The Thirtieth Day…

…your proudest day to date

Hmmm…

MY proudest day…because y’all know I thought of everyone BUT me at first. I though of Syre and my mom and even the day my dad became sober…but, I think I’ll champion myself.

I can’t pinpoint an exact day, but the DAY itself was in the making. The day I decided to take on someone else as a “manager”. I’d been making 1,000 excuses about how much I needed to get done BEFORE doing anything with my writing and even with Fancy Face…but, I quit bullshitting and started taking the bull by the horns.

I allowed a friend of mind to set me up on a self-publishing site and put my work out there as a STAND ALONE project and I’m glad I did. Not because it’s selling like hotcakes (because it’s a free download), but because it’s conditioning me for being OUT there.

I find myself encouraging, marketing, inspiring everyone else while my own talents flounder in a dry place. I’ve grown tired of the rut I’ve been in and am ready to color outside the lines. I THINK outside the lines, LOVE outside the lines, GIVE outside the lines…but, rarely had I stepped outside of those lines for my own benefit.

I’m growing prouder of myself by the day. The woman I’m becoming at 40 is something of a splendid thing to see. I know there’s going to be more proud days and I’m ready. I really am.

The Twenty Fifth Day…

…a day you’re currently planning for

I can’t say I’m planning…as in moment by moment. I do have a goal that involves my overall business.

I want to publish my books. I have a novel that needs copyrighting, an erotic book that needs finishing and I’m planning on a poetry book as well.

I actually am in the middle of writing several things at once…including the sequel to the finished novel.

I’m currently trying to nurture Fancy Face Kreations, so that too, is a goal of mine. To broaden my business connections, learn more tools to my trade and become a known name in my field. I never even thought I’d be doing it, but here I am…and good at it 🙂

I’m praying that I can catapult myself into self-sufficiency…to the degree that I can afford to do the things I’ve longed to do, such as travel and experience new things…to find inspiration for each of my crafts including photography.

So that’s it. lol

🙂

The Eighth Day…

…a day you realized what you wanted to do/be

I know you guys are gonna laugh at me…but, when I was about 7 or 8, my mom asked me what I wanted to be. I told her a………………………………………………………………………………………………………………….clown. LOL

I didn’t REALLY want to be a clown, but I loved McDonald’s and I loved Ronald. I might’ve been craving some Mickey D’s…I don’t know. lol

The truth is…when I was younger I used to want to be a counselor. Perhaps even at 12, it seemed my job was to listen to my friends’ problems. “What kinda problems can a 12yr old have?” you ask.

“My mother hates me…”

“I can’t stand my siblings!!”

“Why doesn’t he like me?”

Yea…seems small, but in a tween’s world…that’s everything. I love being there for my friends and figuring out ways to cheer them up. I wanted to do that because it never dawned on me to take my writing and build on it.

Writing was such second nature mechanics to me. It was like air, eating, taking showers…I wrote everything down and in detail. Journals, letters, and sketched stories were the ways I expressed myself. I could articulate how hurt I was, how angry I was…far better with a letter than an actual conversation. Poetry and even song lyrics began to fill my notebooks and I never once thought of doing it for a living….

I did consider teaching. I loved bringing knowledge to people. It was like offering water in a bottomless goblet of enrichment. I would take my small (not pocket) dictionary everywhere. It was riddled with lines. Squiggly red, blue, green, circles. My favorite things were color coded. Everything one color…flowers, the Greek alphabet, names for fairies, states, and synonyms for everyday words…all beautifully highlighted. My ex saw my dictionary one day and said, “Wow, baby…I’ve never seen anyone treat a dictionary like a regular book the way you do…”

Still, I found all kinds of interests. Did I want to be a fashion designer? I drew all of the time and often played with the idea of style. Did I want to be a gemologist? I loved jewelry and stones. Did I want to be a chef? I love to cook and could totally cater. Did I want to sing? NO. I CAN sing…my ass off, even…but that was never my dream. Too shy for stage displays.

Finally, right before settling into what I KNOW…writing…I had a temporary yen to be an event planner. I wanted to plan weddings and everything fabulous! My sister and I had even recruited a friend to be a partner for a short time in what we called “Pretty Pleased”. We researched, held bi-weekly meetings and did group assignments to acclimate ourselves to the world of planning on a budget. That fell through and left me listless for a bit.

