Lavinia Thompson's Blog: Seeking reviewers! , page 24

UPDATE: Spellbound cover reveal and why I chose to self-publish

I now have the rights back for "Spellbound by Fire" from my publisher. I have to say, it's quite a relief. In my last post, I didn't clarify many of the reasons why I withdrew it from the publisher aside from wanting to self-publish "Spellbound."

It might seem hasty to withdraw a book two weeks before its release date just to become one more author who has turned away from a publisher and set a foundation in self-publishing. It might seem rash.

But to tell the truth, I had been considering self-publishing as an option for "Spellbound" before it was accepted by the publisher. I recall saying that if it was rejected "one more time:" I would self-publish it. But behold, it was accepted. That was in April. The first release date was quoted for Sept. 15, 2011. A few weeks before that date, I was told the release got pushed to Nov. 16, 2011 because of a "production schedule."

That means I waited almost seven months for my book to come out. I spent that time waiting on a publisher while I could have had it released back in the summer. Don't get me wrong- my experience with the publisher was a good one. I don't have a bad thing to say about them. What finally convinced me to self-publish the "Spellbound" series was learning that there was a possibility that my release date might have been changed again. It was a hunch, not a for sure thing, yet I couldn't stand that though. Instead of waiting on the publisher to release it, I decided to delay my own release and withdraw it to self-publish it.

The publisher would have paid me a 10 per cent royalty for print books and 35 per cent for eBooks. By self-publishing, I'll be making 80 per cent royalty on eBooks and upwards of 100 per cent royalty on print books. That is a huge difference, especially with a book that might have some promise of success.

"Spellbound by Fire" will still be released in 2011. I am hoping to have it released for the end of November. On that note, I reveal to you the new cover art for "Spellbound by Fire." The stunning image was designed by frenchfox on deviantart.com, and he so generously allowed me to use it for the cover. He calls it "The Stake of the Witches."

 

 

Announcement: Spellbound withdrawn from publisher

I have withdrawn Spellbound by Fire from Hellfire Publishing.

It is nothing against Hellfire Publishing. The company is friendly and good to its writers. I don't have a bad word to say about them.

My reason for withdrawing Spellbound is simple. After learning to process of self-publishing with She Wasn't Allowed to Giggle, I decided that self-publishing would be the better route for Spellbound as well. It will be released by the end of the year. That was my goal when 2011 started. I know it means that the release date is delayed some more, but it will be worth it. I'll continue with updates as I go through the self-publishing process for Spellbound. Everyone, be patient- it is coming!!

 

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Update: Crawling back (again)

No matter how far out into the world I venture, I always seem to end up here: my mother's house, sitting on my bed, a glass of eggnog to kick off the holiday season and debating which work in progress to get to.

My fiancé and I made that long 18-hour drive back to Alberta to be with my mother. It was tiring, but we always love a good road trip, even if it did snow before and after we hit Kelowna. That Tom Petty song, "Keep Crawling Back to You" played when we first drove into BC across the border. It's strange how the song has meaning driving both ways. I suppose the intention at the destination is what makes it feel I go crawling back every time.

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In any case, we are home and looking down the long road of a cold winter that weather forecasters are calling for. I've found work housecleaning and with freelance photography. It'll be money coming in until my books can do that for me. "Spellbound by Fire" comes out in 13 days (Nov. 16). Once work and everything is scheduled out, I'll be getting back to the sequel. In the meantime, I am doing bits of planning on a paranormal horror I am starting, called "Where Only the Graveyard Grows." My second poetry book, "Memoirs of a Small Town Girl" is still in the editing process. It kind of got put on the back burner as we were moving.

I've realized that with all these novels started, I need to organize myself and set deadlines for the completion of their first drafts. So here it is:

    Spellbound by the Sword is naturally my first priority, seems as Spellbound by Fire comes out so soon. Deadline for first draft: May 2012.
   Where Only the Graveyard Grows is a paranormal horror I have started. So far I have a bit of a character profile for it. However, the deadline for its first draft is Oct. 2012.
   Magic Touch is my crime-fiction novel. Due to the research it requires and some of that research needing me to be in Vancouver, I'm pushing this one further down on the list. Deadline for first draft: Spring 2013
Edge of Glory is a novel I just started. I've got about 1,000 words of a scene and that's really about it. Not sure where it's going yet. Deadline for first draft: Fall 2013.
Wildflowers Scattered, Estranged: Memoirs of a Small Town Girl has become more a side project. I'm not sure when this one will be done.

