D.G. Kaye's Blog, page 187

Excerpt from Conflicted Hearts

Self-Analysis

 

I thought all the years I had allowed myself to take orders and be disciplined by guilt were my duty as a child: adherence to the code of respect.

 

 

On many nights I would sit on my couch in my peaceful apartment and ponder life, not so much where I was going but where I had come from. I was finally living in contentment, on my own, with no more fears or anxieties, for I had left those behind. I felt free. Now that I had peace of mind, I could clearly look back and assess my life, and things became so much more apparent when I could step out of the box and look in.

One night in particular, I was lying on the couch, listening to music. I often did this to relax and collect my thoughts, letting my mind take me where it might. I would also write little blurbs or poems about whatever was at the forefront of my mind at the time. That night, the subject, as was often the case, was my mother. I really began to dissect the events in my life starting from childhood. Because I was older now, I could piece together the answers to some of the questions that had riddled me as a child. It was as though I were reliving my life in my mind like it had happened to someone else.

The years of studying my mother began to make sense to me as I filled in the gaps in my knowledge with what I had learned over time. As a child, many things didn’t make sense to me, and some things I never even questioned. I grew to understand how well my mother had orchestrated her life, as well as mine. When I was younger, I had wanted to emulate her, to have her life—and who wouldn’t have wanted that? It was a grand life. We were sent to our grandparents’ home every weekend, and my mother came and went as she pleased. Nobody ever told her what to do or what not to do. She was so beautiful that men swooned over her, and she knew it, craved it, and used it. She was in such dire need of constant attention that she had to be in the limelight wherever she was. She had to have the best of everything so as to ensure that nobody else could outshine her. It was in her DNA. She used her beauty as a weapon.

To my father, my mother’s beauty was a drug. As I got older, I questioned why, for so many years, he would continually want to get back together with her. I just couldn’t fathom what he was getting out of it, as from where I stood, all he got was heartache. I can’t even recall my mother ever showing affection toward my father. He gave her everything she wanted, but she didn’t want him. She had lured him in with her beauty, and I was a premeditated way to get my father to marry her. I could understand that my mother had been poor as a child and that my dad, who came from a financially stable family, had to have been quite appealing for a young, struggling, beautiful girl. He was an opportunity for her to make a good life for herself, and his soft-spoken, meek nature coupled with his attraction to her beauty made pursuing her irresistible to him.

My mother had a knack for expanding the truth and making things appear much more grandiose than they really were. She also had a knack for creating stories and living as though they were actual truths, never backing down from her beliefs. Delusional and narcissistic, she lived in her own denial and expected everyone to believe her. Those who knew the truth never dared call her out on anything, except perhaps my Aunty Sherry. I had grown to understand that the facade my mother put on display actually stemmed from her deep-seated insecurities. I think her unhappy childhood, which she never spoke of, made her determined to make a good life for herself, and nobody was going to get in her way. She came from nothing, with just the gift of beauty, and she very calculatingly used that to her full advantage.

I could never understand why my mother wouldn’t admit that I had been conceived out of wedlock. It was as though the truth could have tarnished her reputation, a reputation she had made up for herself. I had questioned my father for years about why the math didn’t add up, but he always gave me the same answer: He would chuckle and say, “Go ask your mother.” I could see right through it, as I knew my father so well, but he knew whom he would have to answer to if he told me. When I did ask my mother, the answer was just too far-fetched for me to believe, even as a child. Her story was and remained the same throughout my entire life: My parents were actually married a year before their registered anniversary date. According to her, they were so in love that they had a secret wedding before the real wedding, which was two months after my conception. I still laugh at this fantastic story. I confirmed several times over that this was bullshit, but my mother stuck to her story even after the truth was uncovered. That was just who she was.

 

 

On A Personal Note…

It has been a bit quiet over here this past week or so, as I have been up to my ears in preparation for my book Conflicted Hearts, launch. I haven’t really been mentioning it much because I have been so frazzled with obstacles, which has caused a slight delay in my anticipated publication day.

I presume every writer goes through their own ups and downs and believe me, when things were going wrong, I felt like running away many times and leaving my book to the dust collection. It also gave me time to become more critical of myself and begin to doubt my work and it took every effort for me to even want to visit my own blog site while I was in that state. But, I showed up! And I read all your lovely comments which gave me smiles, and all my encouraging emails and my mentor, great author, friend J. Thorn certainly went out of his way in his busy schedule to help me out.

While I am not going to go into details of my dilemmas, I just want to acknowledge you all and my many supporters who are constantly reminding me that they are eagerly anticipating the birth of my book. Yes! There is a book and my huge goal is to have it published before Christmas!

The journey has certainly been a wealth of learning and experience and I am so grateful for some of the leading pioneers in this industry for their guidance in so many ways, which they may not even realize. Again, I’d like to give mention to J.Thorn for mentoring me through this journey with its triumphs and bumps along the way.

