Tuesday, July 30, 2013

Hearken PROLOGUE!!!!!!!!

13 comments

Due to unforeseen circumstances (namely sleeping ALL DAY) yesterday, I must ask for your forgiveness in not allowing you to bask in the awesomeness that is the prologue for Hearken until today!  Hopefully after you read it you'll be so excited about the book, you'll forget all about my inability to post things when I say I'm going to!!

ENJOY!!! 

Prologue

                Crystalline beams of light streamed down from the ominous full moon above; illuminating the tense battle of wills unfolding far below. The rolling waves stilled their relentless cadence as the warm wind stalled over the sand dunes.  A blanket of apprehension settled upon the landscape as every starfish, horseshoe crab, and seagull held their collective breaths.  Among the people gathered, one figure in particular commanded the attention of the lustrous moon rays more than any other.  Beneath her steely exterior, a sinister inferno began to coil and writhe; fueling the powerful essence she harbored within.  The bitter taste of hatred pooled in her mouth at the sight of her own flesh and blood defending the abomination of nature he had christened Anastasia.  Her rapid heartbeat pulsed with the promise of ridding this world of such a traitor.  As the cool waves of essence slithered toward her tingling fingers, she looked on as Keto commanded his attention.
                “You will not take her!” Peleus roared.  His fragile body shuddered with his own labored breathing as he attempted to shield his daughter from Keto’s building wrath. 
                “Fool,” Keto cackled at him with dark amusement.  Her emerald eyes flashed beneath dark brown hair overflowing with green highlights.  The sand beneath her feet shifted and boiled as it struggled to absorb the amplified presence she radiated.  With an insidious glance, Keto swiftly conveyed a silent message to her ally.  The corners of Selene’s mouth twitched in anticipation as she acknowledged Keto’s unwavering loyalty with a slight nod.  It had been decided many moons ago that Selene would possess sole jurisdiction over her son’s damned soul.  She slowly trained her cunning, silver eyes onto the rotten fruit of her loins. 
                His muted gray eyes had once shone silver with his Aura ancestry.  Now they softened momentarily before seizing up with defiance as his thoughts registered her deadly intention.  She had witnessed this reaction more times than she could count.  And for good reason.  As her direct descendent, Peleus knew all too well the consequences of challenging his mother.  His first punishment had been swift and severe; followed by absolute banishment.  However the iron grasp that Thetis had on his every waking thought had refused to relent.  Selene could only stand watch as Peleus continued down his path of betrayal, eventually marrying his meddling sea witch and sealing his doomed fate.
                Seventeen years ago, she had sensed the exact moment when he committed the highest form of betrayal.  Just as the first time, she felt a portion of her being as it soundlessly withered and disintegrated into the recesses of her soul.  She could feel the purity of her brethren shrivel as the unborn fetus was formed; a mutt of a creature harboring her precious Aura essence.  An essence forever compromised by the flaccid and decrepit lineage of the Daughters of the Sea.  The moon goddess had fought long and hard to protect the very essence he continued to foolishly abandon.  Vehemence continued to simmer within, and she had resolved to rectify the situation as quickly as possible.  Creating an alliance with Keto proved much easier than expected.  Her long buried resentment fumed below the surface, and she had been all too willing to strike out at her former leader and sister, the beloved Thetis.
                Unfortunately, the death of Thetis at the hands of Keto only succeeded in fueling Selene’s contempt.  The overwhelming regret at affording the sea goddess’s demise to someone else consumed her mind.  Once she had Peleus within her grasp once more, she’d had every intention of killing him…but chose imprisonment instead.   Astonishing to even her, an inner struggle commenced within while she spent year after year paralyzed by indecision.   No matter the intensity of her hatred and desire for revenge, she was unable to take the life of her only son.  Recently, that inner turmoil was abruptly overshadowed by the knowledge that the prophesized Anastasia had indeed returned.  
                Forcing her thoughts back to the present, her callous gaze focused in on her wretched son and granddaughter now standing before her.  Her previous indecision dissolved into a boiling black cloud of hatred, and any remaining hesitation was pushed aside as she lifted her arm.
                “No!” Anastasia screamed in disbelief as a thin line of silver energy fueled by the moon above exploded from Selene’s fingertips; piercing his chest.  When the last evidence of life faded from his crippled form, Selene sighed deeply and let her head fall back.  She stared at the bright orb hanging above her with apathy.  Such a pity.  At one time she had grand aspirations for her son.
                As a boy he showed incessant determination, continuous strength, and the leadership skills expected of a direct descendent of the moon goddess.  The Auras idolized him and showered him with unabated worship.  She had bestowed power, prestige, and most importantly, her essence upon her only son.  In return she was gifted abandonment, cunning deceit, and an unending supply of betrayal.
                “Dad, no!” Anastasia collapsed on top of her father as she visibly shook with grief.  Selene rolled her eyes at the sickening farewell scene before her.  The wretched mutt should thank her for affording her even a couple days with Peleus.  How could she be capable of even an ounce of grief?  She knew nothing of true loss. 
