Fiction Friday, Memoir and Reflections, TGIF, Writing

After the Scars

All Twitter wars aside (planned or not), Taylor Swift sure can come up with some poignant and universal lyrics about love and relationships:

“It’ll leave you breathless or with a nasty scar.”

It’s either one or the other, usually in that order.

The above song lyric about what it feels like to fall, be, or survive the pitfalls of love are all I was hoping to say when I wrote

One Last Kiss.

I am used to scars. I have had them since I was twelve years of age, and I would go on accumulating scar after scar through my teenage years.

These were physical scars. They were unwanted and yet I began to collect them with pride because they were real representations of the medical traumas I had suffered and survived. Every one of those times I went under anesthetic and awoke to recover once more I was proud of that fact.

It’s handy when a scar can be kept secret under clothing. As I took on more and more surgical scars, this became harder and harder to accomplish.

Soon the teenager in me became much too self-aware and I never would have considered wearing a bikini, which would have meant I would have had no other choice but to show off my abdominal scars.

Sure, I say I was proud, but I still couldn’t do it. I’d heard too much about the lengths people went to hide their scars, including more surgeries. This always seemed ridiculous to me.

I couldn’t hide the long scar I had running up the centre of my back either. I couldn’t hide any of them really, so why bother?

It became an exercise in futility, both exhausting and fruitless.

Physical scars are permanent reminders of my medical history, but I would soon start picking up scars of a different kind, along the way to adulthood.

It’s these emotional and psychological scars, invisible no matter what I might be wearing, that I keep taking on as the years come and go. They are much easier to hide in plain sight, but they heal much slower, feeling like they could split wide open at any moment.

It’s these scars I found it impossible not to use as the basis for the short story I wrote last fall, but I had no idea, then, about a project soon to be in the works. This collection of stories would be called

After The Scars: A Second Chances Anthology

It seemed the perfect place, a perfect fit for the story I had needed to tell. Love had given me enough scars, emotional scars this time, to rival the scar tissue I had on my body.

I gather these invisible scars, along with my physical ones, and I hope both kinds will make me stronger. They carry some shame and some embarrassment along with them, of which I struggle sometimes to live with, but they are reminders I will keep with me always.

It’s hard to open myself up, to someone, to anyone. It’s hard to let them see that I do, in deed, possess both types of scars. It’s a risk and I sometimes fear I won’t be able to accept that, but I do. What else is there?

Love and life carry with them both the good and the bad. Love can do both things Swift sings about in “Blank Space”.

Love can take your breath away with its intensity. Then, you can walk away from such intensity, marked by the emotional scars that remain.

The universal truth of this astounds me every day. That is what gave me the fuel to write my story and that is what will likely always have a place at the heart of any story I write going forward.

I wear both classifications of scar with pride, as I declare here first.

Won’t you join me?

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Bucket List, Feminism, History, Kerry's Causes, Memoir and Reflections, Special Occasions, TToT, Writing

TToT: Second Chance Stories

“He’s so precious!”

We were sitting in the lobby of the long-term care facility where my aunt now resides. We were spending the morning with her and we wanted to get her out of her room, bring her somewhere else, so she could watch people and we’d already determined that the wind was too much for her outside.

Suddenly a voice spoke and my head jerked upward at the words.

Who was that? Whom were they referring to? Who was just so precious?

The lady who spoke walked over toward my father who was sitting to my left.

“I’m going to give you a hug,” she said.

Then she blew kisses to us all and went on her way. It was time for lunch.

Ten Things of Thankful

Sunday: Happy 18th Birthday Malala!

For a strong example of what truly matters in this world and the greatest hope we have for the future.

Malala Yousafzai has been through hell and back and is fighting using words and education, against the violence and hatred shown toward her, to come out on the other side to fight for–

BOOKS NOT BULLETS

sounds like the best idea I’ve ever heard.

That is the outcry and the call to action of one tough young woman.

Monday: first dates sometimes lead to second ones.

For the chance to meet someone new.