That's the plan. Now for the execution of it…and hopefully by the end of all these being self-published, the dream of being a full-time writer will be real.

 

 

 

 

 

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~ Poem ~ Against the Backdrop (For Dad)

My father died Nov. 11, 1988, while my mother was still pregnant with me. I posted a picture of the ocean that said "I have an angel watching over me and his name is Daddy" yesterday after my fiancé found it and shared it with me on Facebook.

Just today, my mother told me that Oct. 21 was his birthday. Not a moment after that, LeeAnn Womack's song "I Hope You Dance" started randomly playing on my computer. This is the poem inspired by all this.

Time

is a wheel in motion

like the sea;

crashing the shores

in a storm;

restless. 

Don't take breathing for granted.

Some learn it the hard way.

Some never learn it at all.

Some dance by the ocean

under light of every dusk,

just a silhouette…

against something greater

than any one being.

Feeling small against

the sea and the sky and this life.

Something in the way

you're always behind me

no matter where I roam;

something in the way

you always take my hand

and lead me home…

protected.

Life

is a continuous string of breaths

like the wind

collecting autumn leaves

and blowing them away;

scattered. 

Don't ever believe you don't matter.

Some fall just to crawl away.

Some flee at break of day.

Some simply stand in one moment;

arms stretched open wide

to the sea, to the sea

and then there's me… 

lost at best but finding a way.

Said I'd walk a hundred miles to get to you

and I'm driving a thousand to get home.

When ten doors slam shut

another has to open somewhere.

When faith is denounced

you're selling out on yourself.

(not just religion, but hope

and the belief there really is

something more)

Choice

is a conscious thought, a breath;

content,

like whispers of the ocean on rocks

at world's end

sometimes colliding… 

with someone who wants to leave you

bitter, cold-hearted, destroyed.

Don't be.

Step into morning's first light

sun-drenched, astounded.

I have been beaten down and tortured

yet standing beside the ocean,

this vast stretch of power and elegance

it doesn't even matter

for after tragedy you'll only find the gypsy 

dancing.

It's the grace of yourself;

expression

of every wondrous feature one beholds.

You're there if ever I feel small

against the backdrop.

Like the sea.

­

 

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Sunshine Coast sunset, 2011

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New story excerpt: "Edge of Glory"

She had been wandering the lonely streets for too long, past night clubs flashing neon lights and the pink rays that stretched from windows in tall buildings. Dance music blasted, bass shaking the walls and everyone within them.

There was a certain glory to people that hung around this side of town; girls in skimpy skirts and leather, guys in their leather jackets, pretty cars and some roaring around on Harley Davidsons. Society's outcasts slouched against old brick walls covered in graffiti from local troublemakers that routinely shot up the area. The broken windows in abandoned buildings told the stories.

Lucki used to tear up those streets; her six string on her back and nowhere else to go but find another bar or street corner to play on. Busking had been her way of life for years; always searching for the next edge of glory, believing with all her restless vagabond heart that one song would get her somewhere one day.

She wandered past the club, blending in with the rest of the drunk and rowdy crowd; jeans ripped at her knees and leather jacket jingling with chains. Under the leather was her old black t-shirt with a motorcycle and silver cursive writing: Edge of Glory. Her curly black hair fell past her shoulders, shaking as she walked along and adjusting her guitar on her shoulder. She was a rebel among college kids who only acted like rule-breakers.