…then I wrote my book. “Twisted Heart”. What began as a way to stay occupied during the day, morphed into a full-on novel of the suspense-drama-thriller kind. I started that book one day back in 2005 and now here I am…8 years later…and still clutching to it like an overprotective mother.

I’ll release her soon…she needs to be set free. Even if only for the sensation of having let go. I have also embraced my art in another way through Fancy Face Kreations…both art and writing have always held core spaces in my soul…it was only a matter of time before they bubbled up and introduced themselves. lol

Langston & Nikki

I’ve been reading poetry lately…

It’s been a while, since I sat down and read something of someone else’s. I hate to be influenced by other styles when I’m trying to solidify my own…

I’m quite aware that, “good” poets are inspired by others’ works…but, GREAT poets set the bar. I’ve been told I’m great, but recently I feel sub par. Now, now…if you’ve read my stuff and you say, “Kali…cut it out. Your stuff is GREAT“…pump your breaks. YOU are officially biased…and quite possibly…you love me, so again…you work for me. LMAO

I mean sub par against some deeper more established poets. People whose works stand out and BRING it. I’m talking creativity, uniqueness, style and depth. I’m talking opening “it”…widening “it”…and quite possibly…putting a hole in “it” because the bottom ain’t deep enough.

I’ve been reading Langston Hughes and Nikki Giovanni online. How I came across my first poetry book was quite spiritual. My ex pastor of long ago (RIP Rev. Wilson) had a sister who I rarely ever saw…but, one day while at their family home she invited me up to her room. She’d heard from her brother and my mother that I wrote…and wanted to talk to me. Not long after sharing thoughts…she gave me Nikki’s “Cotton Candy on a Rainy Day“. Unfortunately, I lost that book when a relationship ended. ~sigh~ …I have every intention on replacing my book AND acquiring some others. I don’t think I saw his sister much after that…but, she told me I’d love it and I did.

You wanna know something? Other than the ones mentioned above and knowing “of” Sonia Sanchez and other historic bards like Yeats…I’ve never really been a reader of poetry books. I began writing…and that was it.  I had so much in my head that I just wrote. So much so that it got me in trouble (see, journals/diaries/secret notes).

As a child, I indulged in reading fables, researching encyclopedias for vast types of knowledge and as I got older, reading novels/urban tales and the occasional autobiography. I honestly don’t remember being enthralled by the works of others BESIDES Nikki Giovanni. I DO remember having an affinity for Edgar Allen Poe’s “The Raven“…but that was it. One night, my friend, Tei was reading poetry to me…sharing her love of books she’s come to own and I felt like I was “posing” as a writer while listening. I mean, how didn’t I have at least ONE book in my hand from a renowned poet/writer? How did I manage to call myself a writer without reading some classic books? I could never sit among a field of writers and exchange quips, lines and quotes from memory. I could never sit at a round table of poets and throw out titles of books or poems ad nauseum.

I don’t know…I’m not TOTALLY kicking myself for shits and giggles. I guess I am asking myself to consider taking what I like to call “poetic inventory”. I am going to start looking into finding some collections from the above and some I don’t know and IMMERSE myself in someone else’s craft. I’ve been tussling back and forth with my muse…and it’s tiring. Writing isn’t coming as easy as it once did and that worries me. Perhaps it’s time to focus on something other than what I can create. Maybe I ain’t so great. Doesn’t mean I can’t BECOME great…but, maybe I need to be inspired.

We’ll see…

For now…I wanted to share a poem from Nikki and Langston.

I Wrote A Good Omelet by Nikki Giovanni

I wrote a good omelet…
and ate a hot poem… after loving you


Buttoned my car…and drove my 
coat home…in the rain… 

after loving you


I goed on red…and stopped on 
green…floating somewhere in between… 
being here and being there… 

after loving you


I rolled my bed…turned down 
my hair…slightly 

confused but…I don’t care…


Laid out my teeth…and gargled my 
gown…then I stood 

…and laid me down…

To sleep… 

after loving you 


~smiling at this~



Gods by Langston Hughes
The ivory gods,
And the ebony gods,
And the gods of diamond and jade,
Sit silently on their temple shelves
While the people 
Are afraid.
Yet the ivory gods,
And the ebony gods,
And the gods of diamond-jade,
Are only silly puppet gods
That the people themselves
Have made
~ain’t that the truth~