                Before Selene could take Anastasia’s life out of sheer annoyance, Keto stepped over the unmoving form of Peleus and rested her hands on her hips; a finger tapping impatiently. As Anastasia’s tear stained face hardened and she began to speak, Keto’s terse expression froze as if she’d been turned to stone.  As the color drained from her face, Selene could taste the uncertainty and confusion flowing from her as the girl spoke with a wisdom beyond her years.
                “…and power must be used to protect and nurture those who depend on you.  Those are the qualities our Order covets in a leader.”
                As her words hung precariously in the cool, night air, a paralyzed Keto was unable to speak.  She simply stared numbly into Anastasia’s turquoise eyes; brimming with conviction.  Chagrin washed over the moon goddess as Keto actually allowed the mutt to stand.
                “Finish her off!” Nadia screeched at her, and stomped the sand impatiently.
                “Thetis…?” Keto whispered in disbelief.  With her gaze still fixed on Anastasia, she was oblivious to Nadia’s growing hysteria.  Selene rolled her eyes once more at Keto’s infinite ignorance.  It was simply more evidence that proved the goddesses of the sea were irrevocably flawed by weakness.  She resolved herself to the fact that if she wanted something done, she’d have to do it herself.
                “What are you waiting for?” Nadia growled.  With madness blazing in her golden eyes, she appeared behind Anastasia and drove a dagger into her back.   Keto stumbled backwards and continued to gawk with disbelieving eyes at the limp body now lying before her in the sand.
                “You’re welcome,” Nadia hissed at Keto.  Selene turned as three figures emerged from the sand dunes several yards away.  The first two she recognized as descendents of Hecate - true witches of the Underworld.  The third’s appearance was indistinct as it blurred and shifted.  The rich auburn hair blowing across her shoulders shivered and blinked into a blonde so pale, it blended with the moon rays shining on it from above.  Blazing blue eyes caught Selene’s and recognition hit like a tidal wave.
                Amphitrite.  An Amphitrite currently shrouded in secrecy.  Unfortunately for her, Selene was able to see straight through her well-built illusion.  What reason could she possibly have to shroud her appearance?  Curiosity and mistrust twisted Selene’s features as she observed Amphitrite unleash a stream of blue energy at Keto, who immediately woke from her bewildered trance.  A slow, menacing smile lifted the corners of Keto’s glowing eyes as she winked at her ex-sister.   Also not fooled by the loosely worn veil, she effortlessly deflected the attack with a flick of the wrist.
                At that moment, three young Tydes followed their elders onto the beach.  Their determined expressions gave way to alarm as they surveyed the chaos unfolding before them.  With the expertise only a centuries old goddess could have, Selene turned her attention to the Warriors of Luna - her ten protectors obediently awaiting her command.  Her gaze met those of Thalia and Bronson, her two strongest warriors, and she swiftly planted her orders into their thoughts.  As they walked up the beach toward the three Tydes, she commanded the others to descend upon the two witches who were already struggling against the much more powerful Keto and Nadia.
                A blinding flash of light out of the corner of her eye gave Selene pause, and she swung around ready to fight.  Her thoughts stilled and her blood cooled as her own moon essence spoke to her from across the beach.  When she identified the source, her entire world narrowed and pulsed with renewed rage.  She watched with casual indifference as her warriors were easily thrown to the sand like rag dolls.  She gave no thought to the fate of her warriors as she considered the drastic turn of events currently glaring back at her.  With her Tyde friends safely reunited on the dunes, a very much alive Anastasia slowly twisted around.
                Her pivotal transformation became exceedingly obvious as her now silver-blue eyes stalled on Selene before finding their final destination in Keto.  An undeniable presence, suffocating as an avalanche, traveled across the sand and slammed into the moon goddess.  A streak of panic climbed up her spine as she glimpsed the necklace dangling from the girl’s neck.  A necklace she believed had been destroyed…the orb that had once belonged to Peleus.  As it rested against Anastasia’s now shimmering skin, the evidence was mounting:  the unthinkable had indeed occurred. 
                Selene faintly registered the sound of someone shrieking at her, but nothing could steal her attention from the blasphemy striding towards them with a knowing, confident smile.  With each step Anastasia took, the remaining protectors, along with Keto’s Sirens, were rendered helpless by a cloud of bright blue energy.
                “Looks like this won’t be as easy as you thought, Keto.”  Anastasia’s even tone and strong stance was further proof that she was no longer a meager descendent.
                “Nice work, Pasha.”  Selene’s attention slid to the Prime of the Sons as he took his place next to Anastasia, greatly favoring his left leg.  With the snap of his fingers, the beach erupted into violence, followed quickly by inevitable carnage. 
                Rage and anger solidified into something infinitely darker as Selene veiled herself and crept back into the shadows.  Her eyes flitted upwards to the beacon of light hanging in the sky, now mocking her with its disloyalty and power.  She hadn’t expected this.  She hadn’t prepared for the events that transpired mere moments ago.  For the first time in history, the heavy hand of fate had gifted a Chosen one her destiny months before the age of reckoning.  Selene knew this could only mean one thing.  She would need a much larger force to counter fate’s transgressions.  And if fate wanted a war…a war Selene would deliver. 
               