No one would recognize her from that scene. She had wandered so far from her old stomping grounds that everything had changed by the time she found her way back to those Lethbridge streets. She stood on the corner in the October cold where her life, her music journey had begun. Behind her was Studio, the club where college crazies and partiers crammed into every weekend. Down the block from her was another club installed into an old dirty building, where the smell of marijuana drifted out into the street. Across the street was the Owl Acoustic Lounge. She knew that about four or five blocks away, Average Joe's, a sports bar with a music lounge in the back garage for open jams, would have been hopping with a hockey game on. All walks of life inhabited downtown on Saturday nights.

Lucki smiled a little, that autumn wind chilling her to the bone but she barely felt the cold. Hanging on to her guitar, she turned around and wandered past Studio 54, slipping by the drunken freaks filing out the doors and into cabs. Lucki shook her head with a small laugh to herself.

Of all the places she had been to in her time away, Lucki knew there wasn't a place quite like Lethbridge. The underground music scene was enviable to other places in the country. She knew a few bands and solo artists who made it to the big time after years of hitting up the open jams and playing what shows they could; just a fellow starving artist trying to get by on a dream and some coins in their worn out pockets.

She ventured further into downtown, where a few prostitutes walked the dark streets and a few groups of men hung around outside the closed stores and shops. Lucki minded her own business as she walked, knowing just where she wanted to go as the rain began to sprinkle down on her face. Those dark eyes were intent on the bar ahead of her. It was where her journey and started and somehow where it always ended up again.

Slowing down as she approached the doors, a wide smile came across her face, her adventurous eyes lighting up. She loved this place.

The TVs inside flickered with action from that night's hockey games. Lucki took little notice in who was playing. Rather, she had her eyes set on the door in the back behind the end of the bar. She let out a small breath when she got to the door. The first step into the hidden garage was like taking another step home. To her right was the bar, and to her left were all the tables where people sat watching whichever artist happened to be on stage.

And she recognized the musician on stage right away, at the same moment his eyes looked up to catch sight of her. His hair was still long the way she remembered it; dirty blond and longer than hers. His hazel eyes glanced at her and he almost stopped in the middle of his song, but held his composure. A few people looked up and saw Lucki, though she tried to be inconspicuous. But there was no being discreet in that town.

"Lucki! Oh my  gosh!! When did you get back into town?" she heard another girl squeal. Before Lucki could set her guitar down, a pair of arms were thrown around her joyfully.

"Damn, Maggie, I missed you too," Lucki laughed as the brunette girl hugged her.

"Did you just get back here tonight?"  Maggie asked excitedly.

"Just pulled into town about a half hour ago," Lucki replied, setting her guitar case down and leaning against the bar. Looking around, she spotted a few other local musicians she knew, all awaiting their turn to go on stage.

"Are you going to go up and jam?" Maggie asked. The man on stage was strumming through a slow ballad, which caught Lucki's attention and she didn't hear Maggie's question. Maggie caught on to what Lucki was looking at.

"Johnny just got back to town about a month ago," she told Lucki.

"Ah, I was wondering…" Lucki replied as he finished his song. Quickly she took her eyes off him.

"Lucki, Lucki! Girl, where have you been?" someone else called out. Lucki turned around to find a few guys from her regular crowd approaching her.

"Hey boys, long time no see," she said happily, watching out of the corner of her eye as Johnny left the stage and vanished somewhere into the crowd.

"We're just going out for a smoke, you coming?" one of the guys asked.

"Let me go put my guitar down and sign up to play, I'll meet you guys out there," Lucki replied. She carried her guitar in its case over near the stage, where she set it down with the others awaiting their moment to shine before the small crowd in the bar.

"Lucki," she heard a familiar, deep voice behind her. She would have known it anywhere.

"Johnny," she said as she turned around to face those gentle hazel eyes.

"When did you get back into town?" he asked, leaning against the wall beside her. His muscular chest was obvious under his tight black t-shirt. He wore a black leather jacket and black jeans.

"Just tonight," Lucki replied, trying to avoid being distracted by that body like she had been so many times before.

"It's great to see you. You look good. Let me buy you a drink," he said.

"Sure, man. I'm just going to put my guitar down," Lucki told him with a small shrug. She could feel his intense eyes on her back as she took her guitar over to the area by the stage where musicians assembled their instruments. She saw a few familiar faces in the crowd and waved to those who greeted her as she went back to where Johnny was standing at the bar.