…thank you for reading 🙂

Gotta A-Muse Myself…

I have been SO lackluster lately in the writing department…penning only a few poems sporadically, here and there. I don’t like it. I need to “exercise” my writing muskles (lol, my little cousin used to say that).  I don’t like when I go extended amounts of time with a motionless pen. The worse feeling for ME is having ideas and not being able to articulate them…

I think my biggest impediment is not ever wanting to be monotonous. I would hate to seem redundant. I would hate to seem redundant. LOL

SO…I’m imposing a challenge upon MYSELF. This is NOT a challenge where I’m inviting others to do it with me…but, if someone sees it and chooses to participate…so be it. I think the reason why I didn’t do to well at the photo challenge I was last seen fleeing away from, lol…is because it involved less writing and more photo taking. I couldn’t for the  world of me remember WHAT I was supposed to be taking a pic FOR…which would result in me trying to find something…ANYTHING to snap once I got home. ~sigh~

Anyway…THIS self-imposed challenge is right up my alley. I’m calling it my “30 Day A-Z Word Challenge”.  I’ve come up with 26 words that I have to blog about…leaving 4 extra slots. The list goes a little something like this…

Ambition
Beauty
Chance
Desire
Entity
Favorite
Generosity
Hate
Illusion
Jubilant
Kindred
Limitation
Music
Nucleus
Optimism
People
Questions
Revelation
Secrets
Triumph
Unique
Validation
Weakness
X factor *wild card word*
Youth
Zen

The last four words were fashioned out of the acronym for the word “word”.

Writing
Oxymoron
Rhythm
Dreams


Here I go…

19~ I, The Pen…Ink, My Soul

What do you love to do the most?

THIS!!!

Writing. It’s my passion. I dream of stories and characters and how I’m going to weave it into something bordering on literary genius. LOL

I’ve always loved writing…

  • I practiced my penmanship independent of my teacher’s instruction
  • I had perfect penmanship before most of my friends could write in print
  • I learned calligraphy (translated literally into “beautiful writing”) in 7th grade and was told that I was one of the quickest studies at that time
  • I’ve been drawing and writing stories around characters since the 6th grade (I suppose that made me 10 at the time)
  • I STILL write the alphabet in print, script and calligraphy in my free time
  • Poems have always come easily to me…so has creative writing, but oddly enough I am having the hardest time composing an ending to a book I started in late 2005/early 2006. Too critical of my own work
Basically, writing is in me the way breathing comes instinctively. Second to writing, would be cooking and other “hobbies” like photography, drawing, Interior Design, arts & crafts and watching movies.
I have had a love of words since I was a child. I owned a Junior Scrabble game and love to expand my vocabulary. I once drew on an old journal, “Thoughts to words, words to sentences, sentences spoken, words heard”. It’s the basic cycle of thoughts manifesting. Thoughts are things and become enlivened with the passion of writers, thinkers, speakers…I truly believe the world goes ’round and history is penned by those who take the nuances of events and weave them into tablets of reference.
I am learning every time that I write…more about how much I love writing. I have literary hopes that far span erotica, poetry and short stories. I’d love to write something epic and classic for the times and have my name written/spoken beside bards of old and great authors in my time.
I pray that my work touches…any one…if only one. I would hope that my love could be felt through every word I create. That’s my ultimate goal.

Summer Heat: An Anthology

I’m SO psyched!! I’m excited (and moderately nervous) about the anthology I am a part of with three other very talented (and equally cool ass) ladies.

My girl Katlynne came to me and asked me to be a part of a free anthology spear-headed by a young lady, Sable Jordan. I didn’t even think…I just said “YES”. That’s a shocker, because I’m normally gun-shy when it comes to certain things. I write my blogs and my erotic shorts on my other blog “Passion’s Fruit”…but, I’m almost certain that I’m hiding behind familiar eyes. To put my writing out there for more than a handful of critiquing eyes…is a lot for me.

So, I’m PROUD to say that today, “Summer Heat” was released to be viewed via eBook format (free) to the public.