It’s not so easy, for me at least, to find someone I can talk to and click with.

I am grateful for a connection made and a new friend, at the very least.

Wednesday: Happy Second Anniversary Bri.

For selfless angels who give the ultimate gift and for the strength shown from their family too.

On July 15th, 2013, my brother received a kidney from a selfless angel.

I’d watched him attached to dialysis machines and unwell, unable to move forward with his life for years.

Finally, he could start to live his life again.

For a long awaited release and a dream of mine that I have now checked off my bucket list.

secondchancesoutnowmeme-2015-07-19-10-30.jpg

On my blog I wrote about my short story and the reason why I wrote about love, loss, and starting over.

One Last Kiss

I am very proud of my story and the anthology it can be found in.

After the Scars: A Second Chances Anthology

Thursday: sometimes travel brings unexpected things.

For the unexpected stop on a road trip.

Me and a giant apple.

000-2015-07-19-10-30.jpg

Enough said.

For old buildings and holding onto history.

I have always had a a phobia of old places and things. I remember it from an early age. Visiting a local pioneer village was not my idea of fun. I disliked secondhand stores and antique shops.

Now I try to introduce myself to the past because it matters.

On my latest few days away I stayed in a bed and breakfast, an old house which has been turned into a lovely place to stay.

Where I stayed was up on the second floor. It had two bedrooms, a full kitchen, and small sitting room. Plus, it had a nice porch.

This house would have been over 100 years old. It felt very homey and comfortable, even for someone as picky as myself. I slept well there and stood at the window, in the morning, enjoying the warm sunshine on my face.

Friday: life does not stand still and we all age.

For another chance to visit with my aunt. She’s not in an ideal situation. She is unable to take care of herself now and must be in a long-term care facility.

I worry about her there, for her days of endless monotony. She will be there for the rest of her life, more than likely. I wish she wouldn’t have to.

For the chance to have met her, made possible by my parents, who believed that distance (whether physical or emotional) shouldn’t prevent family from getting to know each other.

My family visited her several times over the past 25 years and made some memories I’ll always cherish.

I hope, if she can hold onto a memory, that she remembers that we care, always.

For a lovely lunch, provided by my cousin.

She is full of energy and so is her daughter. They offered lovely conversation and a delicious meal.

I’d never had a dill pickle wrap before.

I’m glad we got to know them and could spend the afternoon together, catching up.

For a spectacular view, even if I can’t see it and must take other people’s word for it.

We ate our lunch at the golf course, with an amazing view of the Ottawa River in the background.

I can not see these views anymore, but I can imagine them and I can feel their presence. I will never forget or take that for granted.

Whether it’s the woman from my story earlier, girls wanting an education, the little anecdotes revealed when entering into any new relationship, or a book of stories (part fiction and part non) we all have inside our imaginations – I am grateful for my own and for the learning and discovering of others.

zsecondchancescovercheckedsmall-2015-07-19-10-30.jpg

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Bucket List, RIP, The Insightful Wanderer, TravelWriting, TToT, Writing

TToT: Make It Happen!

Here I am, speeding along through July and toward the middle of the month.

Now we’re talking, July!

Things are really starting to heat up, or I hope that’s what’s happening. I’ve just got to stay alert and focused on my goals.

TEN THINGS OF THANKFUL

Lately, I’ve been feeling rather restless and in a hurry, impatiently anxious and waiting for something, some things to happen.

What things, you ask…well, read on to find out. Hopefully this second week of July is the week things are really going to start happening for me this summer.

Monday: Shark Week

For awareness brought to these spectacular survivors and rulers of the ocean.

I hope we won’t need a week to remember the sharks, by the time my niece and my nephews are grown, because we’ve done something irresponsible and something we can’t take back, here in 2015.

Online, everywhere you go when searching sharks, so many attention-grabbing articles and videos are posted. However, they are all ones that involve the word “attack” and are meant to fit stereotypes of what dangerous, man-eating creatures sharks are.

That title is old and outdated. I am not sure I could swim with one, but I respect sharks and I don’t want to lose them.