"So where the hell have you been, Lucki?" he asked after ordering drinks.

"Everywhere," Lucki said as he handed her a glass of rum and Pepsi. He always knew what she liked.

"Figures. You never stick around this town long," Johnny remarked. Lucki grinned.

"The world is a big place, Johnny. Many people are born and they die in this town, and have lived here for that entire dash in between. There's more out there," she replied.

"But you always end up back here," Johnny pointed out. Lucki shrugged.

"Something about this place…home town, you know?" she said, feeling content in the familiar scene that she had always rocked as her own. There was something about her home town that had always drawn her back again, something about the late night jams and the strange little city with its quirky pulse that always kept her going back again.  She didn't know what drew her back there from every escapade she took out into the big old world and all its changes, but she knew that at the end of every journey and with every step towards the edge of glory, something in that road always led her home again.

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Update: The things that make me crazy…

It's three in the morning. I have to work in a few hours. Instead of sleeping, I am packing up this life of mine once again and blogging about it.

I am sad to leave the west coast. However, duty calls from across the mountains and home. Since Mom had her stroke, it's been difficult to be so far away from her while trying to chase dreams. But over Thanksgiving weekend, reality took over priority. With only one eye she can see out of, my mother went through the trouble of making a great Thanksgiving dinner, as she has always done. It ached a bit to be away, but it was my first holiday away from home, so I toughed it out. That is, until she told me that she wound up eating Thanksgiving dinner alone. My sister was sick and my brother…well, he was nowhere to be seen. This was only a few days after Mom was told her anuerism is gone- something really worth celebrating.

That was the breaking point. All I could imagine was what Christmas would be like if it was going to be a repeat of Thanksgiving. So at the end of the month, my fiancé and I are taking that long journey back to Alberta.

There is good news out of this. I found a freelance journalism opportunity covering the music scene. The magazine can't pay anything, so it'll be volunteer work. But it'll be the experience that I am lacking. In a few years, newspapers won't have an excuse not to hire me. Essentially I'm starting from scratch on my journalism career. The jobs just aren't out here, in my certified field and elsewhere. Even my fiancé is having issues with jobs here. Alberta has a bigger job market, so we're hoping our luck changes back there.

This doesn't change the dream I came out here with. No matter how far I wander and no matter the town I end up in, the dream stays the same- I will be a full-time writer.

A part of the dream was accomplished here. "She Wasn't Allowed to Giggle" has been published and is selling. Just today, it received an excellent five-star Goodreads review (found here: http://www.goodreads.com/review/show/222658083). Also, the Girls Education and Mentoring Services organization, which helps girl survivors of sexual exploitation and commercial trafficking, expressed interest in the book. Yesterday I sent them a complimentary copy and I have been told it will be shared with their members and the girls they help. I'm honoured that the book will be used for the purpose for which I published it.

This has all unfolded within the past few days. Not a lot of writing has gotten done and probably won't be until the move is over. Family matters were the same thing that took me back to Alberta the last time I moved away from here. There's a Terri Clark song that comes to mind as I write this and I had to play it. A few lines really resonate with me this morning.

"But the things that make me crazy

Always make me stay

But I can't pull the trigger on that

Changing world out there

With all these dreams I can't believe

I'm still standing here

It's time to face the fact

I'm not the rebel that I thought

Cause midnight's gone

And I'm not."

~ Terri Clark "Midnight's Gone"

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Poem~ Crawling Back to You

When the tiring miles

wear and tear on jeans at your knees

there is a place called home.

When you lose your mind and flee

out to the coast, running so far west

you think you can never go back,

one day you can always go back

if you haven't burned that bridge beforehand.

When you get the choice to reconsider,

to look back and miss the faces,

the places,

to look back on the years and wonder

where they've gone.

When you have to bow out from

that fighting chance

and nothing seems to go right…



my mother awaits me at her door,

where the porch light is always on

no matter how late I pull in,

no matter the rain or blizzard

that blows me to her door.

