Heidi Angell's Blog, page 42

Poetry Corner: A Song For You

I want to write  a song for you
flowing words that are so true
I want to find the words to say
I want you to be happy every day.

I want to find what's really best,
not just "Do what's right" like the rest.

I want you to know how I feel,
I wish I could make it real.

Do you love her oh so much?
Do you long for her tender touch?
Do you want to take her in your life?
Or is it for the child, you make her your wife?

Listen to me, please, I care
I want to save you from the bare
lonely times that lie ahead
if the two of you should wed.
Without love, you'll never make it.
You'll combine your lives and in the end break it.

But if she loves you as I do
and if you think you love her too
Then I'll write another song for you
A song to praise your hearts so true.

But if you can't, or if you won't
Then I suggest that you don't.
Do what's best for you both.
Don't ruin your lives with a noble oath.
A life without love will be  lonely and hard.
A sacred marriage will be terribly marred.

I want to write  a song for you
flowing words that are so true
I want to find the words to say
I want you to be happy every day.

I wrote this poem for friend who knocked a girl up. They hadn't been dating. They had just gotten together at a party. He was a really good friend and even at my young age, I knew how hard divorce was for the whole family. When he told me that they were getting married, I was horrified. I knew he didn't love her. I was pretty sure she didn't love him.

After I gave my friend this poem, I never heard or spoke with him again. I don't know how their relationship turned out.

On Being Happy- Cleaning

This is something I have been struggling with lately.  I feel like I am constantly struggling to balance everything. I know what I want, I know how I want things to be, I can see the happy life.... and yet, despite putting all these steps in place to get there I find myself... Not happy.

I am constantly feeling overwhelmed, like a failure, and cannot seem to get everyone on board. See, in my world of  "happy" I am trying to balance my job, career, family, husband, house, and living.  I have an obsessive need to plan. For there to be enough time to achieve everything, everyone has to pitch in. And they don't. And then I get overwhelmed. I am going to be running some posts on finding this happiness. Today, we are going to talk about finding happiness around one of the most obvious problems: Cleaning.


There are all these cutsey quips online about a messy house is a happy house, and other ridiculous nonsense like this:


And so my children are right, I am a horrible mom because I cannot live like this. And it is not just because I am neurotic about wanting a clean house. I literally get sick if my house is dirty. I am allergic to dust. I cannot breathe when my carpets aren't vacuumed regularly. But everyone else in my house is just fine with the mess, unless they are busy yelling and blaming each other.

And my house is never clean, and I am not happy.

And when momma ain't happy, ain't nobody happy.

I have tried to back off. I have tried the tackle-it- all myself approach, but it just makes me more mad because there are a million other things I would rather be doing than cleaning house. I don't enjoy cleaning house (I envy those who say that they do.) But it is something that needs to be done. There is a reason they call it a chore. But in my house everyone seems to think I have unreasonable standards. I have tried paying for chores, I have tried no fun til chores are done, I have tried "family cleaning time" which just turns into family fighting time. I have tried everything there is to try. I have explained the importance of cleaning, that I can't do it all myself, that I need everyone to contribute. And I will get a bit of compliance for a time.... and then no one wants to do their part.

How do I survive when I am the only one in the house that needs it clean? How do you find the way to being happy living in mess and unable to breath?

Am I just neurotic? Are my problems breathing all in my head? Or should I focus on cleaning and let go of the other things I want, because being healthy is an important part of being happy. I can't be healthy in a dirty house. Let other stuff go.

This is going to be a long saga of trying to find a way to be happy. Solving each problem in turn, I hope will allow me to achieve my end results.

Would love your thoughts on this struggle. Feel free to comment below.

Poetry Corner: Was it a Midlife Crisis?

Life is a ribbon
Artwork courtesy of Graphicstockthat threads on and on.
Some parts are fine silk,
and some are torn.

There are jewels in the garden,
with which to adorn.
But sometimes our ribbons
get bunched and get scrunched.
Sometimes they wrap 'round us
and pull us down.

Down into inky black despair.
You're alone and empty,
have nowhere to go.
You just want to lie down and die.

But that is never an option.
You must keep living
and going on
and eventually
You will have to stand up.

Stand back up and face the world again.
So what are you waiting for?
Just do it


Yeah, not sure when I wrote this, or what inspired it. It wasn't for a class assignment, I am fairly certain. I am guessing it was during a very difficult time in my life. Probably either High school graduation, or when I was trying to determine what to pick as a major when I realized I wouldn't make a living as an actor.... So I decided to become an author... go figure.  At least I got a great degree that gave me lots of job options as well as helping me with my career.

Since I wrote this poem, I have gone through a lot of ups and downs in my life. Some have been so hard that I didn't think I could keep going on. Some have been so painful that I thought it would be easier to just curl up and die. And here I still am, pushing for what I want, fighting for my dreams.

