Wow I have just realized that I am Far behind on the updates for my page. Since I am not really the blog person I thought I would be, I guess one post a month is ok. I guess, I just can't bring myself to just post random bit of useless chatter. But that's me. I hear some people are quit good at it.
I am very happy with the new wedding bands my husbands ordering. The are handcrafted in Ireland, with "Love now and forever" in Gaelic on it. Very simple but so beautiful. They will be here just in time for Our Anniversary in May.
I have been working on my next book at least two hours of the day. I know that doesn't sound like a lot, but wen your turning research into story line it's quite a bit. Once I start my new job, I will have less time to put forth. But it will still get written.
Blesses Be. Vada

Current Mood: content

Happy I am. My second novel, "The many lives of Amanda Peterson."
Should be in book stores in mid May.

I havent bee keeping my progress posted out of fear of Jinxing it.

The cover is off and should be back any time and the publisher is sending me a bound copy for the next editor. OH very happy day.

' Breaks out in song and Dance'

Entry for December 23, 2006
I had two friends pass away this week. One I knew very well and one I really haven't seen since high school.

James Mashburn was a great friend. I spent a lot of time with him while he was ill working on my first novel. It pains me very much he is gone but I am so glad he is no longer suffering.

Lea Anne Tippet was in my Algebra class in high school. We weren't close but she was my age and it is sad to see some on so young to die.


We never know how long we have in this life. I have lost many firends in my life time, at many stages of my life. Angalie Bare when I was a friend in Elementry in Orlando. She was killed when I was 11. ChiQueta Owens killed herself when we were in Middle School in Orlando. She was 13. Bill Abdelrahman was a friend from Franklin High and bought my oldest sons first pair of socks. He died in 1994. And The most devastating Loss in my life was that off my Beloved "House Monster" as all his friends knew him. Jeff Mac Murray was only 23 when he was taken from us. A hole in my heart that will never heal. A shinning light of all lights. Loved by ever one who knew him. I will not name the rest. But there are so many that have touched my soul and then had to go. I guess when you loose someone new in your life, it makes you think of all the people you have lost that were close to you.

It also reminds you how many people you love, you hope you never have to loose. (Yes Mr Wangs this means you.) Cherish the ones you love. And remember them when they are gone. Life is to short.
Time to post a story.

Current Mood: sad

Still waiting on New York, an agent, a new adventure. And now the second half of my book is finished. True I have minor details to put in and a couple of story twists to tie together, but for the most part, the story line is down and ready for revisions... WOOT!! Next to solidify that Paramount Picture thing and I will be great. Oh yeah Baby!!!
With Thanksgiving well on the way I am happy to say I get to cook the family Turkey this year. And planning on a great squash dish for the little fantastic cousin that doesn't eat meat. It is almost a complete family Holiday. With me and my family, my brother and his family, Rosie and Brandi, Bob and Janet, and the only one missing is my Daddy. Daddy will be moving up and should be here for Christmas, if everything goes well. Most of my whole family will be together. Nothing could be better. For some one who hates to be with family i think I am actually looking forward to this.
Wish me luck with the next book and Happy Holidays to all.

*Hugs*

Lavada

Current Mood: cheerful

It's weird when friends you have know forever stop talking to you. Whether it be your own fault because of the way you pushed them away. The things you said or, something stupid like not being able to see them every day and tell them how fantastic they are.
For me, keeping friends has always been a challenge. I know a few of my friends who I have loved read this journal. I may be bitter, and full of anger, Or even upset I cant talk to you truthfully. But you are still a great person. Just because I can't be there for you right now. ( Maybe not ever). It doesnt mean that you are not a wonderful person capable of great things.
That doesn't mean that I wont write about you in my next book. ;-P

I am not going to say hello after this and want to take back what I have said. I am not going to pretend it never happened. But i do want to tell you, (both of you) that no matter what an old bitter over dramatic queen like me says, you are fantastic.

Be well and my love always.

Current Mood: depressed

I know every one hasn't heard from me in a while. I am well and have been working (as usual). I also spent my 31st birthday at home with my family. (It could have been better).

But all goes well with life and family. The writing is not doing so good. I never have any time to write. But I suppose it is alright.
I will more than enough time after October. Cheers. and blessed be to all.

It is very cool to get back in touch with friends you haven't seen in years. I have just got back in touch with people I havent seen since 7th grade. WOW!! Have they changed. 2 of my friends have Become Drag entertainers, (they look stunning BTW) and lots have moved on to normal lives. Its was good to catch up.
Have a great Day!
Tymora

Current Mood: energetic

To everyone who messaged me or emailed, Thanks for the feed back on the stories. Even thought these are not really what I need to be working on. It is nice to take a break from the 'BIG' project and enjoy the smaller ones.
I have been working like mad getting chapters organized and written. I want everything in this book to be perfect with no errors. I have been working on a cover and several illustrations for the inside. (they may not go in but we shall see.)
This is a big excitement with the novel going my Query letter being sent off today, new chapters finding their places and of course the renovations on the house going wonderfully. Leaving the rest of the house looking like a tornado hit it. (that's not much of a difference from the norm.)