I have seen

six billion stars in the sky

under the great wide ocean

sitting on a secluded beach

out in the vast nowhere

where not even fear reigns.

I have never feared those mountains

at the skyline.

I have walked the street

of misery, agony, poverty,

seen the faces sagging in hurt and pain,

sunk deep into bones.

I have watched fireworks explode

a million colours in a July sky;

Canada day.

So far from home, wandered away

so many times

but every time I come

crawling;

crawling back to you.

Mother once said you can be happy

but you're never content.

I still don't know what it means.

I guess you could spend a lifetime

searching for answers to things

that might not have an answer at all.

It's in your heart,

in that soul on your sleeve.

You do what you got to do

but at the end of the day

you still have to love what you do.

I have lived so freely,

breathed so sweetly,

seen so clearly.

There's only way in and out

of that sleepy town.

And I've seen that road many times.

Hands on the wheel,

eyes focussed down that highway.

I'll be home before

the first snowfall covers autumn leaves.

Come in out of the world,

from all of the things you have seen.

Fled so many times

but I always come crawling,

crawling back to you.

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Imagine: a Tribute to John Lennon

Happy birthday, John Lennon. The former Beatle would have been 71 years old today. The world lost a great man, visionary, humanitarian, hero and musician Dec. 8, 1980.

I discovered John Lennon when I was 17, at a time when I was lost for faith both in religion and the world in general. It was only a few years after the dark era in which my mother's ex ruled, so I was still soul searching and wondering what to do with myself in the big old world. I was doing some writing projects for a class and came across information about John Lennon. My mother has always a Beatle-maniac, so I grew up with the music, but it wasn't until then that I discovered the iconic man Lennon was and still is.

I picked up a book about him, with a bunch of short stories from people who knew him, and indulged into the world of this humanitarian. I was fascinated immediately. In what was just as complicated of a world then as it is now, here was this man with such simple beliefs. "War is Over (If you want it." "Remember Love and Give Peace a Chance." "If you don't want to do it, then don't do it." "Imagine."

It was like every word of his spoke to me. So I read more and more, and talked to Mom about him. Needless to say, it wasn't long before Lennon became my hero, even all these years after his tragic death. So, in his honour, I am posting an essay type thing I wrote a few years ago about him.

Imagine: a Tribute to John Lennon

"Imagine all the people

Living life in peace

You may say I'm a dreamer

But I'm not the only one

I hope someday you'll join us

And the world will be as one…"

                "Imagine"…the words of a vision yielding dreamer, a relentless political activist, a flower power peace maker, and a poet who delicately wreathed our minds with astounding images of what the world could be if we could have seen it through his eyes.

With circular glasses rested on his nose, intense eyes and soft hair waving in the New York City breeze, John Lennon set in our minds his belief of possible universal love and peace. He wasn't a celebrity- "just a regular guy." He wasn't an intellectually drugged politician, but a protester for peace and a simpler life. The things he imagined were what millions of youth followed. When he spoke, the world listened whether they liked what they heard or not. When he died tragically on Dec. 8, 1980, those same millions cried alongside each other and his unforgettable memory. We live surrounded by his controversial words and peace chants. John Lennon left behind a timeless legacy that changed the world and has the potential to change it further.

Songs, believed Lennon, were poems riddled with messages meant to change what people thought. The stunning lyrics of "Imagine" in their own elegance did just that. It described a life without a Heaven overhead, no Hell to tread upon, and a life of "no possessions" while "Sharing all the world." Lennon was a creative genius whose cunningness was never limited to his music alone. He became the quick-witted, sharp tongued voice for youth and anyone against the Vietnam War; constantly active in movements for peace, for freedom, and equality for women and blacks. The media was his outlet for a lot of his non-violent peace activism. The famous bed-ins with Yoko Ono were peaceful protests against war, in which Lennon and his new wife stayed in bed for seven days over the period of their honeymoon, much to the pleasure of the captivated reporters and photographers. The bed-ins were done to bring awareness to violence and senseless killings, to tell people that although peace couldn't bring back the lost lives, it could save those still living. Then, with little signs and gigantic billboards plastered throughout eight major cities around the world, John and Yoko told everyone that "War is Over (If You Want It)." They told us that it's up to us to do something about the things we dislike in the world; that war happens only when we let it.