               
               
                  
               
               

Monday, July 22, 2013

World War Z, X, and F

10 comments
Just to let you guys in on an inner struggle I have, I thought I'd pour my heart out on the internet.  I have a good feeling many, many other authors feel this way, but there are many days I get extremely overwelmed.  Not so much about the actual writing part - but everything else that comes along with it!  Social media, marketing, making connections, making plans, keeping up with sales, expenses, and my to do list. 

I find myself constantly having to step back and ask myself - what is the #1 thing I want to get out of this whole author thing?  Because it's easy to take things for granted and compare yourself against everyone else (which you'll never measure up to in your own mind) and sink lower and lower until you're floating down the cry-me-a-river river without a paddle - sitting in a stinkin pile of your own self-pity.  Believe me, it's not a pretty place to be.  Yet I find myself on the edge of the cliff, peering over and wondering why I'm still climbing upward when I could just let go and fall into the abyss with no effort whatsoever.

But then I remember, this never and still isn't about 'winning' or 'money' or the number of likes I have on facebook or how many conferences I can go to.  It's much, much more personal than that.  Therein lies my problem.  Writing for me is such a release; a journey to a place inside my heart where I can't be touched by the outside world.  A place no one can ever take away from me and then sharing that place with my readers in the form of stories.  That's what it's about for me.  I'm not good at deadlines.  I'm not good at writing challenges or announcing my word count every day.  I wish I could be more like that, but my inner Gollum comes out and my preeeecious (aka: anything I write) becomes so important to me I selfishly hoard it and live in it and do the backstroke in it for weeks before I want anyone else to know about it. 

I have moments of self-doubt because regardless of my writing abilities, if I don't market myself correctly or enough, I won't progress in the industry like I hope to.  So the two sides of me are constantly in a battle of wills - one telling me to meditate and let my mind wander so those creative juices have somewhere to flow.  The other screaming at me to get on facebook! tweet on twitter! make some bookmarks! share some links! make some pretty pictures to share on said twitter and facebook!! make a storyboard on Pinterest! research book events! read other authors' blogs!  That nails-on-a-chalkboard voice (whom I picture as Betty White which raises the odd factor even further) pushes me until I'm one panic attack away from a straight jacket.  So until I can find that healthy balance, I'll likely regurgitate my worries, doubts, and inner nuclear wars for you fine people to read. 

How'd you come up with that, KDay??