Exciting things are brewing, and I can't wait to ride the tide.

Current Mood: happy

This has not had a trip to Tristen yet and is still basicly a rough draft. So if you see any thing that need correcting let me know.
Tymora


Kelly looked hard at the brown package on the table. In the two years they had been apart, Daniel had not tried to contact her. The separation was so sudden neither one of them had had a chance to gain any closure. This package made her very nervous. She wasn’t sure if she wanted to get her hopes up that he had sent an apology, or have the thing scanned for explosive parts. For the longest time Kelly looked at it.
The card in the package simply said.

A friend of mine found this in the back table of an old coffeehouse. I’m not much of a poetry fan, and then remembered you were. I thought you would like it. Maybe it will help you with your writing. Daniel

The card gave her butterflies as she read it. He had always tried so hard to help her when writers’ block hit her. This time she knew it was bad. Kelly hadn’t written anything in months, and it was starting to depress her.
As she opened the brown wrapping she noticed it was a journal of some kind. The large leather cover was tattered from use and worn from opening and closing it. She opened the dusty cover carefully afraid it would fall apart. The pages inside were covered with poems, incomplete thoughts, pencil sketches, and what seemed to be the beginning of wonderful stories. After each poem or story there was a name, James Byron Thomas.
He was a hopeless romantic, just like her. He sounded wonderfully handsome. The more she read the more she believed he could help her with her lingering writers block. She knew just from his work, he was a beautiful person; she knew she had to meet.


( Read more... )

Current Mood: hopeful

It's good to know that you have friends. It's better to know you have people who care how you feel. Even though you can't be with those friends as much as you would like, It is nice to know they still value you.
I was told once to be careful of who I trust. People will tear at you up with their teeth, she said. I believe her now more than ever. I miss her guidance and her husbands words of wisdom.
But enough sadness. I could say I am still bitter and angry, but I am working past it. I could say I am still sad and betrayed, but what a way to live. I love my husband, and my children and I am happy. My loyalties are at home.

Sometimes I wish people who wish to hurt and be negative to make themselves look better to others, would stop and think before they talk. Sometimes a simple I am sorry does not help to take away the hurt that can be spread.

Most things that change will never go back to the way we wish them to be. We except it and move on. But we carry those memories in our hearts. And keep them and the people we create them with there. Weither it is good or bad. This is what makes us straonger and helps us become the people we want to be.
I hope, dream, live and love with all my memories leading my heart to places that were always possible but just out of reach.

Now that I am done being negative my self, Time to write a story.

Current Mood: exhausted

I know that not a lot of people liked Steve Irwin. But, I for one found him amazing. His live for life and nature is what most people strive to have. He still saw the magic in everything around him. His documentaries and he as a wonderful person will be missed, by me and much of the world.

My thoughts and prayers are with his family.

Current Mood: sad

Any one who knows me knows I work way too many jobs. I have worked for the Same man for 6 almost & years. I quit, I go back part time to help him out and then poof Im back working 6 to 7 days a week for him.

I want to complain about how unfair he is, how wrong I think he can be, or even that he is pig headed and un reasonable. But the fact is I love him to death, and he makes me crazy.

I guess I am just spoiled. I really am lucky to work for him. But Sometimes I just wish he would go play golf because he just makes situations worse.

Oh groan, and moan. I have a great job and I do love the family I work for. I really can't complain, so forget I mentioned it.

Current Mood: cranky

Most girls know what they want to be by the time they are 12 years old. I started writing by the 8th grade. I suppose that is when I had decided what I wanted to be. My mother encouraged me a great deal. Reading everything I wrote. Sending poems to the newspaper to be published. Even hanging clippings up at work for all her clients to read.
I don't think I have ever given her enough credit for what she had to endure from me when I was younger. I was not very nice to her. I can only hope that I am better to her now.

These are poems I wrote in my 8th and 9th grade classes.


"A Spirit Named Wolf"


As I sit alone on the countryside, gazing from under my cap.
With stars that shine big and bright, and a wood drum in my lap.

Tapping a soft song on my drum, from my heart comes this beat.
The cool July wind blows swift and sweet.

A dark wolf crosses my path, black with one white foot.
It looks like a white stocking on a man made of soot.

The wolf runs by the river, off with the beat off my drum.
With the diamond water sparkling, to a song from off my tongue.

Along the cool summer wind, the large moon shines pale blue.
There dances a spirit named wolf, and sings a heart that true.