These visions weren't just for peace-chanting hippies. They were for people who understood what John and Yoko had to say, the ones who found intellect behind the spontaneity and unpredictable cover of a true rocker. They were the people who took condolence in their words when everything in society seemed wrong. Lennon claimed that people were the ones doing wrong in the world, and yet it was people who could right those wrongs. He left it up to us to make the changes we want. Maybe as individuals we don't have the canny literary ability of John Lennon, but we do have power in our own lives to do our part in contributing to change and spreading the love he wanted to see; the kind of love that runs deeper than infatuation. Love starts with one person, but in a moment it can impact a number of people; make them reconsider how selfishly they live their lives and maybe even change how they think. According to John Lennon, "All you need is love," and you could give food to a hungry child, shelter to a battered and abused woman, or a roof over the head of a homeless person. Love is the one power we have by nature that we take for granted.

Though it won't save half a million lives or change as many, it'll make life for somebody a little brighter, the way John Lennon brought a smile to your face every time he struck the chords of your heart with "Imagine." Imagine what peace in your life would be like. "Imagine all the people," all colours and cultures, walking side by side without religion or social background taken into consideration. Imagine what good there is in people when the religions, possessions and adversities of life are stripped away and we stand together. Would racial slurs seem so empowering coming from the bully on the transit bus every day? Would war be such an apparent necessity for governments to fight? Should the excess words in religion really matter when in the end they all want what John Lennon wanted: love and peace for all people?

He came to us out of the haze of Beatlemania to speak for peace. He protested for us and with us, and helped us see how we could change things if we want, believe and imagine. His path in life was one that started with deep pain and ended in the love and peace he wished upon the rest of the world. He left it up to us, and regardless of how and when we decide to change things, his spirit still marches on and on through the streets of New York City, watching over the family he loved and held so dear, and watching over the ones who believed in him the way he believed in a better way of living. He revealed the flaws of the world, led us into a glorious new beginning, and then left us to make up our minds as to whether we wanted the beautiful future his imagination offered. He lived for forty years, and it's been 31 years since that December day, but his legacy is eternal and will forever be with us, in heart, in mind, and in a dominating presence that could only be the controversial John Lennon. Because after all, all he was saying was "Give Peace a Chance."

***

As she does every year, his widow, Yoko Ono, will relight the peace tower today in honour of John.

John, the world misses you more than you know. Or maybe you do know and you're waiting on us to take the action you would have. To be just as brave.

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Happy birthday, John Lennon. The former Beatle would have been 71 years old today. The world lost a great man, visionary, humanitarian, hero and musician Dec. 8, 1980.
I discovered John Lennon when I was 17, at a time when I was lost for faith both in religion and the world in general. It was only a few years after the dark era in which my mother's ex ruled, so I was still soul searching and wondering what to do with myself in the big old world. I was doing some writing projects for a class and came across information about John Lennon. My mother has always a Beatle-maniac, so I grew up with the music, but it wasn't until then that I discovered the iconic man Lennon was and still is.
I picked up a book about him, with a bunch of short stories from people who knew him, and indulged into the world of this humanitarian. I was fascinated immediately. In what was just as complicated of a world then as it is now, here was this man with such simple beliefs. "War is Over (If you want it." "Remember Love and Give Peace a Chance." "If you don't want to do it, then don't do it." "Imagine."
It was like every word of his spoke to me. So I read more and more, and talked to Mom about him. Needless to say, it wasn't long before Lennon became my hero, even all these years after his tragic death. So, in his honour, I am posting an essay type thing I wrote a few years ago about him. J
Imagine: a Tribute to John Lennon

"Imagine all the people

Living life in peace

You may say I'm a dreamer

But I'm not the only one

I hope someday you'll join us

And the world will be as one…"

                "Imagine"…the words of a vision yielding dreamer, a relentless political activist, a flower power peace maker, and a poet who delicately wreathed our minds with astounding images of what the world could be if we could have seen it through his eyes.

