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Rated: 18+ · Book · Writing · #1197218
Reflections and ruminations from a modern day Alice - Life is Wonderland
Reflections and ruminations from a modern day Alice - Life is Wonderland


Modern Day Alice


Welcome to the place were I chronicle my own falls down dark holes and adventures chasing white rabbits! Come on In, Take a Bite, You Never Know What You May Find...


"Curiouser and curiouser." Alice in Wonderland


I'm docked at Talent Pond's Blog Harbor, a safe port for bloggers to connect.


BCOF Insignia


Blog City image small
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February 5, 2019 at 11:12am
February 5, 2019 at 11:12am
#951228
"Blogging Circle of Friends "
DAY 2270: February 5, 2019
Prompt: Sometimes we should express our gratitude for the small and simple things like the scent of the rain, the taste of your favorite food, or the sound of a loved one's voice. Joseph B. Wirthlin
Write about the little things you are grateful for.


I often tell myself to appreciate the little things in life. Sometimes its those small, fleeting moments of happiness that make the whole crazy ride really worth it. For me, it is those moments that I try to take stock in, file away or write about as evidence that I'm doing something right in this life. Moments like crawling back into bed early Sunday morning after taking the dogs out before the sun. It is the only morning my husband is there to sleep in and I have to smile watching the dogs both jockey for the prime position of lying next to him. My daughter almost always wakes with a warm smile, surrounded by all the people and fur siblings she most loves in all the world. She feels safe and contented and is shows on her soft features. Sometimes we take coffee and bagels in bed and watch the news, reluctant to part ways right away and get up and start the day doing our own things. Sunday mornings are filled with my most favorite little things.

Simple things tend like freshly brewed cup of Italian roast on the back deck watching the birds, laughing with my sister over something one of us said, or doing some coloring or art with my daughter...are filled with the kind of brevity you need in a life that often feels out of balance or chaotic. Spending an hour in a coffee shop catching up with my oldest friend is like balm on my soul. Sitting by the fire with a good glass of red wine and a book is just heavenly. Watching the sun rise, or spending a few moments appreciating the painted sky at sunset gives me a chance to catch my breathe and feel grateful for all life's blessings.


"Blog City ~ Every Blogger's Paradise"
DAY 1876--February 5, 2019
Prompt: “Sometimes there is no darker place than our thoughts, the moonless midnight of the mind.” Dean Koontz
Why do you think people experience those dark thoughts, and even some become fixated on them?


I think all people have a dark side. I believe it is human to feel the dark thoughts and that it takes responsibility to not let them rule over us. Evil exists and I think we must always be wary of the power it has to corrupt us. I do not know how people give in and do evil things, how they allow it to take over and crawl from thoughts and nightmares into their reality - only that some do. Sometimes dark thoughts are born of doubt or fear but then others are spawned from more primitive instincts and impulses like greed and lust, and a hunger for something that can not be achieved unless their is an absence of light in one's soul and a lack of a sound moral compass.

I am watching the "Ted Bundy Tapes" on Netflicks the other day and I was thinking about this stuff. How does someone become that depraved? How does someone get so corrupted that they loose themselves completely in the "midnight"? Is it one trauma suffered at a crucial time of development or it is something more insidious at work? Is there such a thing as evil taking over and possessing someone? It that latter is true, how do we protect ourselves from people like this? People that can kill and murder without conscious or remorse, driven by some hidden evil entity that hides behind blue eyes and toothy grins...how do we fortify ourselves from something we can not explain or see coming? At the end of the day, why are we even drawn to watch things like this program? It is our morbid curiosity or some powerful need for self-preservation...is it easiest for us to fight off the evil we know?
January 30, 2019 at 10:00am
January 30, 2019 at 10:00am
#950757
30 Day Blogging Challenge
PROMPT January 30th
It's the last day of the official competition, and the last War Chest Wednesday, so it's only fitting I repeat this prompt from November. *Wink* Write a list of at least 5 blogging prompts to add to the Challenge War Chest to be used for future rounds of the 30DBC. Then, use one of your own prompts to write your entry.


I've really enjoyed participating in this month's challenge. Big thanks to Emily for keeping us all motivated and encouraged all month long - great job!!