Tuesday: The Mess Of Me

For the pleasant surprise I received when I arrived home, to find a book waiting for me in the mail.

I had been eagerly waiting for this for days, but apparently the trip over from England to Canada, for a book in the mail is a long one.

🙂

        http://www.amazon.com/Chantelle-Atkins/e/B00J7ACVCY

I found Chantelle Atkins on Facebook and have been following her journey as an author for some time now. Then I entered a contest and won a copy of one of her novels.

I sometimes feel bad, entering contests for books, because I can not even read them in print. I didn’t really want to take the chance of winning a copy away from someone else, but I love books, whether or not I can still read them without the aid of technology. I love to collect them and put them on my bookshelf. I even got a signed copy.

Wednesday: Could it be? A new little storyteller in the making?

For a perfect five minutes, holding my new pal, before she grew once more grumpy and demanded to be returned to her mommy.

My phone decided to cooperate this time, as I got a solid five with my new friend, the sweetest little doll on the planet, while her mother snapped some photos of the two of us, just chilling out.

My friend’s little girl is already ten weeks old and this time I got to hold her for a while, listening to her tell her mother and me stories.

I think she may be a writer in the making, or at least, she’ll be animated and charismatic like her mom.

Thursday: When a friend is in need, it’s Kerry to the rescue.

🙂

For the opportunity to be there, in a pinch, to help a friend out of a late-night jam.

I have a couch and if offering it up could possibly prevent one more over-tired driver from getting into a terrible accident, risking their own death or the death of someone else, I think it’s worth it.

For a huge honour, a most welcome surprise, but a definite humbling pressure to live up to.

I was just about to fall asleep, rather late, when my phone went off. It was a message from a travel writer on Facebook.

I’d submitted a few of my travel articles to this particular travel writer,

Amy Gigi Alexander,

whom I highly admire.

Amy has started a database of female writers, adventure seekers, and travellers.

Writing Walking Women

I didn’t expect that she would bestow me with the title of “number 87) on WWW’s list of women who love travel and writing about it.

As, hopefully, I grow my reputation for being a woman who loves to write about travel, (slowly but surely) I hope I am able to live up to this placement on the list.

Friday: RIP Morgan.

For the chance to have an amazing person in my life and as a part of my family, at least for a little while and always and forever.

I wrote about the impact my cousin had on me, last year, on the ten-year anniversary of his death.

Summertime Sadness

Although we tend to mark these occasions annually, I only wrote about it on the ten year mark, but the people we’ve loved and lost deserve a lot more than that. They deserve to be spoken of often, to keep their memory going.

“Beyond the door, there’s peace, I’m sure.”

Eric Clapton speaks of Heaven, but no matter what your religious beliefs may be, I know we all just hope our departed loved ones are at peace. I sure hope so.

For long awaited emails and now the pressure’s on.

🙂

I have been waiting, for what felt like many months, but really it’s been just this past six months or so that my luck seemed to change for the better.

I found a place for a short story I had written and now the day is very nearly here. My story will be released in an anthology. At least, I hope it will. (A few last-minute jitters.)

Announcing My Second Chance

Hoping all will go well and this isn’t too good to be true.

An email went out to all the authors, sharing a final final edit of the anthology. I hope I know how to follow instructions to get me to Wednesday’s release in tact.

Stay tuned for next week’s TToT post for more on how this went.

For a much needed reminder to be grateful, as the entire TToT is meant for, with the sudden stripe sighting.

While playing with my nephew, at the playground, I suddenly spotted his striped shirt.

For so long now, I’d think my little remaining vision may be slipping away, but then I see stripes and I am happy. All hope is not lost.

A date recently told me he wore a bright green T-shirt to meet me, in the hopes that I could better spot him in a crowd. Nice thought he had. Well, this was ineffective, but then I see stripes and I have hope.

Saturday: DVS

For descriptive video services.

I recently received help, from my sister, to finally get the option on my television turned on so I now have some shows I watch narrated for me.