Just go to Smashwords and download the book featuring four stories:

Downsized by Ms. Downlow (email)

Ninety Days by Kween (:D)

Butterflies in Motion by Perri Forrest

Shaken and Stirred by Sable Jordan

Please give us some feedback and let us know what you all think. I’m very excited and proud to have the opportunity. THANK YOU SO MUCH, Sable, Kat and Perri for bringing me along for the ride!!

A Book Review…

Let me first THANK Ms. Katlynne aka Ms. Downlow herself, for being such a support system. She rocks like spiked stilettos!!

Not only has she been an encouraging force since we made acquaintance on her blog “My Downlow Life“…but she’s penned TWO books and given me the biggest compliment you can give someone…public accolades. lol

Needless to say, each time I read her “Thank You’s”, I was blown away that she felt inclined to put in print, her appreciation for me as a friend and fellow author.

Now…the book.

If you look onto the right column on this page and scroll down, you’ll find a picture of her first book, alternatively titled, “Life on the Low: Creepin’ with Hip Hop”. Hit that. GET that and READ that. The first book takes you through the story’s damsel-turned-vixen, Katlynne’s life. Her life as a law student and wife…and all the drama that ensues when her nearly perfect existence is turned around. You feel her, you root for her and at times…you wish you WERE her. Who wouldn’t want to go from living a life of pulling yourself up by your boot straps…to being thrown head first into the surreal life of celebrities? She makes you feel it!!

The Sequel? Wow…I started this book at almost 10am on a Saturday morning. I did NOT turn my TV on all day until I had finished sometime around 7pm. That includes cat naps and a meal or two. The sexiness of BOTH books is hot enough to make you want to conjure up a lover on the spot. I think I “cricketed” my way through the entire read. LOL

I was more than happy with the book and the ending was FIRE!!! I mean, FIYAH!! I am now tapping my fingers waiting for her to pull the THREEQUEL out of her ass. LOL

DO buy this book. Not just because I said so (well, yea…because I said so, lol) …but, because and besides the fact that she’s a story weaver and a titillating seductress…but, this woman single-handedly published her own work. She took the bull by the balls (yea, I know it’s horns…but this is erotica) and did the foot work. Now, her book comes up on Amazon alongside the Erotic Godmother, Zane.  Her project deserves support and not only would SHE appreciate it…but, so would I. 🙂

Click the pic of the cover to send yourself to Amazon and pick it up!!

"Wriiiiiiiite" ~Celie


Writing…it is the next thing we’re taught behind reading. It’s the next reasonable step to becoming literate and worthy of “moving up” in school. Don’t get me started on actual comprehension, composition and flair…those are totally relevant to each student’s capacity and willingness to learn. What I AM referring to…is the passion to write.

I have been writing (in the passionate sense) since I was in grade school. We had to have “salt & pepper” composition books with our names on them. We would be given a time of day, each day…to write our thoughts journal-style. No one was to read our writings but the teacher. WELL…clearly, as much as people like to dip in my business NOW…they did so then. I was out sick one day. When I returned…some of the girls in my class (which was comprised of 5th and 6th grade “above average” humanities students) …were standing waiting for me at my desk.  We made our way up to the coveted third and top floor of the school and into the one class that housed a stage.  It was also connected by way of the cloak room to the music room…this class was my haven. Yet, before we’d gotten there…none of the friends who spoke to me all of the time paid me any attention.  I didn’t think anything of it. So, I approached my desk they figuratively tapped their Buster Browns in anticipation of my arrival to confront me…meanwhile, my heart dropped at what they could possibly want.
“Why did you say you cant stand ******?”
“I didn’t say that…” I replied
“Yes you did…it’s right HERE!” as one pulls out my book and shows me my entry.
“I didn’t SAY anything…I wrote it.” I justified.
“Are you being smart?” one asked, who was a 6th grader to my 5th grade status.
“No, I’m answering your question. Anyway, it’s my book and no one is supposed to read it.”
“Well, we did…and we don’t like what you said. She cried when she saw this. You should be careful what you write.”
They didn’t speak to me all day…and quite possibly a few weeks longer. I actually remember that in the interim, a new girl came to the class named, Samantha…who I became fast friends with.  As I played with Samantha, sat with Samantha, had lunch with Samantha, slept over Samantha’s house…they slowly but surely befriended me again. They had no idea that I wouldn’t cry. They also didn’t know me very well…I wrote everything they did to me down in that very book! Hmph!
After that, I kept several more journals that got violated down the road…yet, I keep writing in them. I wonder why? LOL
My desire to write is so strong that I write drivel when thinking. When I’m sad, I will doodle and write affirmations to myself. I’m always writing in some form…even if I’m not composing a blog, or a story or statusing/tweeting. Writing to me is like air. I write, even if I never post it or share it with another soul. Writing is my best friend…and it never lets me down. I don’t have to worry about what writing thinks of me…it loves me. It gives back to me WAY more than I give to it. 
I felt this movie line DEEP down the first time I heard it…
“If when you wake up in the morning, the first thing you think about is writing…then you’re a writer” ~Sister Mary Clarence/Whoopi Goldberg — Sister Act 2: Back in the Habit
That speaks VOLUMES to me. I go to SLEEP thinking of things to write. I wake up with plays, musicals and songs fluttering about in my brain. Writing is NOT formulating words in sensible paragraphs. It is projecting your soul into those paragraphs and evoking feeling, response and in some cases…awe, with those very words.
I am a writer…nice to meet you 🙂