My favorite prompts have been the ones that have demanded my own reflection and allowed me to reveal more about myself as a writer and a blogger. The only thing I felt I would have also liked to see more of are those kinds of prompts that would have challenged me to create something outside myself. My selection of prompts would feature a least one or two of these, designed to encourage a piece of new flash fiction, prose or poetry perhaps.

Five Future Prompts for Consideration:

1. Music is a prominent feature in many people's lives. Write a blog, piece of fiction, poetry of prose featuring music as a central theme.

2. What are your go to methods for overcoming writer's block?

3. Write a prompt inspired by the following quote by Emily Dickinson:

"Hope is the thing with feathers
That perches in the soul,
And sings the tune without the words,
And never stops at all"

4. Let's sharpen our descriptive skills. Take us someplace! Write a story, blog or describe one of the following locations and transport us there with your words: a battle field, an evening carnival, a cruise ship, a country fair, a cemetery, a high school cafeteria, a tropical lagoon, or a skating rink.

5. According to Wikipedia, "Valentine's Day, also called Saint Valentine's Day or the Feast of Saint Valentine,[1] is celebrated annually on February 14. Originating as a Western Christian feast day honoring one or two early saints named Valentinus, Valentine's Day is recognized as a significant cultural, religious, and commercial celebration of romance and romantic love in many regions around the world, although it is not a public holiday in any country. " What are your true feelings about this holiday? Is it a commercial trap? Do you observe or boycott it?

For my final entry of this month's challenge I will take this opportunity to practice my descriptive skills a bit...which would follow my own #4 prompt:

The torrential rains that had kept the battalions at bay for days, suddenly broke and yielded to the late July summer sunshine. The fingers of bright, warm light crept across the field, advancing quickly in the afternoon hours. There was a sudden eruption of sound as four sets of feet clambered noisy across the porch and launched into the damp, green yard, shedding socks and shoes in their wake. The leader John, his body tanned and lithe, was the first to reach the lime green hose on the far side of the house. Cranking the spigot, he began barking orders at his troops.

Georgia, the oldest girl was dispatched to get the bucket. Riley was instructed to gather the bags of ammunition. Bella and Ryan were sent to edge of the yard to watch should any of the enemy venture out prematurely. They all hunkered down and began working, efficiently filling, tying and stacking. They worked, a nearly silent contingent, building their reserves as the sun beat down on their bare backs. After fifteen minutes, their bucket was filled to the top.

"Would it be enough?" Riley looked at John, the question burning in his round eyes.

John looked back as his ragtag unit, their bodies were almost vibrating with the anticipation of the battle. It had to be enough, he thought.

"Go," he ordered Bella and Ryan. The two youngest set off running for the house, raising the alarm with loud, whooping cries.

Riley and Georgie moved into position, flanking John. They moved the bucket closer, well in range of their reaching caramel-colored arms. They were ready.

The decoys came racing back on pumping legs trailed by a good number of the enemy clutching colorful, sweating cocktails and wearing masks of mild confusion.

John waited, letting them draw closer and into range. The enemy moved in a sluggish mass across the wet grass. Their bellies were too full and their senses clouded with alcohol from the hours they'd spent making merriment instead of training, instead of planning their own assault. They were too slow to recognize with the threat in front of them.

"FIRE!" John suddenly shouted, raising both sinewy arms and tossing the heavy bombs as far as he could into the approaching enemy. Georgie and Riley echoed the war cry, letting loose their own barrage of fire power.

The water balloons connected with the group of adults, exploding across the broad chests and surprised faces. Screams filled the yard. Bella and Ryan fell behind their lines and took up arms, pumping fists and shouting in between throws. The four of them soaked the advancing adults, reloading again and again until the balloons began to run low. Sensing a pause in the onslaught, Uncle Leo dove in and snatched little Bella, tossing her on his hip and falling back toward the house. Too late, John realized he was going for the hose.

"Retreat!" John shouted to the remaining members of his squad. They scattered but where soon captured by the adults.

Uncle Leo commended John on his battle plan and bravery of his team before turning the hose on the captive regiment, all except little Bella who had turned traitor. She clapped and squealed with delight along with the enemy as her older cousins were hosed off their feet.

The victors retired to their armchairs and red solo cups while the losing squad traversed the yard plucking the colorful remnants of burst water balloons from the grass. The sun quickly dried their working bodies. They had fought hard. They had fought well. The summer was long. They would fight again.

