimmering a little at Janey’s subtle enthusiasm.

Excerpt continued…

A continuation from the excerpt I posted earlier…

“That’s just the basics?” Janey asked. Jill smiled.

“Just the very basics, my dear; there is still so, so much you can learn,” the red head stated, her eyes glimmering a little at Janey’s subtle enthusiasm.

“The other part of that are metals. Gold and silver are the essential metals to Kawilaran magick. Each witch has her own preference,” Jill continued, drawing her glimmering sword from its sheath. “For me, it’s silver. My mother always carried this sword. She gave it to me shortly before the Black Guards attacked Kawilara and I have held it dear ever since.”

The sword shimmered gloriously in the sun, its handle a blinding glitter of silver jewels and diamonds. The blade was shining steel, and silver snaked in the middle of the blade dangerously. It was the most eloquent weapon Janey had ever seen.

“This is the centre of my personal magick powers. The silver embedded in the blade is what withholds magick and releases it when I need. With this, I can summon devastatingly destructive storms, herds of animals, wolf packs…” Jill stated, breathtaken by the sight of her own weapon, as if seeing it was something that never got old to her eyes.

“It takes that much power to summon a wolf pack?” Janey asked, still unable to comprehend the fact she had actually done such a thing.

Jill gave her a slow nod as she placed the sword back in its sheath at her small waist. “My dear, as I said, you have the potential to be a high-level witch. A mid-level witch in trouble like you were could summon perhaps one or two wolves out of desperation, but it takes a considerable amount of power to summon a pack. Given the magickal blood lines in your family, namely Olivia, I am not entirely surprised you did it.”

For more excerpts from Spellbound by Fire and the sequel, Spellbound by the Sword, visit the excerpt page: http://laviniathompsonauthor.wordpress.com/spellbound-excerpts/ 

~ Poem ~ But the Wildflowers…

Can feel the storm coming on;

dreaded heat of summer

leaves me dead cold,

walking out where

wildflowers on the hill

grow in purple bunches

and the clouds are black…

but the blossoms…

the blossoms…

To throw them in the air

leaves me breathless.

Always said I’d break free,

I’d be a gypsy, I’d leave

but I’m standing on the hill

where we ran through

waist high grass

watching trains on the bridge.

You could say those years haunt me

but the rain…

the rain…

You can see the storms

approaching from prairies afar.

I remember the high school;

girls in designer clothes like queens,

rumours flying from their perfect mouths,

boys out back getting stoned,

rebellious spirits with nothing better to do.

A gypsy could have burned the place

but the innocence…

the innocence…

It’s shattered. I have never been the same

and you want to tell me

it’s all part of growing up

when some kids hangs himself

after bullies ridiculed his dead father.

It’s not as easy as retaliation

for vicious queens only get more vicious

and the gypsy just breaks…

but the storms…

the storms…

Cackle and roar. I stand out where

nothing reigns, soaked to the bone,

lightning cracking over my head,

thunder’s bellows sooth my soul,

gales tear apart old walls.

Tornado, just destroy the possessed halls

that turn children into monsters

then into housewives and cursing men,

women once stealing kisses now

confined to bills and babies…

but the song…

the song…

I listen to it so I remember

what her life is now,

the things that trap her

while I roam freely the streets

downtown by light of the four ways

and the silence of nothing

as storms roll in, calm before destruction

lividly engulfs this town whole.

Storms roll in and I await them

to tame the angered nomadic soul

touching petals…

but the wildflowers…

the wildflowers…

“Wildflowers Scattered, Estranged: Memoirs of a Small Town Girl” Released and FREE all June!

I was up all night formatting and revising “Wildflowers Scattered, Estranged: Memoirs of a Small Town Girl” and it was officially released this morning! It is available on Amazon for $0.99 (http://www.amazon.com/dp/B0088XJB56) BUT for the month of June as part of its launch, “Wildflowers” will be FREE on Smashwords! (https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/168954) So grab a copy and enjoy some poetry about growing up, friendship, loss, love and life trials of becoming a grown woman from a small town.