Team Kween

When January 1st, 2010 rolled in on tears and pain…I promised myself that not only would this year be different, but that the rest of my LIFE would be different.
The way I’ve been viewing life, by limitations and expectations is not something I want to do anymore. I’ve been limited by my disability (yes, I have one…I have Severe Narcolepsy), which up until now has been something only a select few know of me.  I’m not one to put my business out there, but this is a part of who I am…and I’m not ashamed. The ignorance that is abound isn’t anything I have control over…but c’est la vie.
I was in a relationship for 2yrs with someone I’d never laid eyes on…and I loved him like he woke up next to me every day…but, because of my limitations (medically and financially) I wasn’t able to visit him. I’d hoped that HE would do that, in understanding my situation…but, I see now so much that I didn’t see before…or maybe what I didn’t want to admit. I now know more than I ever wanted to know about how to measure intentions against actions. I now am left to question if “I love you” was just something he said to me while trying to convince himself in the process. Don’t get me wrong, with all my feelings of frustration, abandonment, neglect and residual anger…I don’t wish him ill. I pray that he finds what he was looking for…because clearly, it wasn’t me. I’m okay with that, too. I just wish he hadn’t taken me for a ride while trying to figure out what he wanted.
I also had connections and friendships with people who were unhealthy in their origin and their purpose. I leaned on a few people through my struggles with the “distant long distance relationship” and I realize that I misplaced a lot of feelings onto them. Making others responsible for making me feel validated, when my ex wasn’t doing that. I’ve learned that relationships are SUPPOSED to be intimate and fulfilling. When you need supplements from other sources, you NEED to check why you’re still in a dysfunctional situation, instead of trying to get others to pinch hit for the person who isn’t hitting on a damn thing. I believe that a friendship or two has fallen victim to my inability to free myself from an agonizing position…not to mention, not understanding when those people (with their own lives and issues) weren’t around when I needed. I still love them, but I also realize that loving someone means allowing them to move on and be happy separate from any pressures that you may be imposing.
I’m also learning to follow my dream of writing and publishing my own book. I’ve been writing for YEARS and I’ve got TONS of ideas and story lines churning about. At this point though…having turned 37, something has to give. I have been writing this novel (and now it’s sequel) for over 3yrs. I’ve been clinging to it like a protective mother…not wanting to let it be embraced by others. Now, it’s time. It’s bittersweet though…there are some folks, who throughout my “penning period” have championed my cause…and I wish they were here to go through this excitement with me. I hope that though things may be strained between us…”they” will be proud of me anyway.
What I learned most…the biggest lesson of all, is that I have GOT to be my own team. I’ve got to do the research, the reading, the legwork, the motivation, the support system…to get this thing rolling. There are my loved ones, who say, “Oh, I’m soo proud of you. I’m happy for you.”…and I know they mean it with the reverberations of the words from their souls. Yet, I also know…that until it’s materialized…for them it’s just a thought trying to be a reality. Very few will offer to read, or donate to my cause…because, well…life happens. Everyone has their own thing going. They can’t afford to hip hip hooray for an “idea”…they’ve been waiting for me to burst forward for years. So no blame…but, I know that it’s a solo ride. One for Team Kween!!