January 29, 2019 at 9:36am
January 29, 2019 at 9:36am
#950686
"Blogging Circle of Friends "
DAY 2263: January 29, 2019
Prompt: "Faith is the bird that feels the light when the dawn is still dark." Rabindranath Tagore
Let this quote inspire your blog entry today.


There is something beautiful about this quote. I've noticed that birds are often associated with Faith. I wonder if it is because they spend so much time in the sky, flying closer to Heaven than most of us ever get too?

Faith is tricky. It demands more of us when things are difficult. It is easy to have Faith when we are content and we can clearly see all the blessings in our life. It is when the darkness comes that Faith wants us to really put in the work. Faith calls us to believe there is light beyond the all the darkness and in that light, we will find Hope. Whether a person is religious or spiritual, Faith is something we must find for ourselves. It is not always bestowed upon us at birth. I have found my Faith through trial and prayer, through feeling that there was nothing left to hold me except one thing, and that thing must therefore be Faith. The symbolism of the bird stretching its wings in the dark, getting them ready to take flight into a Dawn it knows will come is a powerful representation of Faith for me.


"Blog City ~ Every Blogger's Paradise"
DAY 1870-January 29, 2019
Prompt:What is a “loveless life” for you? Which kinds of love? Can anyone live loveless?


Love takes so many forms that it would be hard for anyone to live a life without love. You could certainly live a life without romantic love but most everyone has a passion for something...even a recluse loves their solitary existence. I'm tempted to say that there is no such thing as a truly "loveless life". A person could wall themselves off from the world and there would still be something they hold dear, something that drives them to breathe and wake each day. I would argue that if we exists, we do so because we love something.



January 29, 2019 at 9:00am
January 29, 2019 at 9:00am
#950684
30 Day Blogging Challenge
PROMPT January 29th
Allow me to share this quote regarding my local weather this week: ”Dangerous wind chills of -45 degrees F (-43 C) to -65 degrees F (-54 C) are expected for most of the period from Tuesday night through Thursday morning. This is a life-threatening situation...” etcetera, etcetera... stay inside... frostbite... etcetera.
My question for you has two parts: What is the worst weather you’ve experienced? And what is your ideal weather?


In Southeast New England, we have alternated between winters that heap on the snow or, like this one, subject us to brief and bitter cold snaps and not a lot of the white stuff. This past summer was the most humid on record and it was horrendous. We seem to deal in extremes in my neck of the woods. Still, I would take snow over heat and humidity most years. Ideally, I would like it be early Fall all year round. Warm enough for long sleeves in the day, sweatshirt and bonfire weather come night. The weather that typically comes in on the heels of late September and stays until just after Halloween. The leaves turn colorful, there is that magical chill in the night air and the days are defined by bright sunshine. It is still warm enough for dingy rides up the Mystic river or to pick apples in your shirt sleeves by day but chilly enough to light a fire in the autumn evenings to ward off the coming cold. Of course, this near perfect weather also happens to fall in hurricane season for us here. So there is that...
The worst weather I've been in was during a hurricane in early October a few years back. It rained for days, so hard that the back yard turned into a lake. It was miserable with the dogs. Lots of trees came down, lots of people were out of power for days that stretched into weeks. It was the wind that was the worst, it whipped across the yard and churned the tops of the massive trees around like some kind of Hollywood special effect.
It is rare that a hurricane doesn't lose most of its punch before it hits our section of the East Coast. We watch news coverage of the damage in the Carolina's and Outer Banks and feel badly for those people, all the while knowing their Cat 4 hurricane will be a weakened tropical storm by the time it hits our shores...most often than not. Sometimes though, one of those intrepid storms will just surge on up, or dip out to see to get some more mojo before circling back to give us a direct hit. It hasn't happened very often and New Englanders mark every few decades with a raging storm like Bob, Carol, Gloria and Sandy.
January 28, 2019 at 10:38am
January 28, 2019 at 10:38am
#950634
30 Day Blogging Challenge
PROMPT January 28th
I had a different prompt in mind for today, but decided as it’s the last Monday of January, we all needed a little pick-me-up.
Write about something happy in your life! What’s happened recently that made you smile? What’s the last thing you laughed at? I will award a MB to my favorite entry today! It's the last MB challenge day of the month, so give it your best go!