“Wildflowers Scattered, Estranged: Memoirs of a Small Town Girl” cover
By Lavinia Thompson
2012

~ Poem ~ Smoke Rings in the Dusk

Wheat fields waver under

sun set drenched pink,

tinged purple hues

something deeply romantic,

like lace and leather,

worn beneath candlelight.

Laughter soft in the night,

hunger in the air,

stars revolving passionately

somewhere in the dark,

full moon a giant orange light

bathing us in celestial dust.

And the midnight train moans

just how lonely it is out in nowhere

like an old song about that summer

I haven’t heard in years,

takes me back to late night sex,

smoking in the dark,

two vagabonds uncertain of the highway,

all it’s mysteries in a storm, watching

lightening in your eyes

as the rain falls down… 

Lost in rock and roll when nothing else

saves your agonized soul.

It was mystifying

how explosions of passion in the sky

could consume two lonely people so wildly;

lips down my neck,

making love to sounds of the highway

out the window,

every moan of ecstasy,

clambering adoration

as trains blew through this small town.

I have never been the same…

since a first kiss at the bus depot.

I could have crawled under your skin

right then and there.

Watched many sun sets under your eyes,

just want to be savoured by you.

Every touch is gentle as the wildflower’s touch.

Every word is poetic, like smoke in the dusk.

I will never

hold someone else

and I will never know passion again like this

when hunger over takes

even the full moon’s wrath,

when storms blow away long before

we’re through with being tangled in skin.

And no other dreams

could ever matter more

then being lost in a moment with you.

Touch of lace;

silken laughter slipped over scars

when nothing else ever matters

except smoke rings in the night

where dreams of eternity burn long after

desire has dimmed to candlelight,

long after sweat of sex has dried

with midnight winds,

watching as storms float away,

summer’s hunger enlivened…

desired,

astounded

mystified.

Update ~ Productive period of transience ~

It is a period of transience right now, somewhere between an old job and an old life, and venturing off into the unknown to find new opportunities and new goals.

I am taking this time off as a chance to not only release my new poetry book, “Wildflowers Scattered, Estranged: Memoirs of a Small Town Girl” which is currently with my editor, but also to go back to Spellbound by Fire and make some improvements. One of my favourite things about self-publishing is the ability to always go back, make changes and improve my books. No book is ever perfect, but having the creative power to continually improve it makes it a lot more fun to publish and experiment with a book. Maybe making a few adjustments will increase sales. Maybe turning it in for another edit will keep readers interested.

 

 

 

Writers often call books their “babies.” I am no different. My books are like my children, as precious as my beloved dog. But like either dog or child, there are always areas of improvement when it comes to development over its lifetime.

 

 

 

 

After all this, I will be getting back to the Spellbound sequel with some new inspirations and new ideas stemming from improvements being made in the first book. It’s a pretty exciting time!

And keep your eyes watching for “Memoirs of a Small Town Girl”, to be released in the next week or so!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Another reminder: “She Wasn’t Allowed to Giggle” is also available in paperback now, for those of you who missed the announcement! It is $8 on Createspace (https://www.createspace.com/3700964) and Amazon (http://www.amazon.com/Wasnt-Allowed-Giggle-Lavinia-Thompson/dp/1466401613/ref=tmm_pap_title_0?ie=UTF8&qid=1338772484&sr=8-1)

In a few weeks, hubby and I will be off to go fruit picking for the summer. It is a new experience I am looking forward to. The Spellbound sequel will be released this fall following that!

Update ~ “She Wasn’t Allowed to Giggle” IN PRINT!

A short announcement…

As I have been working hard to do in the past few months, I have finally released my poetry book, “She Wasn’t Allowed to Giggle” in its print edition. It is available right now on CreateSpace at https://www.createspace.com/3700964 for $8.00 and will be available on Amazon and other sites in about a week or so!