10 comments
Let's play a little game.  A little game where I give you all the answers and you sit back and enjoy!  Box that up and sell it in your stores, Hasbro.  Unfortunately I haven't come up with a Shoots & Ladders game based on Daughters of the Sea (Shrouds & Reveries?), but I have realized this brain of mine has a way of sucking inspiration out of anything and everything I hear, see, feel, taste, or dream up in my sleep.  I just chose a character's name (who will be introduced in Hearken) from a random rap song on the radio while driving my car.  I heard the name and only had enough time to think "Aha!" before a full fledged conversation sprouted out of nowhere and I had half a chapter written in my head.  It's a miracle I still have the ability to be a functioning part of society, really.  It's hard to concentrate on cooking, checking out at target, or driving down the road when the fictional characters living in your head suddenly shove a new scene in your face.



So anyway, I'll leave my embarassing, public conversations I have with the people in my head for a different post.  I've listed out some of the settings, characters, names, and other random tid-bits from the books and where I got them from!  Have something else you want to know about?  Leave a comment with your question!

Finn's last name: Morrison
Based on Jim Morrison's last name from the The Doors.  That dude proved genius can come from a big slice of crazy with a scoop of borderline personality disorder.

Anastasia's nickname: Stasia
A couple years back, I was introduced to a friend of a friend's sister who's name was Stasia (short for Anastasia).  She was actually a twin and they were in fact Greek!  For some reason, her name stuck with me and it just seemed perfect for my heroine!  here's a pic (in true stalker fashion)


Nadia's name
A gymnast named Nadia Comaneci was an incredible gymnast in the late 70's that had always fascinated me me while I was taking gymnastics (way back in the day).  Although I didn't actually get to see her compete (I wasn't born until '78) she was still a huge inspiration to me.  Much shorter than most girls (like me), she looked much younger (like me) and was very shy (like me) but she became a completely different person once she hit the spotlight - consequently capturing all of her dreams.  That slight transformation taught me a number of things I still keep with me today.



Nicolet's name
My younger brother's fiance's name.  I'm not even sure they'd been together more than a couple months when I saw her name on facebook in the caption of a picture - loved it and had to use it.
I'd put a picture of her, but she is extremely talented in making sure there are no pictures of her on the internet... doesn't she know people want to stalk her!? 

Cyrpus:
The island where my editor/bff's family originated and still live. It had everything I needed for a setting!
Phoebe's nail polish addiction
Based completely on my own irrational, pointless nail polish addiction.

Finn's 'last supper' food choices
Most of them were based on my husbands favorite foods.

Tina's name
Stacy's sister who actually lives on Cyprus's name is Tina!  She's greek, beautiful and was the perfect muse.


Unfortunately most of her posts read like this...  And I can't speak Greek...


Stasia's surname at birth: Theophanides
Stacy's maiden name

Okay that's all for now!  I'd love to hear any specific questions if you have them!  I'll answer anything!  Well almost anything...


Thursday, July 18, 2013

You Might Be A Southern Belle If...

4 comments

In honor of the Southern Author Event next year in Greenville, NC that I am out-of-my-mind-excited about I decided to jot down a few things that scream "I'm a GRITS!!"  No, not the delectable corn-based breakfast option found in every kitchen below the Mason Dixon line, but Girls Raised In The South!  Also known as southern belles. 

Now you may be asking yourself - how do I know if I'm a southern belle?  First of all - if you're questioning your southern belle-ism, then you probably need to brush up on your southern belle etiquette.  So, check out my Top 25 "You might be a southern belle if you:" list!

You might be a southern belle if you:
1. Were told every day of your childhood to ‘act like a young lady’
2. Know where ‘over yonder’ is.
3. Have a high appreciation for pearls and sundresses
4. Your middle name is Anne, Grace, or Lynn
5. Know how to use ‘bless her heart’ in twelve different contexts. 
6. Want a guy who goes hunting with your daddy and brings flowers for your mama.
7. Have shot a potato gun
8. Understand the importance of a good pedicure
9. Calculate distance in minutes, not miles.
10. Have perfected the art of being a damsel in distress to get what you want
11. Have been given a handmade blanket.  Every Christmas.
12. Family reunions require renting out a park
13. Know there is no such thing as ‘tea’.  It is and has always been ‘sweet tea’. Don’t get it twisted.
14. Spend all week putting together your GameDay outfit.
15. Own something Vera Bradley
16. Don’t get mad, you get even
17. Always ready to entertain and all parties must be themed or they aren’t worth having.
18. Own a pair of cowgirl boots for each day of the week
19. Can drive a stick shift, change a tire, and do a burn out…in heels.
20. Know every word to Sweet Home Alabama
21. Made lightning bug earrings
22. Have five generations worth of silver
23. Know what ‘silver’ is
24. Know you're worth waiting for.
25. Believe the war’s not over…it’s just halftime.