Some movie theatres do this. (Not always…don’t get me started on that.)

🙂

My brother and I used to rent movies all the time, that came in the mail, with descriptive track to explain the visual parts to us.

Now I have that function turned on for my television, but then I came across another website, full of MP3 movies. This means there is no picture. Just soundtrack. That’s all I need. The list of movies isn’t bad. My brother showed me one last Christmas, but this one I found all on my own.

For strong family and friends in my life.

I have family who deserve to get everything they have been praying for and just might be, to friends who are discovering strengths they never even knew they had, to other family with daily longing for a loved one who is no longer with us.

These people demonstrate this strength of character, not just one day a year, but all 365 days. It’s in everything they do, that which helps me remember what true bravery and perseverance look like.

I want to thank them all.

See how this week of mine started out a little slow, but grew with its momentum? See how things really started to heat up as the week progressed?

I’m off now to make sure I have things in order, to put in the effort and make it happen.

😉

I’m not going to miss this chance.

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Book Reviews, Bucket List, Feminism, Fiction Friday, TGIF, This Day In Literature

Scout’s Back With A Bang!

I have read the first chapter, along with so many others, on the Friday before the big Tuesday release of Go Set a Watchman.

I know there is still an undercurrent of concern, from myself and others, that Lee has not been able to sign off on this book, after all these years.

Big News For Harper Lee Fans Everywhere

I was invariably impressed and intrigued by this first glimpse:

http://www.wsj.com/articles/harper-lees-go-set-a-watchman-read-the-first-chapter-1436500861

Scout is a force to be reckoned with, now as an adult, but there was also a sad revelation I was not prepared for.

Maybe this piece of information was mentioned somewhere already, as I have not seen many other people who seemed as surprised as I was when I read it (having to reread the sentence in question, to make sure I read what I thought I did).

This novel was written first, before To Kill A Mockingbird, but her publishers encouraged her to write the child Scout’s story first, and now we finally get to jump ahead twenty years, to the 1950s.

Scout is in love, but she is also equal parts fiercely independent and headstrong.

I am already hooked, eagerly waiting to find out where she goes in life, as a character.

Next week may be a crowded one. If I can get everything in order,

like Little Bird Publishing has requested,

I will have my short story released in an anthology, one day after Harper Lee and Go Set A Watchman.

Honoured to share a week like that with her.

http://www.wsj.com/articles/harpercollins-has-a-lot-riding-on-harper-lee-1436476922?mod=e2fb

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Bucket List, Fiction Friday, Guest Blogs and Featured Spotlights, Special Occasions, TGIF, Writing

Announcing My Second Chance

“Would fishing be fun if the fish jumped out of the ocean and smacked you in the face?”

I don’t think so.

In fact, that sounds like a nightmare I had once.

🙂

If fishing is thought, by some to be boring, this would be the opposite.

Downright frightening, in other words, but I like this writer’s post because it makes some true points on the subjects of balance, perspective, and when enough is enough in the life of an author.

Please shut up: why self-promotion as an author doesn’t work.

Now, while I think having a catchy title or opening line, like I made sure to include at the start of this post can work to grab the reader’s attention, I can’t say I haven’t been told to “please shut up” a time or two.

Okay okay, so it may not have been to my face every time, but I can guarantee it was being said under the breath.

I post on this blog, at a minimum, once a week. I post on Facebook and Twitter on a daily basis.

I want to share something. I want to express myself.

Both true and anyone who does that doesn’t always know, for the sake of all others, when enough’s enough.

I am proud to announce something today, but apparently I couldn’t just do it, without prefacing my announcement without my special brand of hyper-awareness of my self-promotion, and that it isn’t my goal to be pushy.

Because, as the blog post I linked above says (just in case you didn’t read it), nobody is going to buy a book, just because my story is in it.

Well, not only because they follow me on Twitter, have liked me on Facebook, and I don’t even have Instagram or Tumblr anyway.

I know that by opening myself up like this, I am risking vulnerability, and I’ not sure how I completely feel about it.