SNOW
My gentle fear is growing, but does not melt the snow.
Your love for me is going, and my courage to live is low.
Again I long to see you, to feel your touch to mine.
I want to tell you something sweet, something very kind.
I’m sorry I had to leave you, I didn’t want to go.
But darling please believe, you memory melts the snow.





Gentle Whispers

Smiling at me gently, washing my fears away.
Saying “I love you dearly” or “I’ll see you again someday.”
Love holds only heartbreak, We kiss as we say good-bye.
This will be the end, but we’ll always have this night.
Our love was torn away, yet I know one thing to be true.
One day we will meet again to touch and say
“I love you.”


Bedroom eyes


Loving eyes, warm dark skin.
Dark black hair, bright smiles again.

His arms around me, in loving caress.
I'm loving every moment, yes he is the best

In loving arms he's carrying me,
out to the beach, down by the sea.

Laying me back, ever so gently down.
Kissing my neck without fret or frown.

Here on the beach, the time is right.
Here on the beach making love all night.

All night long, living in sin.
A gentle passion burns within.

Forever my love I'll see you this way.
Here in my heart you'll always stay.



march, 1989

Yes I was far too advanced in my ways of thinking.

Current Mood: pensive

I have run out of things to say. So until I have something new and creative to rant about I have began to post my poetry. I'm posting random works from all periods of my life. I may post two at a time, I am not sure. Depends largely on my mood, and how many Dr. Who episodes I have watched that day. Everyone who knows me well knows knows how crazy I am over the Doctor. (And of course Gerard Butler- full body shiver.)

Secret Love

Hello, my secret love,
I’ve been dreaming of you again.
The way you say hello.
Your fire that burns within.
To see you standing there,
after being apart so long.
Your touch still soft and warm,
I didn’t love while you were gone.

I would sit up on the beach,
my feet in the foaming tide.
Wish all night on every star,
you were back by my side.
I love the way you look at me,
capturing me with your eyes.
Your long loving stares,
darker than the midnight sky.
I would tell you, I Love You,
but don’t want to be a fool.
For love is very blind,
and passions a sharpened tool.

But let’s say this passion,
dies down or even ends.
Once we have be lovers,
do you think we could still be friends?
Once we’ve gone forward,
I’m afraid there’s no way back.
If our love becomes no more,
our friendships lost its tracks.
I’ll wait till then to worry,
right now I live for this.
The moments when our eyes meet.
and every long awaited kiss.


But not all my poems are romantic. I am not always happy, not always kind, sometimes I am not even nice. But one thing I am consistently is honest. Honest about my love for people. Honest on how I feel at the moment, even though it tends to change. And honest about being bitter. It is odd how one conversation can change your whole mood, good or bad.

Bitter Haunting's
With every day the moon grows full, yet my lonesome heart grows empty.
I have lost the desire for love, that I have fought to always be with me.

I have buried the feeling I once expressed. I have turned blind to all my wanting.
In loving you I have desperately failed, leaving only this bitter haunting.

I spend my nights with passing spirits, left from happier memories.
I try to forget your handsome face, alas its all I see.

I stay away ashamed and lost, I have prayed to forget I love you.
I have dismissed my last hopeful thought, that you might love me too.

I would rather die utterly alone, then continue to hide how I feel.
I've been hiding from you since the day, you said our love would never be real.

Current Mood: sleepy

Lying in your bed,
It smells so good to me.
Putting your pillow on my face,
Breathing in so deeply.
The scent of you reminds me,
Of the night you held me close.
I’ll never feel it again.
It’s your caress I've miss the most.

I was wrapped so much in thought,
Unaware of things around me.
I was there to see your roommate,
Sneaking in here silently.
Lying on your bed wondering,
If loving you was a sin.
I didn’t see you standing there,
I didn’t hear you come in.

My heart exploded wildly,
The pounding too much to handle.
You climbed on the bed next to me,
Lighting a fragrant candle.
“Why are you in here?” you said.
You weren’t harsh, you said it softly,
I realized I was shaking,
I fell silent instantly.

“I think I know already,
Your silence does you no good.”
I wanted to get up and run,
Not knowing if I could.
“Well if you wish stay a while,”
You reached your arm across me.
Putting my arms around your neck,
I kissed you passionately.

Love was not the reason,
Nor was it my motivation.
But if you wished I’d make love to you,
Without the slightest hesitation.
I looked into your big bright eyes,
Your hair was down and wet.
You lifted up and smiled,
I whispered “Don’t go yet.”

The shaking didn’t stop,
As you came down to kiss me again.
The heat from your body was intense,
It burned to touch your skin.
After unbuttoning my blouse,
You threw it off my chest.
Kissing my neck then going down,
You put my senses to the test.