Have any to add to the list?  Leave a comment and let me know!

Monday, July 15, 2013

The Great Beach Escape: Guinness, Shark-Infested Water, and Shrimp Kabobs

0 comments
Sometimes the universe sits back and allows you to take the reins; giving us the chance to f*ck things up royally or bask in the glory of our successes.  And then sometimes the universe rubs its hands together, lets loose an evil, maniacal guffaw, and creates its own agenda.  Several different words might be popping into your thoughts right now - karma, yin & yang, bacon.  But, the universe doesn’t fall under the veils of evil or good - it just…is.  It’s main driving force? Balance. 
Last week, I could feel a ‘shift’ coming.  I’ve felt it every time the course of my life switched directions - oddly enough it’s only for good things.  Any horrible, soul-destroying changes tend to sneak up on me and pounce when I’m least expecting it.  This time I felt it when I was typing away 2 days before we left for the beach.  I even almost wrote a blog about it!  And then I remembered how completely RIDICULOUS it sounded to say *in my best stoner voice*:“Did anyone else just feel that cosmic shift, cause it totally just happened.”  So instead, I tucked it away in the recesses of my mind and looked ahead to a week at the beach!  (Writing 101: that was foreshadowing)
So what, you say, does this have to do with Guinness, Shark Infested Water, and Shrimp Kabobs?  Everything.  Let’s begin from the very moment we left Mooresville -er-tried to leave Mooresville.  Math has never been my strong suit; however I learned a very important equation on that fateful Sunday:
(Bungee cords + stubbornness) - 4 tie down points / (insufficient rack width + wind velocity)*70mph = 1 rogue orange kayak bouncing down I-485 as cars behind us bob and weave.    
   
 
This little incident bought Stacy and Brian *in best announcer voice* “A round trip ticket to the booming metropolis of Kannapolis, NC!!” where five Yak Straps lay in wait amongst the other items in their garage.  After an hour of avoiding eye-contact with each passer-byer trying to figure out why we were standing on the side of the road and one knee-slapping story about a trailer gone wild (courtesy of B-Ri), we continued on our journey to the coast. 
Later that night, our bags were unpacked and hopes were high for the week ahead.  After a glorious Monday of immersing ourselves in the sand, sun, and surf of Oak Island, we headed out to a place that always seems to welcome my restless soul with open arms - Bald Head Island.  
A packed ferry of sun-bronzed teenagers and children delirious with the expectation of a new adventure took us across the Cape Fear river toward the island.  The water either resembled a nice sizzling glass of Pepsi or an overflowing glass of Guinness.  The unprecedented amounts of rains NC has been muted with appeared to drain from every part of the state - creating a mass exodus of dark brown, frothy river water into the unsuspecting Atlantic Ocean.  This is when I imagine a school of Nemo type fish bumping in to one another - blinded by the dingy run-off or a great white shark becoming disoriented and jumping onto the ferry to eat us all in a fit of rage…  But I digress.
If you’ve delved into the Daughters of the Sea series, you’ll also recognize Bald Head as the main setting of the books.   There is a reason for that.  Seemingly oblivious to the magnificent wonder they currently stand on; the island-goers hop on golf carts bound for vacation homes or gather up their families for a journey across the island towards the awe-inspiring expanse of sand we call Cape Fear.  To me, the absense of car motors, the brooding trees stretching their mangled limbs above the golf-cart sized roads, and sounds of birds and cicadas lessens the reality based mass of barbed-wire encircling my heart.  Its secluded, unspoiled landscape speaks to me intimately and brings out the contentment I crave in my life.  Now, back to the books.  The photos below are from our visit to the cape and how it relates to the book.
 
From this viewpoint, we can see the Cape Fear's point as it stretches out into the Atlantic Ocean.  This is where the bonfire was held as well as the setting for a very important scene for Stasia and Finn. *wink, wink*
Stasia sat near a sand dune just like this one while waiting for Finn to arrive at the Cape.
 