In order to fully appreciate this post, I'll have to divulge something about my personal life. I am very close to my sister but and also very different from her. We refer to ourselves as "city mouse" and "country mouse". My sister lives on a 9 acre horse farm with a menagerie that includes goats, horses, cats and dogs - so you can guess which one of us is "city mouse". I frequently joke that I have nightmares of waking up in her life, in some freaky Friday scenario that suddenly finds me running her doggie daycare and boarding business - something I would be ill equipped to do with my wardrobe of heels and pencil skirts. Notably, she says the same exact thing about my life. Until recently, I had no cause to explore my sister's rural and rustic lifestyle. I was content not to ever know the true identity of the substances she ends each day covered with. Then, my sister launched "operation Jaden" and everything changed.

I'm not sure why my sister waited until my daughter was eight to begin her crusade. It might have had something to do with us moving closer, a mere seven minutes from her new horse property. It might have just been that she had bided her time with her only niece long enough. Whatever the reason, last summer she gifted my daughter three weeks of horse camp and subsequently opened her eyes and her heart to the world of horses. My country mouse sister threw the gates to her world of fur and hooves open wide and my daughter marched through, dragging her mom (with her entirely inappropriate barn footwear) with her. Suddenly they were a secret society of two, planning and plotting for a future strewn with horsey things. Just as suddenly, I was a barn mom, which meant I was fully engaged in many, many things I had zero experience with. My daughter attacked her learning curve with gusto and passion while I, accepted my fate with as much dignity as I could muster. I bought myself muck boots and dug in, trying to seem anything but completely out of my element.

Here is the thing...and the real meat of the prompt...I've discovered that I like it. I've learned enough to know my way around the barn now. Her Tuesday evening lesson is time I actually look forward to spending with my daughter. I love watching her, acknowledging that she does seem to have the natural ability as a rider that my little sister always had. She is developing confidence and a real appreciation for the mental and physical challenges of riding. She adores my sister too, and I love the connection they share. I love that in so many ways, my sister has become my daughter's hero. It makes my heart happy to watch them together.

It isn't just about my daughter though.

Over the last year, I've grown to love this part of my sister's life, this part we share with her. I love the horses, their dark eyes reflecting something back about us all. I have an appreciation for the ones that work hard, take care of their riders despite having their own limitations. There is a special kind of grace about being with them, these massive animals who outweigh our fragile human bodies yet trust us to guide them and to care for them. There is an exchange of trust that is connected to something in our souls and it moves and fascinates me.

It brings me a kind of peace...the smell of the barn, the wide open sky above the paddocks, the pounding of my daughter's mount in a rolling canter. I enjoy the moments of tacking Sonny up before the lesson with her, sneaking him peppermints to keep him cooperative in the colder weather when he feels his years more. I love visiting my sister's own horses, and the trio of Friesian babies that currently reside with her - each of them mini black beauties that are all spunk and fire. We had the task of feeding her horses while she was away on her honeymoon and I grew to love the walk out to their pasture to drop their hay and grain in those late October afternoons. They would see us coming, their beautiful heads raised, expectant and welcoming of the meal and the petting session we were about to bestow on them. Again, there is a peace it brings me - similar in the way I used to feel slipping beneath the waves in my dive gear. Similar but different, because I am more then an observer in this world. This world demands my tactile engagement in a way scuba diving did not. Horses want that emotional and physical connection, those touches and words whispered in soft, flicking ears. I can see why people own horses, there is a quiet magic to them that brings a certain kind of solace in its wake.

Recently we were bringing Sonny out of the lesson ring and paused to clean the dirt from his shoes. Since she was stepped on early in the year, this task is one my daughter continues to be leery of. It usually falls to me to "show" her again how to get it done without getting her feet crunched. I've gotten pretty confident about it now, I've come to know how best to get Sonny to bend his leg up so I can clear out the clumps quickly. I was demonstrating for my daughter again...how you have to learn close against him, keeping your feet parallel to his. You have to reach down and grab his foot, forcing him with your body weight, to life the leg and keep his body in balance. I must have been demonstrating it with an air of authority because I heard her trainer exclaiming, "wow Mom, look at you!" as she walked up behind us. I honestly-to-God swelled with pride in that moment. I felt myself smiling. Because, here is the truth, straight from a city mouse's mouth...I like the way I've managed to learn this stuff. I like the fact that I own muck boots and can wear a head lamp with pride. I like that I know how to tack up a horse and that I go home smelling like them. I love that I can slip in mud or horse poop and not care which one it actually is. I love that I know how to help my daughter zip up her half chaps or that I even know what half chaps are! I love this little bit of country mouse I have in me now. I love it...a lot. It makes me happy in a way I never would have expected.