Poetry Corner: Deceived

Starry Night o'er a sleepy town.
The day is done, the sun gone down.

Stars twinkle in the night,
but not every night is right.

Horror sneaks about in this town,
with the peaceful stars shining softly down.

What horror could stalk on this pleasant night?
The twisted brain of a man not quite right.






This was another creative writing class project. We were asked to write a poem related to Van Gogh's Starry Night. I have to be honest, when I was young I thought Van Gogh must have been on drugs and it kept me from trying drugs (true story.) As I got older, I began to wonder what the world saw in this artist. (I still wonder). Now I look at his art and I wonder if he was on drugs, if he had something different with his brain that led him to see the world this way, or if he was just REALLY good at snowing the public of his time into considering him a great artist and somehow that misconception stuck.  I know third graders who can create better artwork. If I posted one of Van Gogh's less known pieces of art as a cover, I would get tons of well-meaning advice suggesting that I "hire a professional" to re-work my cover.

Thinking of Van Gogh makes me wonder about some indie authors who have had success with books that I considered poorly written, badly edited, or just straight up ripped off from other authors. At least Van Gogh was original.  And that makes me wonder about the masses who flocked to these unnamed books. Are they on drugs? Is there something different about their brains? Did these authors find a magical way to fool the masses into believing these books were great art? Will that misconception stand the test of time?

Or maybe my brain is the one that is off.
I digress...

Update on the Homefront

Things are about to get very exciting. I have in my hands Lynette White's Enemy Unmasked, and am beginning edits tonight! She is releasing in July so I will have my hands full getting her to market in time. But I am excited for the challenge.

I am also going to be gearing up to edit Hell School: Fresh Meat for a September release, as I don't want to be rushed between Lynette's release and my own.

I also have the sequel for The Hunters demanding to be put to paper. It has started haunting my dreams so I best stop ignoring that.

What does all this mean for my lovely readers?

Well, you will probably be seeing more posts about editing... and less book reviews. I am bummed too, believe me. But at the same time, it is refreshing to get back to editing!

You will also be seeing a lot more of my poetry posts as they are quicker and easier, given the important stuff is already written.

If you need me, please be patient. Things are going to be a bit crazy busy around here!

Poetry Corner: Wedding in White

When I dream at night
I dream of a wedding in white.
When I work through the day,
I keep that dream with me to stay.

When I say white, I don't just mean the dress.
I want my husband and me wrapped in cleanliness.
Full of chastity and sparkling pure
Brimming with innocence, yet sure.

To be a virgin is, to me
more than just vocabulary.
I don't just say I will, I do it.
In all I do, I try to prove it.

Artwork courtesy of Graphicstock
A sacred marriage that will last more than life.
When my husband will take me and make me his wife.
My purity is worth so much more
than to give it up young and lose what's in store.

So why be a virgin?Why should I care?
Why won't I do all that I dare?
Why won't I leave life while I'm young.
Kick up my heals at wickedness unsung.

Because I know that pleasure's not all,
that life is more than just having a ball.
I know that through Christ, marriage is forever
and I'll not risk losing that joy, no never.




I wrote this my senior year of high school. I feel so jaded looking back at this. My life didn't play out the way I dreamed it would back then. I made some stupid mistakes, some bad choices. My husband did too, before we met. We've paid for those mistakes over and over again. But we love each other. We've worked through the mistakes we have made together, and we have worked hard to build a life together. We are still paying for some of those mistakes, but we take responsibility for what we did.

Reading this makes me want to cry. How different our lives could have been if we had been like this when we had met. But then part of me knows that he wasn't raised with this expectation of life. If I had stayed on that path, we never would have gotten together.

Writer's Corner: Why do I Write?

This is something I have been debating lately and it is kind of a long debate. Because there are many facets to this question. The first, and most obvious, is the very literal question at hand, and the answer is fairly simple. I write because I have all these ideas that bounce around inside of me, desperate to get free and if I do not write them down I truly believe that they would drive me mad. It is cathartic, it is a release. The thrill of creating something without the morning sickness that plagued me all through my pregnancy.

The next deeper version of the question would be why do I write and publish? This becomes a bit more complicated. I think it comes down to the old adage, if a tree falls in the woods, and no one is there to hear it, does it really make a sound? I put so much energy into creating this remarkable world, and extraordinary characters (at least to me) of course I want to share it with everyone I meet. Much like I want to share great books I read, movies I have seen, etc. I am not content just to create, I need it out there in the world.