Update ~ Every ending is a new beginning

I have always thought of my mother’s house as a place of warmth, comfort and welcoming. Even on a rainy Sunday such as this, there is a tranquility settled in here. Scents of coffee through the house. Hockey game blaring on the TV. Rain or snow pouring down windows. Late nights watching activity in the trailer park. Listening to trains blowing through all hours of the night. Coffee and smoking in the morning. Dogs and cats awaiting their breakfast and some love.

I’ve been back and forth to home a few times now. I go out into the world, chase some dreams and when things don’t quite work out I drift on back.

Drifting back this time was a little different. A dream died with the leaving this time. Everything I thought I would be has changed, and I`m too sure how to feel about it. I thought the small town journalism job I scored at an oceanfront newsroom was the kick start to a career.

But small town journalism has never been my thing. It`s a lot of free advertising for events, school board meetings, networking and being a community figure of sorts. I guess my issue is I covered bigger stories in college than I ever did in any small town; hardcore crime like child porn and murder. To be de-elevated to seniors` teas and elementary school coverage was rather deflating.

I`ve always had big dreams of being a hardcore crime journalist slinking stealthily through the skyscrapers of Vancouver. My original dream when I started college was to be just like Don Cherry on Hockey Night in Canada, that is, until realizing broadcast really isn`t for me.

Vancouver 2011
Lavinia Thompson

Driving through Vancouver to go home one more time, watching the ocean and the skyscrapers and traffic jams, I think the journalism dream is over too. The more time I spend in and around media, the more I look at it and wonder why. Most times I disagree with what media covers anyways. Instead of issues that really matter, we`re fed celebrity gossip and political scandals and strange oddities. But I guess the humanitarian in me conflicts with all that.

So I have the summer of fruit picking out in orchards to think about what I`m going to do from here. I`m not sure what the dream or goal is from here. The only certain thing is writing my books. Beyond that, anything could go and I guess that`s the fun part of life. Free spirited, a little wild, restless and free; as of now I have two books to release this year and some goals to set. In the meantime, I am looking forward to getting back to my hippie roots a little. I feel like I have been missing that for a while.

Every ending is another beginning.

 

~ Poem ~ Photos Through the Windshield

If life’s story could be told

with photos taken through a windshield;

miles unfolded,

notes and dreams scribbled on maps.

Sometimes seems like I’ve seen it all,

some days I haven’t seen enough.

Mountains vanish into clouds

as if they stretch on into forever,

shades of pink

like wild roses blooming at dusk

over everything.

This highway will take me home tonight

like it always does

when another town is sick of me.

Staring myself down to wonder

what to make of my life.

Counting years when I’ve done nothing,

a list of things I’ve never done,

dreams not followed,

stories incomplete,

photos taken through a windshield

are all I have to show for it.

Jobs quit, friends and favourite places

left behind for a something more

I keep talking about.

Starting to wonder if it’s real

or is it an illusion of life…

something in this life…

Deferred, like piles of unfinished

manuscripts in a tattered box.

Abandoned, plans of what I

always thought I would be.

Dragged, something pulls a

gypsy spirit down the highway.

Weary, watching white lines

and scenery passing by.

I don’t know how to settle.

That’s a truth I face tonight.

Something about headlights

on a night shrouded intersection,

strange motels, coffee to go,

too many highway signs to count and

too many photos taken through a windshield.

I stopped just to stand in one place

so I knew how it felt;

solitude.

I stared into the darkening skyline

without approaching it

wondering

what kind of existence

drives so many miles

and still goes nowhere?

 

Blossoms on the sidewalk
Lavinia Thompson
2012

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

“Photos Through the Windshield” will be featured in my upcoming poetry book “Wildflowers Scattered, Estranged: Memoirs of a Small Town Girl” to be released in summer 2012.

Memoirs of a Small Town Girl cover art
Cover by Lavinia Thompson
2012
To be released summer 2012