Worlds and Realms

I dream of worlds

And dwell in realms

Of colours and magics

It leaves my thoughts manic.

 

I cast spells in letters

Catch minds with nets

Fashioned from phrases

Left on white page.

 

My fingers dance across keys

and tell tales of many veils

Pulled back and explored

More stories to adore.

 

My love is writing

And it strikes like lightning

Providing new sightings

That I hope are inviting.

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Anxious Honesty

The voice in my head is telling me I’ve wasted two years on a dream that will never come true. I had a book idea and I ran with it. I didn’t fight hard enough for it though.

More and more, my husband seems to get mad that I’m not working on my book. That I’m not bringing in any money. That I’m just ‘lounging’ around the house.

It doesn’t matter that I clean the house top to bottom by myself. I weed the gardens and mow the lawn and whippersnip, by myself. I feed the cats and dogs day and night by myself. I do the laundry, by myself. I make the appointments for both of us. Keep a running list of things. Try to be the voice of reason more often than not. (I will admit he helps on occasion, but not near enough…)

I wish I was bringing in money. I wish I had fought harder for my book. It feels like the only choice is to abandon it entirely. It’s not what I want, but I always put everyone else ahead of me.

But then that leaves me with a blog and a twitter account that serve no real purpose anymore, right?

So, I’ve applied to part-time jobs in the mean time. I’ve started freelance transcribing again for Rev. I’ve created a Ko-Fi account in hopes of some additional help so that I can keep writing.

I want to keep writing, I really do, but this voice tells me there’s no point anymore. If I was really passionate about it, I’d be somewhere other than editing, right?

Anyways, that’s the end, (I think), of my self-pitying post. I had to say it before it ate me alive though I still think it might.

 

https://ko-fi.com/kemwriting is the link to donate to my creative path. I’m sure after a decent cry, I’ll be up to fighting again…

Traitor

I have betrayed myself

Again.

Forsaken my goals

Again.

Keep writing, my heart whispers

Onward, evermore.

Achieve the dream of your soul

Onward, evermore.

 

Yet doubt like vines grasp my mind

Crippling will.

Holds my fingers still on the keyboard

Crippling will.

 

The light comes out another day

I will wait.

Fights my darkness from all sides

I will wait.

Savagery’s Cost

Blood fed the barren ground

Bodies decorated it

Like discarded toys.

Swords pierced the Earth

Beside the crippled, lifeless corpses

And yet

There was a Beauty in this Darkness

In the Savagery of War.

Life fled this land

Once rife with the green blades of Grass

Replaced now by blades of Iron and Steel.

For what, they ask

The Glory of Battle, the Honour it gave.

No structures of stone or wood

Stood in sight of the horizon.

A vast Nothingness claimed these lives

And Nature would take its Victims.

Limbs bared to Bones, sinking in dirt.

Rust from fruitless rains would claim the soiled metal.

The Shadows of carrion birds’ wings filled the sky

Their caws shredded the Silence, deafening.

Beaks ripped at stripped Flesh

As the Sun set, its rays of Light frightened by the field.

It seems a Horrible Dream.

An Evil that Desecrates the Human Soul.

Wars are waged, the Cost ignored.

 

 

 

 

Writing Schedule: My Attempt

After some hard googling, looking at examples, and a firm talk to myself…. I think I have created a workable writing schedule for myself! It will probably adapt as I figure out what works best for me, but this is a good starting point.

Here is what it looks like:

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I have four hours of solid writing time, three hours reading, two hours exercise including rest and snack, and one hour TV watching. I’ve built in relax time too (which is usually TV watching, too, but can be doing stuff around the house).

Since we spent the weekend away with Andrew’s family, I didn’t start this Monday or even today. I am going to push myself to abandon my dream land and get a start on the day bright and early. It may seem like 4am is a very early time (it fricken is), but it will help my husband get to work earlier. That will help us both out.

Realistically, if I get bit by the writing bug and NEED to keep writing (known to happen), I will do so. If I wake up at 2:30am needing to work on my book (has happened, too) then I will do so. My writing and reading trump (almost) everything else and will be given priority.

However since I have been having issues incorporating both into my day to day life, this should force me into high gear on both. It will also give me things to write about for my blog since I plan on focusing on writing and reading on here, too. (Other topics may be touched upon now and then, but not weekly).

Wish me luck, followers!

Sleeping Reality

Sleep is a sweet treat

Filled with delicious dreams

Sinking deep into my mind.

I tape over those pesky seams

 

The ones dividing me

From reality.

They are fantastical paths

Winding stairways so free.

 

I want to walk them all

Every oddball scheme

Every horrid thought

See the information I glean

On me.

 

Dreams are mirrors

Absorbing our image

Distorting, contorting it

Like a puppet almost finished.

 

I snooze the alarm clock

Again, again, again

Dodge the waking hour

For the dreaming one’s my domain.

 

Awake at last, it feels

When eyelids close

And darkness bows.

 

 

August 2017

It was a big day
But in a little way.
The end of my two weeks
Which was less than bleak.
I left that job
Feeling more than just a glob.
Unsure of what lay ahead
Yet I was not filled with dread.
Instead I felt hope anew
My footsteps led me far and true.
I stumbled upon my purpose,
And it was time to get down to business.
 
I had had a dream,
Filled with danger and fun.
I told my husband, my mother,
And they were quite stunned.
It spun into an idea
A book written by me,
In which a girl named Vivian
Fought hard just to be free.
 
I am still on that adventure,
Editting, revising Vivian’s tale.
It consumed me through and through,
And I refuse to fail.