From this side of the Cape, the Frying Pan Shoals are easily seen by way of the rough waves farther out in the ocean.  The shoals are a compilation of sand pushed into an massive underwater speed bump by the Atlantic Ocean and the Cape Fear river as they meet. 
A closer look at the waves kicked up by the invisible shoals beneath the water.  Hundreds of ships failed to see the warning signs - resulting in their hulls running aground and ultimately sinking the ship...inducting this area as part of the Graveyard of the Atlantic. 
------------------------------------
As we rode the ferry back to Southport and drove back to Oak Island, I was completely unaware of the cosmic shift heading my way.  (Writing 101: More foreshadowing and building of suspense)
Have you ever felt like there’s a dark cloud of doom & gloom following your every move - itching for the right moment to destroy all things good in your life and reality as you know it?  If you do, it means at some point (most likely during those impressionable childhood years) that really DID happen and now you are simply waiting for the inevitable karma fairy to unleash her wrath upon your life once more. 
One karma fairy is enough to drive anyone insane, but I’ve got four.  That wasn’t a typo, people.  I said FOUR.  Think of my life as four separate lives - intertwining within my own reality but never mixing or touching in an effort to thwart any diabolical plans the karma fairy may have.  My four separate lives which consequently result in a varying of Kristens could be categorized as Mom’s house, Dad’s house, Friends/School, Spiritual.  You see, in my experience, the mixing of those four lives results in the implosion of all things Kristen.  To clarify a bit more, by ‘lives’ I mean mixing the actual people within each, my personality/belief system resulting from each, and the mental struggles/issues that have come out of each.  The imploding of Kristens is not very fun and in the past has not proved very well for my mental stability.
Through my mind’s expert level of compartmentalization, I’ve been able to grow and deal with things and become the person I ultimately wanted to be.  On the flip side, the ability to re-join those separate lives was lost to me.  As it stands today, I don’t need the defense mechanism of compartmentalization.  Unfortunately, Barnes and Noble doesn’t have a self-help book detailing the steps to take.  Enter the universe.  That tricksy false universe that thinks it’s so smart. 
Long story short, my four lives - complete with the same people, struggles, and doubts came crashing back together into one massive supernova contained on a small island in the Atlantic.  I learned people are capable of forgiveness, I’m stronger than I realized, and the shattered shards of me create an even brighter light once I give them the opportunity to shine as one.  There were no soul implosions, suicide attempts, or mass rejections followed by a chorus of jeering.  This new ‘whole’ Kristen will take me a while to get used to, but something is wonderfully uncomfortable about this newfound outlook on myself and my past lives.  Not to mention I was able to see some very important people I hadn't seen in a long time...
 
  
 

 
The universe made sure I had the people with me that had the ability to keep me strong and stable no matter how many earthquakes and tsunamis came my way.  
 
Even at the age of 34, I love learning new things and unfortunately for my love/hate relationship with man-eating sharks, I feel at home in the ocean.  Nothing like an afternoon paddleboard lesson to shake up your courage and refuel the art of prayer…
After wading out past waist-deep breakers, I had to dive under the larger ones that pummeled us each step of the way.  The momentum of the water washing over me and the calm silence of being beneath the water soothed my thoughts and had my heart singing.  The gory thoughts of my leg being eaten off by a 10ft great white shark was happily replaced with the concentration and bravery to hop on a paddleboard atop some of the harshest surf I’d ever seen.  At least if I was standing on the paddleboard I wasn’t dangling a steak the size of my leg, awaiting my bloody demise at the teeth of a shark.  Or atleast that’s what I told myself.  After three tries I was successfully standing up on my own and actually remaining that way for the majority of 10 seconds.  In all the anticipation it had completely slipped my mind that a fair amount of exercise and exertion would be needed to pull paddleboarding up.  Once my arms had turned to jelly and showed no signs of being able to pull me up on to the board again, I stepped aside for my husband and little brother to give it a shot.  I couldn’t decide if it was more fun falling off the board myself or laughing at them tumbling towards the water with the grace of an elephant. 
Later that night, while getting ready for dinner I overheard the news and stopped in my tracks at the words ‘shark attack’.  Both eyes now fixed on the television, I read the headline at the bottom of the screen.  ‘Shark Attack on Holden Beach’  Now for those of you who aren’t familiar with the area, Holden Beach is roughly 2 miles away (by water) from the very spot we were gleefully and paddle boarding in only hours earlier.  After I picked up my stomach from the ground and made myself take a breath, I made sure to share my terror with the rest of our group and watched their jaws hit the ground.  Maybe that slimy thing that rubbed up against Matt’s leg wasn’t a fish after all….
Several more beach days, a visit to the aquarium, I sat down in anticipation of selling and signing books at the signing on Saturday.  I was still rearranging my way of thinking and letting go of old beliefs.  I also felt strangely lighter.  You wouldn’t believe how exhausting it is to juggle four different versions of yourself all of the time.  I don’t want you to think I came around to this conclusion years ago.  Oh no - I figured all of this out while lying in bed last Thursday night.  Hindsight really is 20/20. 
After a successful book signing, we prepped for the neighborhood cookout which was being held at the coffee shop at 7pm.  My older brother the coffee genius/paddleboard & surfing expert/musician/five star cook single-handedly pulled off the best 6 course meal I’ve ever had.  Several others brought desserts and some shrimp and grits that would rival any restaurant in Charleston, SC!  But for the main courses of fish, shrimp kabobs, and veggie kabobs, he showed just how good of a cook he really is!