the trio of Friesian babies from my sister's farm

January 28, 2019 at 9:01am
January 28, 2019 at 9:01am
#950629
30 Day Blogging Challenge
PROMPT January 27th
Because this is one of my favorite prompts that I just love to repeat, I have to do it again *Wink*
Reflect on the 30 Day Blogging Competition as a whole. What is something you learned about yourself over the course of the month? What is something you learned about your fellow competitors?


I've been really proud of how I've kept up the drive to complete every prompt this time around, even if that meant catching up on Sat/Sunday prompts on Monday morning....like I'm doing this morning! I think overall I missed one day - Jan 19th. That is something of a record for me!

Overall, my favorite part of this has been connecting with my fellow bloggers and feeling that sense of community here. I have greatly appreciated the way Charlie ~ puts so much of the personal struggles, insights and triumphs into every blog entry posted. I have enjoyed the humor and candor of Robert Waltz . I have discovered much common ground with penntonic and Cobwebby Space Reader Reindeer . There have been more each week who's blogs I have read, laughed with and learned from. I have appreciated every time someone has read and commented on one of my posts as well. I'm sorry to see January coming to an end but it has been a really positive and welcome experience.
January 28, 2019 at 8:42am
January 28, 2019 at 8:42am
#950626
30 Day Blogging Challenge
PROMPT January 26th
We’re in the final countdown of the competition! Only five prompts remain. For this final Creation Saturday, write about something that’s in its final countdown. Have fun!


Playing a bit of catch up today and feeling a bit melancholy which is maybe why this prompt makes me think of my senior dog, and how we all feel like we are watching him run down after a long and active life.

Turk is rounding on age 13, which for a Min Pin is pretty old. They typically have a lot of health issues, they are not the heartiest breed. Luckily, he has been spared from diabetes and heart problems, but he does suffer from arthritis and has lost 70% of his vision as well as his teeth. He is increasing irritable and believes since he can not longer see a person's face clearly, it must mean that they are a murder or worse. I frequently have to apologize for barking and snarling, to strangers and family members alike.

He prefers to spend most of time sleeping under the blankets or stalking me about the house. He feels safest in my general orbit and so I discover he is rarely more than two feet from me. Even when I shower, I can make out his small silhouette through the foggy glass, patiently waiting for me on the bathmat. He has lived a long and full life where he has been pampered and cuddled. He has been our problem "child" and our treasured companion. It is clear that he only wants to be with us now, in his final years and we oblige him as much as we can. He comes to work with me most days, having been banned from doggie daycare for his less than hospitable attitude, and sleeps under the deck at me feet. Aside from a rare burst of manic energy, he prefers to lounge about. Every once in a while, he will get the bug to play and run. We are treated to the glimpse of the frolicking puppy his once was before the red fur of his face turned gray and his bright, intelligent eyes grew cloudy.

So we are loving him but mentally preparing for what we know will be his final time with us - as is the way with the old dogs we know and love.
January 25, 2019 at 9:07am
January 25, 2019 at 9:07am
#950419
30 Day Blogging Challenge
PROMPT January 25th
It's the last Fun Fact Friday of January! Here’s a straightforward prompt to celebrate: Make a list of at least ten random facts about yourself.


Ten Random facts about me...this seems harder than it should be actually. It has been a taxing morning on several levels but I will see what I can come up with here...

1. This is most likely the weirdest thing about me...I am phobic-ally afraid of praying mantis. Like, if one is near me, I am rendered frozen. I break out in a sweat, my stomach hurts. It is hard for me to even look at pictures of them. Before you ask, I am not really sure where the phobia comes from, there must have been a traumatic introduction at some point in my early childhood. My family finds it hilarious. They frequently test me during those long, humid summer days when the insects seem to be out in full force. They love to "surprise" me with them. My mother finds this particularly entertaining (my mother is bat-shit crazy)

2. I'm a huge fan of 1930-1940's era pinup art. Like huge. I think there is no better representation of female beauty and power then those richly colored Varga girls or those cheeky women gracing the noses of fighter jets and ships.