Sure, if E.L. James can handle it, so can I, right?

😉

Others may have an opinion of my story. Along with the good there inevitably could and will come the bad.

I wanted to share my good news with you here. That’s all I have control over.

I am bad at self-promotion.

Oh sure, I do it, but not because I live to promote.
I am one blog, in a galaxy of millions, and I wanted to announce that I have written a short story: One Last Kiss.

It is coming out, in June, assuming all goes as planned.

Okay, so I have a hard time believing it’s really happening because things like this don’t happen to me. Well, rarely if ever, but there’s always got to be a first for everything, right?

If you were to ask anyone who believes in the power of positive thinking, they’d say I need to scrap talk and thinking like that because no good can come of it.

So I choose to believe in this and to be excited.

I can’t see the cover, but the day the email was sent out to everyone of us, included in this anthology, the one in which the cover image was first revealed to us, I admit I couldn’t stop smiling.

I wanted someone to describe it to me, where exactly everything was, and where my name appeared. I gobbled up every single detail I could, so I could picture things exactly in my mind’s eye, the most powerful tool at my disposal.

Now I can finally share it with the rest of the world, or with my little piece of the world anyway, because I was told the Queen is much too busy with her birthday celebrations to offer me her opinion.

🙂

Right, well I never promised a humour anthology.

http://romanceanthologieshfbooks.blogspot.co.uk

The one to organize all this made the official announcement, over on her own blog, this past Sunday:

Author Hazel Robinson’s Blog – After The Scars Cover Reveal

This title fits perfectly because this was, indeed, my second chance, in a lot of ways.

More to come, but check out the Facebook page:

The Second Chances Anthology

I should be featured, with a short bio and synopsis of my story, on the page in May sometime.

Finally, I just wanted to share the GoodReads link. I can’t believe I am on GoodReads!

After The Scars – The Second Chances Anthology

Speaking of…I’m off to shout this from the rooftops.

Feel free to tell me to shut up: in your head, under your breath, or even out loud if you really deem it necessary.

wpid-unknown-2015-04-24-07-23.jpg

Lara Fabian – I Will Love Again (slow version)

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Blogging, Memoir and Reflections, NANOWRIMO 2013, Writing

Letting Go and Continuing to Write Another Day

Last May I read a call for submissions, from an online author’s Facebook group I had recently joined. They said it was for an anthology they were thinking of putting together, for charity, and that people didn’t need to be experienced or professional writers to join in. Sounded like an excellent cause: literacy for children was the thought at the time. I could think of no better cause than that.

I was new to this, thinking this would be the perfect way to get my feet wet, so-to-speak. I felt welcomed with open arms. I thought it could be the perfect opportunity to send a short story in and I started working through some ideas in my head immediately.

As summer progressed the idea took shape in even clearer ways. The storyline grew out of some things I had recently experienced in my own life, but I was attempting to deal with those real-life issues and feelings through the magic of fiction.

I write a lot and I mostly have written memoir over time. A lot of authors say writing memoir makes them feel naked and exposed, but I find fiction does that more for me than anything I’ve ever written about myself outright.

Now that it is mid-January I am trying to stick to really the only sort-of resolution I’ve made since 2015 began a few short weeks ago. I am trying to not feel envious or jealous of what others have and to find the good in my own life, where I currently stand and to not feel angry at what I see that others may have or be doing without me. Then something happened to me last week that left me feeling angry and wounded.

I know. I know. That didn’t take very long at all, did it?
🙂
I actually did it. I have very little to show for any sort of fictional writing, but I wrote a short piece to submit to this charity anthology. Other than the half-way attempt at a novel from 2013s National Novel Writing Month and a few short stories I’ve written on my blog, I have very little to show for the years I let pass me by, but I hoped to start on the road to changing all that.

Unfortunately, things did not work out like I hoped they would. First of all, I found it difficult to communicate with the group of writers who were publishing this anthology, especially over the holidays. This is totally understandable. People are busy and days are hectic and harried.