So if you're still with me...or if you've passed out from boredom - drool pulling beneath your snoring mouth onto your keyboard - thank you for going on this journey with me!  It won't be slowing down anytime soon and I can't wait to see what craziness the universe throws at me next.








 

 

 

 

 

Friday, July 5, 2013

UtopYA: Growing Pains of a Free Spirit

1 comments
What they say about growing pains is true.  The adolescent body stretches upward in an effort to reach its full potential - a healthy, sturdy miracle of bones, muscle, and blood.  This ever so slight stretching of cells requires a steady stream of unabated persistance laced with strands of fearless indiscretion.  But what happens when its our mind growing?  Our hearts?  Our souls?  Can we feel it?  Does it hurt?  Is there a slight tugging in the pit of your stomach that signals a shift in your being?  If you dig deep and allow your soul to speak to you - really speak to you - you can feel it.  You can hear the chime of your heartstrings as they become taut with the pressure of true growth.



For me this chiming of heartstrings signals a piece of myself shifting and morphing into something brighter, stronger, and wiser.  That chosen piece sheds its skin, giving way to a new beginning.  One armed with hope, contentment, and strength.  Piece by piece the shards of my heart and soul are reborn and given the chance they truly deserve.  This past year I've barely been able to keep up with the constant shfiting and growth within myself.  I've become accustomed to that small vibration in the pit of my stomach thrumming with apprehension and excitement.  It dances joyfully; awaiting the metamorphosis. 



This past weekend was no different.  What, you say, could possibly cause this amount of jubilation and evolution?  UtopYA.  Apart from the amazing people, new information, and all around awesomeness; I experienced acceptance.  Not from the people you think though...  It was slightly disconcerting and far more intimdating to have readers and other authors giddy with excitement at the opportunity to meet me.  But this acceptance was not visible to anyone but me.  The little voice in the back of my mind that enjoys mocking my crazy imagination, dark visions, and endless dreams was quieted for the first time in my life.  It gazed outward - into the eyes of an entire mass of people who share my love of words, who understand why I stay up until 3am to finish writing that last chapter, who can relate to the closeness I feel to my imaginary characters. 



But most importantly I was surrounded by more than 300 people who share my ability to stare fear and self-doubt in the face...and give it the middle finger.  People who never hesitate to push through that fear to acheive their dreams.  I know that sounds hokey and a little dramatic, but there there are the people who talk about chasing your dreams, talk about not giving up, talk about confronting rejection.  And then there are the people that don't give their fears a second glance.  Instead they arm themselves with sarcasm, imaginations, and downright craziness before riding into the abyss.  The difference is the knowledge that the abyss only looks scary from the outside.  It only seems dark from the outside.  Once you take that mental leap and step inside - an entire new world is laid at your calloused, tired feet.



So although I learned priceless knowledge about the industry and promotions and blogs and pricing - I brought home something even better.  The acceptance that I am truly special and there is no one else in this world exactly like me.  No one else who is able to share MY experiences and beliefs through the beautiful art of writing.  No one who knows what I've been storing for years - piece of me waiting for the opportunity to materialize via words.  And I've decided it's time for the world to read them.