3. I work in aircraft sales - selling private aircraft to end users. There are not many women in the industry and people always seem surprised when I disclose what I do for a living.

4. I went to school for marine biology. My heroes were Jacques Cousteau and Dr. Eugene Clarke (the shark lady). I wanted to be the next great ocean explorer...from age 6, all through school. I was even a high school aquanaut and even traveled to Australia as a science delegate. Then I somehow ended up with a career in aviation. Go figure.

5. My favorite movies are "Mr. Holland's Opus" and the "Lost Boys" and yes, I am completely aware of how different those films are from each other.

6. I have an inexplicable and intense dislike of the singer Jewel.

7. I love asparagus and Brussel sprouts but bananas make me throw up.

8. Kayaking with Orcas is number 2 on my bucket list (#1 is a European Viking River Cruise)

9. I don't believe Bigfoot exists but I'm fairly certain the Loch Ness monster does.

10. My biggest fear in life is that I will somehow screw my daughter up by making too many bad parenting mistakes.

January 24, 2019 at 9:51am
January 24, 2019 at 9:51am
#950340
"Blog City ~ Every Blogger's Paradise"
DAY 1865 January 24, 2019
If you could only use music to describe yourself to someone, what song would it be and why? If you can add the youtube link so we can hear it too.


If I had to pick one song to describe myself, the choice would be clear. The Verve's Bitter Sweet Symphony, is haunted and complex, much like I believe I am. It has a waning melody that rolls and peaks moodily but there is also hope to be found in the rising crescendo of the bridge and refrain of, "change, I can change...". I love this song. It makes me feel centered somehow, gives credence to feeling like we are "a million different people from one day to the next", as we go through this life...trying to make it a life worth living. It is a life that takes all the bitter and the sweet to make a beautiful soundtrack.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1lyu1KKwC74



January 24, 2019 at 9:24am
January 24, 2019 at 9:24am
#950339
30 Day Blogging Challenge
PROMPT January 24th
How did you start writing? Did someone urge you to write, or did it come naturally?


I'm not sure if anyone urged me to write. My grandmother was an artist and poet. She always encouraged me to express myself creatively. I spent a great deal of time with her when I was growing up. I remember reading stories to her, she was always willing to listen to those early, awkward stories when I was finding my "voice". I wrote really terrible songs too, the corny and anxiety-riddled tween variety, in multi-colored spiral notebooks I hid under my bed. I seemed to be always writing something from very early on. It felt natural for me. I felt that whatever drew my grandmother to canvas and oil paint, also drew me to words.

I wrote all through high school, fell in love with the ability to express myself with words. I took a creative writing course in high school that was taught by the writer Wally Lamb. Wally Lamb ran the Creative Writing program at my high school, that was until Oprah selected his freshman novel, "She's Come Undone" for her book club. He told us the incredible story about getting the phone call that changed his life and started his career as a novelist. We had a first row seat to his transformation into famous, best selling author. I learned so much from him in that class and watching his success happen in real time was so fascinating. I still remember the day he collected our assignments and paged through them slowly until he selected mine to read aloud from. It was such a moment of validation for me, that someone with his talent thought my work was worthy of the attention.

It wasn't until college that writing truly became more than a passion. I discovered that I didn't just love to write but that I needed to write. It became my way of dealing with life, with trauma and pain and loss. My grandfather committed suicide while I was away at school. The tragedy left me guilt-stricken and started the domino effect of seismic charges that would devastate my family. I wrote through that time, finding a remarkable peace from releasing my pain onto paper. It was cathartic, it was agonizing, but it was also healing. I began to write more compulsively. It was my therapy. It was what kept me anchored. My writing took a darker turn, reflective of things I kept inside, the demons and impulses I battled with. I found I could no longer let my grandmother read my work...in fact, I became very much a closeted writer.

There have been difficult times in my life. I have remained a loyal writer throughout and I credit the craft with having saved me at several points when it could have gone another way. Writing has seemed to always pull me back from the brink. When I became a mother, I found a new muse. For the first time in my life, my muse was about light and promise not pain, or rage or loss. My daughter, growing inside me, awakened a new voice and it changed everything. It inspired me to really open the doors and start pursuing writing more seriously. I've been free of the closet ever since.

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