Beth Bishop's Blog, page 5

For DS

There once was a girl who loved Jack,
tightly wrapped in a brown paper sack.
She’d unscrew his top
and then drink till she’d drop
’cause she swore that she’d never look back.

Decartes

It’s painful to care about someone who doesn’t acknowledge your existence unless you’re in the same room together. Mariposa was the first person I ever met with this ability. I have always wondered if she is this way because her mind is so full of other things – worries, school, work, her lover, herself – that she has no room for anyone else, or if deep inside her, she believes that no one really exists unless she thought of them. She is the creator. She could bring me into the world or remov...

End of an Era

My publisher went belly up. I have taken down links to purchasing my books until I figure out what, if anything, I will do with them. Gosh, things were just fine for me when the owner two owners back was in charge. She always did right by me. The second owner tried to do right by everyone, and that and some crooks that worked for him torpedoed the company. The last person in charge, I think, was just to try to save something of a shred. I had 5 books published under the first owner, and in th...

Update

Until very recently, I have not had much time to write. I had to re-read several of my books to get back into the feel and voice of some of the characters. Since I had that chance, I have now written about 8k words on the final book in the Camellia series.  Two of the major conflicts are resolved, and the end is nigh!

I know that, after this book, I won’t write anymore books with Camellia as the main character. However, I might write about someone else in her universe. Before that happens, I...

We Are Not Walking Pussy-Tit Dolls

By now, I’m sure everyone has heard about writer Kelly Oxford’s tweet requesting that women share the stories of their first sexual assaults. If not, you can read about it here. She posted this tweet on the evening of October 7th:

Women: tweet me your first assaults. they aren’t just stats. I’ll go first: Old man on city bus grabs my “pussy” and smiles at me, I’m 12.

By about the same time the next day, she had accumulated over 9,000,000 tweets from women sharing their stories. I tweeted my s...

You thought my fear of bridges as ridiculous as my fear o...

You thought my fear of bridges as ridiculous as my fear of tunnels.How else could we cross relatively small bodies of water,you asked me.So as we drove the ugly trough of white concrete that bulged above the Choctawhatchee Bay, I stared straight ahead to the shore and focused on singing along with Sheryl Crow.

I never remember much about driving to Florida, but I remember that bay, that bridge, and the Tom Thumb at the crossroads.

You said you loved my voice, loved to hear me sing, and that I...

The thing is, he never has been okay. See here: Like too ...

The thing is, he never has been okay.

See here:

Like too many ice-coated mozzarella sticks dunked into the fryer,

Everything outside flashes to steam,

Bubbling up, catching fire, and burning anyone nearby,

Triggering angry red whelps and blisters and curses,

All of which will leave permanent marks,

And the instantly-molten inside bursts free,

Contaminating the oil and leaving nothing

But a golden brown husk.

The thing is,he never has beenokay. See here: Like too ma...

The thing is,he never has beenokay.

See here:

Like too many ice-coated mozzarella sticks dunked into the fryer,

Everything outside flashes to steam,

Bubbling up, catching fire, and burning anyone nearby,

Triggeringangry red whelps and blisters and curses,

All of which will leave permanent marks,

And the instantly-molten inside bursts free,

Contaminating the oil and leaving nothing

But a golden brown husk.

New Inkshares Project

I’ve queried and pitched and pitched and queried. So, I’m trying something new.

I actually love this novel I’ve written, and I think you will too. Check out the summary and partial first chapter. If you like what you read, and you’d like to read more (and preferably the whole thing), please follow and pre-order. It can happen if I get enough support from those of you who like me and/or what I write. And, if it’s not your bag, baby, that’s cool too.

Here’s the link:SOUL SEARCHING

Thanks,

Beth

...

Dream 3/9/2016

I’m about 18 and dating a guy who is throwing a party. I’m supposed to sleep over, and my things are in one of the many rooms in his parents’ house. There is something locked in a chamber under the hardwood floor in the dining room. Everyone who walks through there gets bumped from underneath, but they all keep drinking and pretending they don’t feel it. I am on the roof watching the wind blow naked tree branches and wondering if I’ll be kissed at all. My boyfriend doesn’t kiss, but I wish he...