So then when the new year came and went I had sent several emails, gotten help to make sure I’d sent my story in a format easily edited, but I hadn’t heard back that my story had been edited at all. I still assumed, having kept in some contact over the private Facebook group about this anthology, that everything would work out somehow. I guess I was being naive.

I received an online contract from one of the authors in charge and I sent it back, all filled out. I wasn’t making any money from this. I didn’t want any. I only wanted to be included in something with a group of other writers, just a way to get my work out there amongst others, for the experience of joining something alone. The contract wasn’t perfect, but it promised my story would be one amongst the others in the anthology and that I would receive one e-copy for myself.

Someone else, with much more experience than myself, they would be handling everything else. I only had to write the story and they would see that it got published with the others in the group, on the online ebook selling sites such as Amazon. I knew, from others who had recently done it, that the formatting and publishing of an ebook on Amazon is difficult and confusing. I was glad to have my story included and this first time I didn’t have the stress of trying to figure all that other stuff out.

There was to be a big online release party on the weekend and as far as I knew, I would be a part of it, but I wanted to be sure, before I went and told friends and family.

I thought I was getting a short piece of my writing published on a site last spring and I couldn’t help telling people about it; I was so excited. When that did not materialize, I felt let down and disappointed. It had been my fault though. I was the one to jump the gun and rush into speaking about it, before I had any real confirmation, but I figured I would get another chance.

Well this wouldn’t be it.

I decided I needed to confirm so I came right out and asked and was informed that my story was lost, never received, and that they were sorry to tell me I would not be included in the anthology. The timing had never been right and I felt like there was enough blame to go around, me included, but I felt the sting of rejection and mistreatment nonetheless.

This story was a short story I wrote about the roller coaster, the ups and downs, all that love can throw at you and how to move on and turn a new page. Even the title of the anthology seemed to be perfectly fitting and meant to be. That is what it was called and what it was about.

Why should I be upset? This was just some online thing with people I have never met in person. Why did it hurt so much when I heard for certain that I was not a part of it?

I was mad and hurt, in equal measure. I felt toyed with, like a lot of drama and unprofessionalism had gone on behind the scenes somewhere and through no fault of my own. I did not fully understand what had happened and I never will. I had worked hard on my story and had written it about a particularly difficult period of my life, hoping too that the publishing of this story would mean a new page, a fresh start, a blank slate and next chapter in my own life, personally and maybe even a step forward with my writing.

I felt like I had been messed with and treated carelessly. I wanted to complain and whine and vent my frustrations on Facebook, to all who would listen, even those who were celebrating their stories all being published in the anthology that weekend. I got upset all over again when I accidentally heard notifications and statuses about the anthology’s release.

I have sat with these emotions ever since and have tried telling myself I am better off. I know it wasn’t meant to be and I will have future opportunities still to come. I know the important thing is that I wrote it and nobody can take that away from me.

Then negative thoughts entered my mind. The suspicious part of my brain feared that someone somewhere still actually has my story and that they could possibly take it and publish it as their own. I know this isn’t likely. I know the authors involved are still people I have never met in person and that I didn’t really know any of them. They don’t owe me anything and I don’t either.

Even online I feel it, it can be petty. I have realized there can be and there are groups like in real life, like in high school and beyond. I suppose what I wanted was to be a part of something, to feel my writing was receiving some sort of attention and recognition from others. I had to let go of any anger, realizing that I had written something that meant a lot to me. That hadn’t changed.

I believe in taking the good and the positive from any situation and learning and growing from it. I have felt a bit lost and adrift lately and since the start of 2015 even more so.

I have found a lot of interesting blogs and bloggers, writers and authors, but online is still a mystery to me, a place where circles of people hang out. I see it all the time. I wonder how these circles form and how they keep going. I see it because I have a blog. I can’t avoid it, but it is important to remember that there is a big bad world not to be missed outside my own door. Sometimes it’s just easier to hide out where I have been, but I know I will move forward and on to experience new places and new people, perhaps even over the coming year.