Which leads to the last question I must ask. Why do I spend hours each week working on writing, promotion, spend money advertising, and pushing to be seen and known as a writer? It certainly isn't for the money (I know,I just did my taxes for the third year in a row and my writing "hobby" costs more than any of my husband's hobbies.)If it is for vanity, that is a fail as well. Yes, I have enjoyed some great reviews, but I still wallow in anonymity.  I am pushing the boulder up hill with no idea how far I still have to go to reach the mountain peak.

 And yet, I still manage to convince my family to bear with me on this crazy ride, pushing for more money for marketing, wondering if I can hire a publicist, should I hire a marketing professional, how can I afford to go on tour, and a dozen other thoughts on promotion that aren't practical given how little I am selling.

Which again leads me back to the question: Why do I write? Why do I keep fighting this uphill battle? Why do I keep taking 15-20 hours a week away from my family, chores, health and life? Why do I keep "investing" (yes, I use this term ironically) money into these projects? What is my ultimate goal?

Well, my ultimate goal is to write. I write to be read. Is everything else worth it? That is still up for debate.

Poetry Corner: Balance

Life and tragedy
Image Courtesy of Graphic Stockfor those who think,
is more like comedy
on the brink.

Feeling is pain
and thinking is lonely.
I stand in the rain
and ponder it slowly.

We should listen to Socrates;
find balance in life.
It will give us more easy
and a lot less strife.







Ever been so overwhelmed that you had to laugh to keep from crying? Yeah, me too. A lot. Did you know scientific studies show that those who think more are less likely to be happy? Ah, to have the simple life. Even as a teenager I thought too much. Even as a teenager I struggled with finding balance. Life would be easier if I stopped thinking so much and just accepted things the way they are. I have never found balance. All that wisdom wasted.

Writer's Corner: Where's my Zombie?.

I have a small confession... One I am ashamed to admit. I am done with Zombies.


What?!?! I know, right. Me, who raised her children with the threat "If you did that in a Zombie Apocalypse, you would be dead." Me, who before it was cool to like zombies, often day dreamed of a Zombie Apocalypse. Me, who has written three different versions of a book about a Zombie-like apocalypse, who owns Zombie flux, Zombie munchkin and loves watching her husband play DayZ.

And even now, if there is a Zombie movie or TV show, I feel a compulsive need to watch it. But lately I have been disappointed.

And I don't know that it is solely because Zombies have been "overdone". I think it is because it has been so overdone that people are taking liberties with the concept of Zombies.

First there was 28 Days Later. Arguably one of my favorite Zombie movies, because it was the first time I found Zombies scary. Before that (another secret confession) I enjoyed Zombie movies because it basically gave me permission to enjoy killing masses of stupid people... er, I mean Zombies ;)


Then there was the Resident Evil movies that I thoroughly enjoyed, even though the "infection" crossed the species barrier and we needed to kill animals. (I know, PETA would love me! Ok with killing people, but not animals... but I digress.) It at least had a sound basis in the fact that the virus was man-made and manipulated to cross the species barrier.

Then there was My Boyfriend's Back, Shawn of the Dead, and Fido all turning Zombies into an intentional comedy with still blood and gore and stupid people dying but at the same time stupid people living... and that kind of annoyed me. Yes, I know looking back at George Ramiro's work it was kind of bound to happen, but he wasn't trying to make it funny. It just so happened that there were funny things in it.

Then came Walking Dead (and to be fair, I have watched every episode and will continue to do so until they kill Daryl.) When did the concept of Zombies become more about the survivors than the Zombies? It was an interesting and refreshing view.... for about a minute. Now I am just wondering how some of these people have survived this long. Seriously, the whole joy of Zombie movies was watching the stupid people die. I did get perverse pleasure in seeing Rick cap the wife beater, but wouldn't it have been more amusing to watch him eaten by a female zombie?


Then there was Warm Bodies where a Zombie becomes a romantic interest and regains his humanity...

Now there is a new series: I Zombie, about a young doctor, turned Zombie, who becomes a coroner's assistant so she can eat the brains of already dead people. But she is virtually normal as long as she
can maintain eating human brains.... she is even, dare I say it, sexy in a goth/ emo kind of way.




It feels like the destruction of Vampires. Taking what is supposed to be a warning to society, (Take your pick: stop being a part of the stupid masses, or people will want to kill you, Beware the stupid masses destroying your ability to think for yourself. Stay out of graveyards, whatever message you want to take as a warning.) and turning our monsters into sexualized "hip" cannon fodder to pull in the masses.

and yet, I still feel drawn. I have become a Zombie.

Poetry Corner: Rocks. Tonic. Juice. Magic.

Image Courtesy of GraphicstockI see the rocks below,
the tonic heals my soul.
The juice of Life makes me whole.
It's magic.










This was another one for class. We drew four random words from a hat and had to make a poem around them. The title is the four words. Think how many ways this could / would have gone if any other 17 year old got a hold of those words!! I had a unique view even back then.