For those of you who are not familiar with J.Thorn, he is one of our top Indie authors who writes in the dark fantasy/horror genre. I can honestly say if you are a Stephen King fan, you ought to be checking out the works of J.Thorn.

So with all of your kind words and support, I am beginning to feel that this wasn’t all for nothing.

Now that said, I hope you will all pass by here again later in the week, as I will proudly be posting the long promised, excerpt of my book! Thank you all!

P.S. I have a little request. Apparently I am not getting enough ‘likes’ on my author Facebook page, There is an option to ‘like’ me on the sidebar of my page but perhaps it is a little far down on the page that it gets overlooked. If you wouldn’t mind ‘liking’ me, facebook will open up some better visibility to my page.  Thanks again!

Top 25 Ways to Write an Awesome Book – Helping Writers Become Authors

Reblogged from K.M. Weiland’s blog, great reference points to keep in mind when writing.

Top 25 Ways to Write an Awesome BookShare this:Millions of words have been strung together on the subject of how to write an awesome book. A book is always going to be a tremendous undertaking that can feel more than a little complicated sometimes. But what if we could simplify the process to just twenty-five ingredients? Last summer, I wrote a post about the Top 25 Ways to Blow a Book

via Top 25 Ways to Write an Awesome Book – Helping Writers Become Authors.

Unfallen Snow

Photo by Kazlor

 

A sky full of snow,

Not yet fallen.

Held in a basket of clouds,

Waiting for release.

Cold winds whirl through air,

Our noses nipped by frost.

Words expelled,

With visible breath.

Pavement still black,

Not yet touched by winter’s tears.

Children bundled in layers,

In anticipation of winter’s playground.

It’s almost cold enough now,

For the clouds to release.

I Am Grateful For…

LET US GIVE THANKS FOR…

The every day things in life we have and do that are sometimes overlooked to be thankful for because we may just assume that they are a given – but essentially, they are blessings.

I am grateful for God’s graciousness just to allow me to wake up everyday.

I am grateful for the gift I have to be able to write and share in freedom.

I am grateful for ability to hear the beautiful lyrics and melody in a song.

I am grateful to watch children playing happily and flowers in bloom, both still unscathed by hardship.

I am grateful to be loved.

I am grateful for the freedoms to choose what I want to be and all that I have.

 

What are you grateful for?

The Seasons of Life Continue

Swirling leaves in air, encrusted in snow,

Gardens are frozen, as howling winds blow.

Autumn’s delight, a fragmented past,

Golden hues dissipate, into a season of last.

Summer’s light, now brings early dark,

Gone are the lyrics of the passing lark.

Now bundled up, some mittens lost,

No longer is green, a fade to frost.

 

Carnival of Indies

I am just thrilled and love to share that my blog post…How Did I Write My Memoir, was accepted by The Book Designer issue #38 of the publication and circulated Sunday, November 24th! For those of you who aren’t familiar with www.thebookdesigner.com , Joel Friedlander’s site is a wealth of information for writers. There are hundreds of articles you can sift through on his site to keep you up to date on the latest and greatest things on publishing from blogs to book cover designs and templates for formatting books. Truly one of our great gurus on self publishing.

This month’s issue has lots of articles on book marketing, informative blog posts from Indie authors and more, including writing tools and tips (which my blog is listed under). An up to date issue on what’s hot and going on in the Indie world of publishing.

Thank you Carnival of Indies for including my post in your publication!

Downtown, A different day and Memory Lane

Today was different. I have been so accustomed to working in my comfy writer space day after day as the days turn into weeks then months. I had an annual doctor appointment downtown and I decided to kill two birds with one stone and make an additional appointment while down there to see my Osteopath to try and put (me) Humpty back together again. My hips and lower back had been aching for days and somehow locked up on me, making it painful to sit or sleep or barely able to lift my foot into my underwear (tmi?). Anyhoo, going downtown for me is like a day visiting another city. My friends often joke that they need to bring their passports just to visit me. Yes, I live in suburbia! Don’t get me wrong, it’s lovely here and it’s like a whole other hustle and bustle city up here in the northern end of Toronto. There is everything here including traffic, only it’s not downtown, but my doctor is. So when I go downtown once or twice a year, I make a plan of things I need to get while there and plan my route accordingly.