So much bad stuff in the news and these latest above experiences notwithstanding…I woke this week to a truly wonderful thing going on online, mostly through social media and blogging. I wrote about it the other day. If you missed it or are a blogger who might be interested, check it out here:

https://kkherheadache.wordpress.com/2015/01/14/my-voice-amungst-the-thousands/

It’s hard for me to understand why people do what they do. A lot of it, although often called selfless or good deedish, still comes off feeling disingenuous and unauthentic. I wonder if anyone ever does anything without expecting something for themselves, deep down. Even the best people with the best intentions, it seems to me, are ultimately hoping to get something out of it.

This isn’t a bad thing; however, I have a hard time with it. Perhaps that is why, online or off, I am not making a lot of money, certainly not of my own. I can’t feel like I am selling myself. I feel dirty and uncomfortable, like I am not being true to who I am. It doesn’t seem to sit well with me.

I know writing is most often an attention-seeking endeavour. It screams, if you choose to share it, “LOOK AT ME!” and I do play a part in this dance.

I guess I just haven’t found a way to use my blog to sell something to people or to sell myself as a product. I have developed a brand for myself: the Her Headache of this blog and the Insightful Wanderer more recently still, but I can’t quite seem to fit comfortably snug in either role, not entirely anyway.

Sounds fickle, I know.

Finally, I just wanted to share the following link, an interview below with a writer and blogger I’ve followed for some time now. She is a Canadian, a mother and wife, and a writer. I have been attempting to focus in on a selection of Canadian literature and writers when I can find it. This interview is the purest explanation of what being a writer means, why it’s important, and how life feels without that outlet. I couldn’t agree more with Carrie Snyder and her thoughts:

Carrie Snyder’s Advice to an Aspiring Writer

I want things too. I want, ultimately, to be recognized for the thing I love and for which makes me whole. I want to be able to support myself through this thing.

Is that possible or a far-away pipe dream?

It isn’t easy. In the end I will need to let go of the relative security of the online world and hopefully show what I can do to real people, people I can speak in person with, who I can look directly in the face. I declare here that I will find a way to do this. I have taken steps and I will take more of them. I will not let myself grow bitter and disillusioned. I just won’t!

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Guest Blogs and Featured Spotlights, Writing

Fierce

I never would have imagined I would be known for being Fierce, but I’ll take it. I am honoured and thrilled to be featured on a lovely lady’s blog today. Check it out here

Bold Blind Beauty: Fierce Fridays

I will be returning the favour in an upcoming post here, where I will speak to her on her much-needed site where she focuses on style for the visually impaired. I will be finding out what made her decide to start a website about the need to bring attention to the visually impaired who deserve to enjoy fashion just as much as any sighted person does, and to dispel the myths surrounding the belief that if you can’t see you won’t care about how you present yourself to the world.

I am looking forward to speaking to her very soon about all of this and sharing it here.

***

I also wanted to update some of the things I have on the go and hope to bring here in the following weeks and months:

I will be taking the plunge, taking THE WALK. I will be completing the CN Tower’s Edge Walk experience and will live to write about it.

I am writing a few essays, which I hope to submit to sites such as:

Full Grown People

I am still waiting to hear back from a site which publishes stories of female friendship,

Friend Stories

as they have already contacted me once, about a month ago now, to say my essay would be a welcome addition to the site.

This summer I will be writing two short stories, a romance and a sad tale, which I plan to submit to:

The Alice Munro Short Story Competition

and an author anthology, raising money for charity. I am looking forward to having my schoolwork out of the way so I can focus on these projects and this blog.

Within the next few weeks I also hope to have up a Spotlight interview with hair stylist and owner at an amazing salon:

To be found herehttps://www.facebook.com/GLOW.HAIR.STUDIO

All that and much more so stay tuned.

Herheadache

P.S. I wanted to give a shout-out, if she sees this, to my amazing sister who stayed late with me last night, working on improving and adding to the features and the look of this place. Thanks for your help KH.

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