Friday, July 29, 2011
It is impossible to under estimate the power of words. And yet we toss them around all day every day in print, on the Internet, in conversation, in self speech (that ongoing dialogue in your head) with hardly a thought about what we are saying.
Some of us have learned, through abuse, or through prayer or magic, through affirmations, or through the magic of children or pets, how powerful and important words really are – and we are more careful of what we say or write.
The power of words over our minds is both the blessing and the curse of being human.The power of words is why prayer works. The power of words is why affirmations work. The power of words is why spells work. The power of words is what abusers use to manipulate and abuse their victims. In the last couple of years, I have even seen social workers use the power of words to shame an applicant into accepting refusal of their justifiable claim.
If someone is told often enough that they are a failure, low class, stupid, ugly, no good, useless, worthless, of low morals, and likely to be criminal – those words become true. They become those things.
It is possible to chose not to let those words have power over your thoughts, but I can tell you from experience that it is extremely difficult to overcome that dialogue – especially if it was thrown at you by the people you would normally think of as those who should know and love you, like your parents and family, or people who should be mentors, like teachers and counselors. Your mind – a child’s mind – will internalize those words and every time a situation comes up in your life where you fail your mind will run that old tape of all those negative words that you believe to be true. Your mother said you were stupid, ugly, a failure - so of course you failed. It takes an immense and ever lasting ongoing effort of will to change that internal dialogue. Many people never overcome it – and so we have people raised by abusers who become failures, criminals, or addicts using drugs or alcohol to try and escape that infernal internal dialogue.
Some of us get lucky. We meet a person who does a double take when we spew those words about ourselves, and then tells us that is crazy. That we ARE beautiful, smart, and capable. Maybe it isn’t a person we meet, but a book we read such as Affirmations by Stuart Wilde, or Louise Hay’s books about changing your life. It could even be a DVD or movie like The Secret. You can laugh, but I point to The Rocky Horror Picture Show as the movie that changed my life. The repeated chorus of “Don’t Dream It, Be It” gave me the courage to look at my life, look at all of my “hopeless” dreams, and make the changes to take that from dream it to be it.
In my case, it was all of the above. It was The Rocky Horror Picture Show. It was a lover who one day said to me, “Baby, I don’t know who has been treating you – but they haven’t been treating you right.” It was an employer who became a friend who told me to help myself to her bookcase full of feminist and pagan literature.
You never know when the words that change someone’s life might come out of your mouth – or be written down in your article, blog, or story. If you want to change your own life – change your words, your thoughts will follow, and your life will change.
Don’t dream it, be it.
Wednesday, July 27, 2011
One evening he asked if there was ever a time when I would have been a submissive, rather than the dominant female that I am now. I believe at the time I told him “possibly”. But the question sank into that seething cauldron I call my brain and stewed for a few days.
Cutting Away the Pain crawled out of that stew in the middle of the night, full blown and ready to be written down. It’s sort of a “what if” biography. Both the submissive and the dominant in the story share a lot with me, personally. It’s almost as if the dominant I am now had been able to go back and “save me” when I was young and submissive and given me a nurturing environment to explore my desires and sexuality.
Do you ever look back at your life and wonder – “what if” – at a particular point something very different had happened, what sort of a major turning point it would have been and how it might have made such a major difference in who you became?
I bet that would make a great story. Maybe you ought to let it stew in your brain for a few days – then share it with the world.
You can purchase Cutting Away the Pain for Kindle for 99 cents
Tuesday, July 19, 2011
Tomorrow, it is back to "real" writing and promoting books - I have a great announcement so be here!
Thursday, July 14, 2011
Wednesday, July 13, 2011
When I finally sat down to my email this evening I was totally stunned.
First, to be informed that I am now officially a Zazzle ProSeller! I squeaked so loud my husband came trotting into the studio, expecting to see me being chased around the room by one of our monster roaches (they freak me out) - instead I was doing the Happy Dance.
A few minutes later I was so Gobsmacked by This Award;
To read the full review go
to: Education Site Review
for Color-Your-Own.com and the review that came with it at My Boarding School.com Blog that I could only sit here with my jaw on the floor. The blogger makes me sound like I have a double PhD in education and art, and sent a very kind and complimentary email as well.
I have no words for how I feel right now. (Hubby laughed and said "some writer you are")
Thank you to everyone - everyone who reads my blogs, uses my products, uses the coloring pages - it is you I create for and it is you who deserves the credit for these awards. Without you, no one would know me.
Tuesday, July 12, 2011
In one of my favorite daydreams I am the hostess of a feast. All my dearly beloved friends and lovers are there at the table to meet each other and enjoy their company and mine. The table groans with delicious dishes and there’s a full bar against the wall where I mix everyone’s favorite drinks. It’s my fantasy, so people I’ve lost contact with are still there. Everyone gets along, too, even people I know probably couldn’t stand each other in real life.
In this world, there are empty chairs at the table. Diane, killed by a hit and run driver as she walked home from work. He apparently did stop long enough to jump out and steal her purse full of cash, so we have always thought it was someone who knew who she was – a dancer – if not a personal friend. Madonna, beaten to death by her husband outside her hotel room – she was trying to leave him – beside a busy street. No one stopped or even called the police. Vegas – stabbed over 20 times in the back by her mentally ill male roommate who claimed it was self-defense. He was six-one, she was under five feet tall and weaponless, walking out the door. Becky – who killed herself in despair after her boyfriend left her, knowing she could not go home to her extreme Christian family who had disowned her for dating a black man and becoming a dancer. Rachel – who also killed herself after years with an abusive man. My husband’s stepfather’s chair is empty. He died of an infection, after Medicare decided he didn’t need the shots his doctor prescribed that would help prevent infection during chemotherapy.
Maybe someday, in Summerland, I can hold this feast and all these empty chairs will be filled. The empty chairs then will be for the friends who are still here in this life, living and loving, laughing and learning, and we can all peek into their lives and smile – knowing the time will come when they will join the feast full of memories and stories to share.
Monday, July 11, 2011
I read and enjoy werewolf and vampire romances disguised as thrillers or mysteries with spunky little heroines who are as distressed by a broken fingernail or fashion faux pas as they are by an evil vampire attacking. They’re fun. They are what I refer to as “fluff bunny fare”.
But they are not what I write. And they are not even most of what I read. I prefer the dark, gritty, realism of true crime, dark thrillers, books where the monsters are really monsters, not cuddly, or sexy but deadly and yes, out to eat you My Pretty.
I know there are plenty of real monsters in the real world – and they are outwardly perfectly human. The guy next door who gives teen boys their first job and plays the clown for children’s birthday parties. The mother who is a society climber and charity worker outside, and the facilitator who actively allows her husband to rape their daughter daily and who tells her daughter it is her fault and no one will believe her if she tells.
My heroes and heroines are damaged, troubled, survivors who are frightened by the real monsters they face today, as well as the monsters who did their best to break them in the past. They have their doubts. They know that it would be so much easier to be a monster. To give in to their darkest desires. To fall into the abyss of evil. When my heroine looks in the mirror or hears something familiar come out of her mouth and thinks “I am becoming my mother” it is with a depth of horror someone from a nice, if a bit neurotic, family can hardly imagine.
The triumph of the human spirit and compassion and love in everyday people who have proven strong enough to survive the worst the human monsters have to dish out is the victory that makes me proud. The faith, the sure knowledge that in the real world we can face the monsters and win. Whether they are within, or without. That is what gives me hope for this world. That is my feel good literature.