Now, getting there is a journey in itself, Lordy, no I will not drive downtown! Somewhere through the years I have lost my brazen ability to drive far, on highways or at night. Besides the anxiety that strikes me on these jaunts, I’ve had lots of trouble with my vision over the past few years and I cannot read signs in unfamiliar territory or on fast-paced highways quick enough to avoid missing an exit…again, causing anxiety. I don’t drive at night unless I’m absolutely stuck being the designated driver when my husband and I go to a party and that is only if it doesn’t require highway driving as I have a problem with night vision due to some laser eye surgery I had years ago when I had pin holes lasered into my iris’ to alleviate pressure to stop me from going blind. TMI again? Sorry. Yes, so the halo effect occurs from the oncoming headlights and this is just not a good thing. So, I have my perimeters, So my plan for going downtown is as follows:  The subway is about a 40 minute drive from my house. My step-son-in-law works at a car dealership 5 minutes from the subwayI drive there and he drives me to the subway and takes my car back to the dealership and picks me back up when I’m heading back north. Sometimes I even have anxiety on subways! Perhaps I’ve watched too many movies and always seem to be leery if I spot someone unsavory looking. Maybe it’s even my imagination and maybe being a writer exaggerates these anxieties? Imagination serves me well as a writer but sometimes it can get a bit over-active. I don’t exactly know when I became like this because I never used to be afraid of a damn thing!  I like to blame it on…..do I dare say….middle age? And so, it’s another 25 minute ride downtown on the subway and a few blocks walk to my doctor’s office.

When I’m downtown, I always feel like I am somewhere else, like I am a tourist. Today happened to be fairly cold outside, minus 5 celcius and very windy and with all the buildings downtown, made it feel all the more windy. I finished my appointment fairly early and had decided that I wanted to pick up a few things that I can only get in a particular store down there and I debated with myself if I felt up to the long walk to get there. After being worked on for 2 hours by my Osteopath then taped up like a human mummy all around my hips, I decided to tackle the mission.  As I walked in the wind (against my face), bundled up good, I really enjoyed it. I walked about 5 subway stops and it felt so good to be outside and walking instead of on my ass in front of the computer. As I passed various landmarks (those that had meant something to me in my life), I began to reminisce about so many things in my life that had pertained to them. I passed the hospital where I had my heart surgery (tumor, not cardio), I passed the hotel where I worked as an executive secretary to the general manager for some years – some of my best years. I passed the many shops I’d wandered into on my lunch hours when I worked down there. It was almost as though I was revisiting my past and the memories evoked were all different -the hospital memories and the happy memories. A real trip down memory lane. After I hopped back on the subway and began writing this post,

My hips and back are killing me, it hurts to sit. Apparently I’m no longer allowed to sit on my comfy couch and work there on my laptop. I love it in my open family room to the kitchen with the TV on in the background. My doctor told me that my body had been sitting for so long this year that it tightened and jammed my hips. Now I have to work in my lonely office and sit in a proper chair when creating and surfing. Well, I will see how long that lasts! My husband is on me like a cop for this as he had heard me complaining about my aches and pains for so long. Hmm, I once wrote a post here on Do Writers Suffer Vanity? Now I am wondering if writers suffer injured hips, backs and bums?

 

Waiting for a Call: Love, Loss, and Continuing Bonds – Elaine Mansfield

Reblogged from www.ElaineMansfield.com

Elaine is a most compassionate person and a most beautiful writer. She shares her grief of the deep loss of her beloved husband in a lot of her writing and in her sharing she extends her compassion and strength. Her words are eloquently written and the messages she conveys in her writing are deeply moving. I couldn’t help but read this with tears in my eyes, yet at the same time take in her beautiful message.

Posted on November 19, 2013 by Elaine Mansfield

via Waiting for a Call: Love, Loss, and Continuing Bonds – Elaine Mansfield.

For Authors | That Part Where

THATPARTWHERE is a newer site for authors to promote their books. Quite a fascinating concept I find if you read through the rest of the article. They have taken a new approach to displaying books. As opposed to ‘The Blurb’ which normally is a short synopsis of a book, That Part Where, lets the author choose an excerpt from their book to display which in turn gives the reader a more in depth experience of what the book is about and perhaps captivates them to want to read more.

I discovered this site by reading about the interview with Benjamin Wallace on Molly Greene’s blog. Benjamin is with Monkey Paw Creative who has started That Part Where. You can read the full interview on Molly’s page. Below is the introduction to this service, to continue just click on the link at the end.

For Authors

We’d love to share your story on That Part Where.

Here’s how it works:

For $10 (beginning in December)

We post your scene

This includes a book description, cover, scene set-up, links to your book on Amazon and contact information for your website, Facebook and Twitter.

We share your post on our Facebook page

Hey. You should go like our Facebook page.

We create a custom ad based on your scene

You’ve seen them. They’re awesome. Yours will be awesome, too.

We’ll share the ad with you to help promote your post

You can use this wherever you want: website, Facebook, Twitter, Pinterest, print it out and put it on your mom’s fridge, etc…. (please get your mom’s permission first)

We’ll include the ad for your scene in our Google Adwords campaign for 30 days

We target avid readers and this ad will take them directly to your post on That Part Where.%

via For Authors | That Part Where.