“Do you want me to stop?” you whispered,
As your hand unzipped my skirt.
“If I can’t have you right now,
My feelings won’t be hurt,”
I held your chin in my hand
And brought your eyes to mine.
“We always stop here it seems,
I’d like to finish this time.”

You laid me back on the bed,
Caressing all of me lovingly
The night we shared making love,
Won’t be forgotten easily.

Current Mood: thoughtful

I am so happy. I am back to writing the same as my dear sweet friend. My husband is editing all my stories. It is something that he and I can do together besides play Lord Of The Rings, or SC2.

Even connected with a friend I didn't think was in my life anymore. Things are coming together. The only thing I need now is to find an agent to help me become every bit the writer I want to be.

My book is almost done revising. But it the new additions to my newest novel are going far slow. As much as I try to focus , I can't seem to keep my mind straight on my work. To many stimulants in the air. It feels like a storm is coming. The leaves on the road to where I work are littered with trees already changing colors. Brilliant reds, golds and browns spotting in the bright greens. The trees think it's fall already. Its not. It's still too hot. Something is wrong with the world today.

Maybe tomorrow will be better.
I hope my mood improves.

Current Mood: distressed

Sometimes I feel the world is dull, dark, cloudy place in which it is easier to hid than to actually live. I had begun today thinking this way. I lay in my cover wrapped in silence and warmth begging the alarm clock not to sound. I wanted to stay nestled in my bed, half asleep and forget the world which was about to rudely beckon me to get up and go to work. All my efforts to stay in bed for the day were met with the heartbreaking sound buzzing from the clock I myself set the night before.

This was going to be a bad day.

To my surprise no one noticed a uninterested employee sulking in almost a half hour late. The restaurant was not really busy. The waitstaff prattled on about there week and each other loudly not caring really who hard. mean while as always the people in the dinning room ate their food and said not one word about the overheard conversations from the kitchen staff. Ahhh life at the Fireside. My home. The only place I can say that I have ever truly loved and hated at the same time.
My first table of the day changed not only my mood. but my whole heart to how the day was turning out. That first couple, those first hugs, they were heavenly.( and yes I hug most of my customers.)
My second table was not so interesting. Any man who degrades his wife and makes his child cry in the middle of a dinning room full of people needs to have something spilled in his lap. I wish now I had done it.
My third table was the one that made my day. they were an older couple. A teacher and a professor. Fantastic people. they remembered me from their last trip in April and were happy to see me. We were discussing breakfast and before I knew it we were talking about my novel. I sat down,( Since the restaurant was almost empty), and discussed books, paper and teachers with them. Then they bought a copy of my book.They really made me feel so special that the rest of my day was perfect.
I hope for more perfect days like this one. The people I met are priceless to me.


Authors, like coins, grow dear as they grow old:
It is the rust we value, not the gold.
Alexander Pope

Current Mood: hopeful

Writing a masterpeice takes time. It takes alot of time, a world of creativity, and a little inspiration. A muse, a wonderous being who lights your soul. One who will help you become the writer you want to be. Not just the writer you pretend to be while you putting your makeup on in the mornings getting ready for work.


I have been told several times it is hard to become a writer. It's not hard to become one, it's hard to live as one. Writing is not that hard at all. Even putting together stories is easy. But getting published is a pain in the butt. There is so much talent in the world, but it seems to be limited to a select group. I strive to be one of this group. I want to be one of the writers.

Who knows, maybe one day I will be serching the blogs for the next person who will take the world by storm. Who knows, i may be the one who opens the door for them. It is hard to make it on your own when you are lost in sea of paperwork, rejection letters, unpaid bills, and people telling you to grow up and become part of the working class.

There are to many people out there who are so unhappy, going thru their day frantic about how all the bills are going to get paid. They are the ones who insist you do a perfect job, work effecently without question. They bog you down with so much that the inspiration inside you gets crushed, and eventually dies. I refuse to be apart of it. There is too much magic in the world to let it fall by the roadside a gather dust. So little time to build on it that it dies faster than we can heal it. Who wants to live in a world where magic is no longer exsisting. Not me.

I DO BELIVE IN FARIES! It's not just a part of a boy who never grew up, it is in us all. The dreams we put in a draw should not be forgotten. The love that we have as children should grow and thrive as we get older, not be lost to depression and moarning. We have become weak from lack of belifes, and misunderstandings. We have become afraid of beliving that we can do anything because other call us too fat, too sick, or just plain not capable.

I don't know if any one will ever read this. Maybe some one will come across it from time to time. But at least I will be heard. The magic of our world is so precious. The love that we have for one another is dimming, what will happen then. We need the writers who cause us to think, trick us to cry and beg us to laugh. For in these writers we forget ourselves, and a little of the magic is able to return. They bring a large amout of light, a generous amount laughter, and most of all worlds of hopes. I wish to be one of those writers.

Current Mood: restless