With circular glasses rested on his nose, intense eyes and soft hair waving in the New York City breeze, John Lennon set in our minds his belief of possible universal love and peace. He wasn't a celebrity- "just a regular guy." He wasn't an intellectually drugged politician, but a protester for peace and a simpler life. The things he imagined were what millions of youth followed. When he spoke, the world listened whether they liked what they heard or not. When he died tragically on Dec. 8, 1980, those same millions cried alongside each other and his unforgettable memory. We live surrounded by his controversial words and peace chants. John Lennon left behind a timeless legacy that changed the world and has the potential to change it further.

                Songs, believed Lennon, were poems riddled with messages meant to change what people thought. The stunning lyrics of "Imagine" in their own elegance did just that. It described a life without a Heaven overhead, no Hell to tread upon, and a life of "no possessions" while "Sharing all the world." Lennon was a creative genius whose cunningness was never limited to his music alone. He became the quick-witted, sharp tongued voice for youth and anyone against the Vietnam War; constantly active in movements for peace, for freedom, and equality for women and blacks. The media was his outlet for a lot of his non-violent peace activism. The famous bed-ins with Yoko Ono were peaceful protests against war, in which Lennon and his new wife stayed in bed for seven days over the period of their honeymoon, much to the pleasure of the captivated reporters and photographers. The bed-ins were done to bring awareness to violence and senseless killings, to tell people that although peace couldn't bring back the lost lives, it could save those still living. Then, with little signs and gigantic billboards plastered throughout eight major cities around the world, John and Yoko told everyone that "War is Over (If You Want It)." They told us that it's up to us to do something about the things we dislike in the world; that war happens only when we let it.

                These visions weren't just for peace-chanting hippies. They were for people who understood what John and Yoko had to say, the ones who found intellect behind the spontaneity and unpredictable cover of a true rocker. They were the people who took condolence in their words when everything in society seemed wrong. Lennon claimed that people were the ones doing wrong in the world, and yet it was people who could right those wrongs. He left it up to us to make the changes we want. Maybe as individuals we don't have the canny literary ability of John Lennon, but we do have power in our own lives to do our part in contributing to change and spreading the love he wanted to see; the kind of love that runs deeper than infatuation. Love starts with one person, but in a moment it can impact a number of people; make them reconsider how selfishly they live their lives and maybe even change how they think. According to John Lennon, "All you need is love," and you could give food to a hungry child, shelter to a battered and abused woman, or a roof over the head of a homeless person. Love is the one power we have by nature that we take for granted.

                Though it won't save half a million lives or change as many, it'll make life for somebody a little brighter, the way John Lennon brought a smile to your face every time he struck the chords of your heart with "Imagine." Imagine what peace in your life would be like. "Imagine all the people," all colours and cultures, walking side by side without religion or social background taken into consideration. Imagine what good there is in people when the religions, possessions and adversities of life are stripped away and we stand together. Would racial slurs seem so empowering coming from the bully on the transit bus every day? Would war be such an apparent necessity for governments to fight? Should the excess words in religion really matter when in the end they all want what John Lennon wanted: love and peace for all people?

                He came to us out of the haze of Beatlemania to speak for peace. He protested for us and with us, and helped us see how we could change things if we want, believe and imagine. His path in life was one that started with deep pain and ended in the love and peace he wished upon the rest of the world. He left it up to us, and regardless of how and when we decide to change things, his spirit still marches on and on through the streets of New York City, watching over the family he loved and held so dear, and watching over the ones who believed in him the way he believed in a better way of living. He revealed the flaws of the world, led us into a glorious new beginning, and then left us to make up our minds as to whether we wanted the beautiful future his imagination offered. He lived for forty years, and it's been 31 years since that December day, but his legacy is eternal and will forever be with us, in heart, in mind, and in a dominating presence that could only be the controversial John Lennon. Because after all, all he was saying was "Give Peace a Chance."

***
As she does every year, his widow, Yoko Ono, will relight the peace tower today in honour of John.
John, the world misses you more than you know. Or maybe you do know and you're waiting on us to take the action you would have. To be just as brave.

