Month: April 2014

Warped Reflections

water ripples photo: Ripples water1.jpg

The Past needs to stay there, they say.

Romanticized memories, made so by glass-half-full optimism and naivety. Or was it self-preservation? I suppose it was.

Is.

Blips from long ago, like jagged stone, tumbled and molded by the river of life. Transformed into smooth, round rocks that glow burnt orange and mustard yellow under the shimmery surface. I’m mesmerized by their simplicity. Content.

I take one out of the water to inspect it further. See it for what it really is.

It’s ugly, jagged stone.

I recoil and throw it back in the water where it can beautiful again. Clean. Harmless.

After the stone breaks the surface, ripples continue as far as I can see. This gives me clarity.

I understand now why the past is still here.

Ripples.

I don’t blame her. But I do.

I hate her. But I don’t.

I resent her. Yet I try to have perspective.

I lean over the bank to see my reflection.

But too often, it’s hers that stares back at me.

The horror.

The beauty.

 

Do you find silver-linings in things that don’t deserve them? Do parts of your past still ripple into the present? Have you ever seen yourself in someone you don’t like? Share your thoughts, I’d love to hear them.  

 

 

9 Signs You Might Be A MILF

I’m sure you all know Marcia of Menopausal Mother, right? I thought so. I mean, who doesn’t?? You’ve probably asked yourself, when is she going to put all her crazy-hilarious stories together in a book? I’m thrilled to announce that she did! Just for us!

COMING SOON: July 2014!

Will be available in eBook and print!

Dying to know more?

Can’t wait to see the cover and blurb?

THIS IS YOUR LUCKY DAY!

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The Stranger

TAMARA’S IN THE HOUSE!!!

I couldn’t be more thrilled to have the intensely-creative writer/poet, Tamara Woods, over to play today. I just got her book of poetry, The Shaping Of An “Angry” Black Woman, and am blown away by its complexity. I think you, dear readers-o-mine, will approve of the subject she’s chosen to share with you here, AND the best part is revealed through video because she freakin’ rocks like that! Without further ado, here’s a little taste of Tamara.

 

When I was growing up, I tried to picture who my perfect man would be. Talk, dark and handsome? A culinary wizard who also paints and likes to watch football? A cross between Jordan Knight, Christian Slater (circa Pump Up the Volume mixed with a bit of Heathers) and Johnny Depp (circa Benny and Joon)?

As I grew older, I realized I’m attracted to the misfit toys. This extends to friendships as well as lovers. I want the ones who are a little left of center. Not necessarily fixer uppers, because I don’t think they’re broken. I think they’re different, which makes them special. If I wanted normal, I’d turn on my dryer and have a seat. (This is going to a weird place. Let’s bring it on back.)

I’m also drawn to mystery. The unknown. If he’s got a brain like a puzzle, then I’m going to try to figure him out. What is his motivation? My current boyfriend, or as I like to call him, The Mathemagician is a man of few words. But when he speaks, I’m either laughing or learning-a heady combination for me. Going into year four, I’m still wondering where he comes up with this stuff. Utterly fascinating.

Back in my foot loose and slutty freed days, my roving eye would unerringly find that stranger across the crowded bar who wasn’t talking to anyone. He’s the one I’m going to sidle up to and give the sexy eye.–Though I’m not really good at being sexy, so it would more likely me doing a parody of the sexy eye, which looks like I’m having a twitchy fit. I rely on humor to bring the boys to the yard. They have to get their own milkshakes. I’m not Betty fucking Crocker.–

Anyway, what was I saying?

Oh yes, mystery. Intrigue. The guy who is smoldering in a corner, not really speaking. He clearly has something on his mind. And I want that something to be me.

Here’s a poem about meeting that perfect stranger.

Tamara Woods was raised (fairly happily) in West Virginia, where she began writing poetry at the age of 12. Her first poetry collection is available at http://amzn.to/1kti3r0.  She has previous experience as a newspaper journalist, an event organizer, volunteer with AmeriCorps and VISTA, in addition to work with people with disabilities. She has used her writing background to capture emotions and moments in time for anthologies such as Empirical Magazine, her blog PenPaperPad and writing articles as a full-time freelance writer. She is a hillbilly hermit in Honolulu living with her Mathemagician.

You can stalk her in a non-creepy totally internet way here:

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You Know You Want It

I bet you woke up this morning and thought, damn – I really want to know more about Beth’s writing. Come on…you know you did. Don’t deny yourself the pleasure (unless you’re into that sort of thing).

My fellow blogger buddy and published author, Deanna Herrmann, was gracious enough to choose me next in line for the My Writing Process Blog Tour. If you don’t know her….where the hell have you been? She’s a KICK-ASS writer with a dark and twisted edge that I can’t get enough of. You know I love me some dark and twisted.

Thanks to her, you get a backstage pass into my writerly world today. *waves you through the secret door* Come on back. Help yourself to a drink while you peruse my inner workings. Don’t touch the oils…that’s for later. If you behave yourself. *wink-wink*

 

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