 

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Update: Someday tough times will be a road bump

I know I'm not alone when I say that financially, we're looking down the frigid road of a long winter.  I never did like the season anyways.

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I'm enjoying my new job, don't get me wrong. I'll enjoy the weekends off so I can focus on writing and the fact that it's not such a stupid chaotic mess. It's simply housecleaning for other people; nothing too different from what I've done before. And I'm thankful to have a job. I know it's not easy these days to find a decent-paying job let alone one someone enjoys. It's strange that I've drifted from job to job like I have this year. Even stranger is getting fired from jobs. That's a first, too. I never used to do that. It used to be that no matter how aggravated I got with my job, I managed to stick out for a year or so before moving on. Then college happened and it seems like that patience with jobs I used to have is gone. I guess once you find something you're passionate for and suddenly it's gone, nothing else really adds up.

But that's slightly off topic. Or maybe I'm just on a rant today. In any case, toughing out the winter will give my fiancé and I time to sift through our options and decide what to do with that first restless wind of spring next year. Depending on how harsh or forgiving ancient winter decides to be, a change might be in order again. I adore my hometown but when the jobs aren't there, well, there isn't much one can do but move on. I came out here with a dream to become a full-time writer. In reality, that's been a dream no matter where I've been and I know that wherever I go, that will remain the dream. Perhaps it's not in location, but in ambition and sometimes taking the long road to get where you want to be. Or maybe it's just the touch of gypsy in me. I don't really know anymore. What I do know is if we get through this winter alright, then everything else will just fall into place for us, if it doesn't do so sooner.

Having said that, staying in one place for the winter as many gypsies tend to do, it will give me an opportunity to scout out perhaps where the best place is for us. It might end up being this town by the time spring comes around or the opportunity might arise elsewhere. No one really knows these things.

On the writing front, there isn't much to update- sales have slowed on "She Wasn't Allowed to Giggle." The price has been lowered on Smashwords from $2.99 to 99 cents and I'm looking into getting print copies done by the end of the year. I have the poems picked out for my next poem book "Memoirs of a Small Town Girl." I am not sure as of a release date for it as of now. I've hit a bit of a block with the "Spellbound" sequel as well. This fiasco with jobs has really driven my muses underground. It's time to drag them out from where they're hiding and put them to work. Getting caught up in everything else means losing sight of a dream and then the whole point of going through all this becomes…pointless. I won't let it become that.

So for the many of you out there also looking at a long, tough winter- you're not alone. But hang in there…tough times don't last forever. I learned that the hard way years ago. Compared to what my life was some years ago, this should be just one more bump in the road. And some day upon looking back when times are better, that's all it'll be.

 

 

Update: The first step is the longest one

Not counting what I've given to reviewers, I have sold four copies of "She Wasn't Allowed to Giggle."

It may not seem like much, but I am ecstatic. It is the first time I have made money from any of my own writing outside journalism. I don't think it's too bad of a start, considering poetry is hard sell in the writing market compared to fiction and non-fiction.

This self-publishing journey has had its highs and lows. There has been stress and there has been joy. I moved out here to the west coast to pursue a dream. And it is that dream that is still in the process of coming true. Making money from my writing was a part of that dream. The ultimate goal is to become a full-time writer. I'm still working on that one. But I can honestly say that for the first time, while it is still a far distance off, I am on my way, step by little step.

I released "She Wasn't Allowed to Giggle" on the same day as I got a rejection from the journalism job so that there was still at least a bright side to that day. Actually, it was my fiancé's idea and I'm glad I did it. I got over the rejection faster once the book sold the first two copies on its first day.

And being unemployed didn't even last long. As of last night, I got a job cleaning houses for a local company. I'll get more time off to spend on writing than I did cleaning hotel rooms, which is a huge bonus!!

As hard things sometimes get, there is always an upside and things come together at the right time. This makes me even more excited for the future. It is true- the dream is far from achieved, but it is a beginning. They say the first step is the longest one…the dream has begun. From here, it is simply continued.