IN PRAISE OF SOME TRULY WONDERFUL BOOKS

Most often, my favorite books are high suspense page turners—thrillers, horror, fantasy. And since I am fascinated by human behavior and shared wisdom, I also read memoirs and accurate historical accounts of important events.

Before I get into the two books I’m referring to in the title of this post, I’ll review a third book I finished reading at about the same time. It’s a good book as well, so I’m happy to give it a mention. I plan to post all reviews on Goodreads and Amazon.

Description:

The True Story of the Prison Escape That Inspired the Documentary “How It Really Happened”

In June 2015, two convicted murderers broke out of the Clinton Correctional Facility in Dannemora, in New York’s North Country—launching the most extensive manhunt in state history and dominating the news cycle with the sex scandal linking both inmates to the prison employee who aided them.

Double murderer Richard Matt and cop-killer David Sweat slipped out of their cells, followed a network of tunnels and pipes under the thirty-foot prison wall, and climbed out of a manhole to freedom. For three weeks, residents of local communities were prisoners in their own homes as law enforcement swept the wilderness near the Canadian border.
Dannemora is a gripping account of the bold breakout and the search that ended with one man dead, one man back in custody—and lingering questions about those who set the deadly drama in motion.

My rating: ****

My Review

I enjoy watching prison drama shows and reading books about it. This historical escape is recounted by a former prison guard and retired correction training lieutenant (Gardner). Funnily enough, it happened in my state, but coverage in southern New York, where I live, was not as extensive as it was up north. The facility we refer to down here as Dannemora is actually the Clinton Correctional Facility in Dannemora, a remote rural area closer to Montreal than to me. So, learning about this legendary place and how New York State runs its prisons fascinated me, but the book doesn’t really become a page-turner for a while.

The book left no doubt that a lot of problems within the prison system need to be resolved. I read reviews where people felt the author was biased in blaming the governor (Andrew Cuomo) and the Department of Corrections administration for the escape of these two dangerous criminals and not the neglectful, incompetent guards. However, as the author explains, these prisons are short-staffed. They are restricted in terms of what they can do, and God forbid anything they have to do requires overtime pay. Gardner does als0 blame any guards who were neglectful.

Anyway, this was a good read. I enjoyed it.

About the Author

Charles A. Gardner is a municipal court judge and retired correction training lieutenant in Malone, New York, the far-upstate town where he was born and raised. His twenty-five-year career in New York State Department of Corrections included working as a correction officer, sergeant, and lieutenant. He had experience working in medium- and maximum-security facilities including stints at Clinton Correctional Facility in Dannemora and the maximum-security prisons of Sing Sing, Bedford Hills, Great Meadow, and Upstate. He lives with his wife in the North Country. Visit him at http://www.charlesagardner.com.

Description:

Winner of the Pulitzer Prize and the National Book Award, this novel about a resilient and courageous woman has become a Broadway show and a cultural phenomenon.

Celie has grown up poor in rural Georgia, despised by the society around her and abused by her own family. She strives to protect her sister, Nettie, from a similar fate, and while Nettie escapes to a new life as a missionary in Africa, Celie is left behind without her best friend and confidante, married off to an older suitor, and sentenced to a life alone with a harsh and brutal husband.

In an attempt to transcend a life that often seems too much to bear, Celie begins writing letters directly to God. The letters, spanning twenty years, record a journey of self-discovery and empowerment guided by the light of a few strong women. She meets Shug Avery, her husband’s mistress and a jazz singer with a zest for life, and her stepson’s wife, Sophia, who challenges her to fight for independence. And though the many letters from Celie’s sister are hidden by her husband, Nettie’s unwavering support will prove to be the most breathtaking of all.

The Color Purple has sold more than five million copies, inspired an Academy Award–nominated film starring Oprah Winfrey and directed by Steven Spielberg, and been adapted into a Tony-nominated Broadway musical. Lauded as a literary masterpiece, this is the groundbreaking novel that placed Walker “in the company of Faulkner” (The Nation), and remains a wrenching—yet intensely uplifting—experience for new generations of readers.

My rating: *****

My Review

For me, this book falls into the category of human behavior, struggles, and experiences that I want to read about. It’s fiction but reflects the times, namely how appallingly white people treated black people, especially women, in the first half of the twentieth century. The dialogue is consistent and seems so authentic, staying true to the well-developed and endlessly endearing characters. I had so much love for Celie, Shug, Nettie, and Sofia—for their kind hearts and earned wisdom. Their courage, grace, and determination to survive and fight back had me cheering them on from beginning to end. I laughed and cried with them.

There are so many great quotes from the book, but one of the many that made me laugh hard was Sofia responding to white men calling her “Aunt.” As Celie explained, Sofia ast one guy “which colored man his mama sister marry?”

The Colored Purple is a gem of a book to be treasured throughout time and so well deserving of the Pulitzer Prize awarded to its author. I highly recommend it.

About the Author

Alice Walker (b. 1944), one of the United States’ preeminent writers, is an award-winning author of novels, stories, essays, and poetry. In 1983, Walker became the first African-American woman to win a Pulitzer Prize for fiction with her novel The Color Purple, which also won the National Book Award. Her other books include The Third Life of Grange Copeland, Meridian, The Temple of My Familiar, and Possessing the Secret of Joy. In her public life, Walker has worked to address problems of injustice, inequality, and poverty as an activist, teacher, and public intellectual.

Description:

Myrlie Louise Beasley met Medgar Evers on her first day of college. They fell in love at first sight, married just one year later, and Myrlie left school to focus on their growing family.

Medgar became the field secretary for the Mississippi branch of the NAACP, charged with beating back the most intractable and violent resistance to black voting rights in the country. Myrlie served as Medgar’s secretary and confidant, working hand in hand with him as they struggled against public accommodations and school segregation, lynching, violence, and sheer despair within their state’s “black belt.” They fought to desegregate the intractable University of Mississippi, organized picket lines and boycotts, despite repeated terroristic threats, including the 1962 firebombing of their home, where they lived with their three young children.

On June 12, 1963, Medgar Evers became the highest profile victim of Klan-related assassination of a black civil rights leader at that time; gunned down in the couple’s driveway in Jackson. In the wake of his tragic death, Myrlie carried on their civil rights legacy; writing a book about Medgar’s fight, trying to win a congressional seat, and becoming a leader of the NAACP in her own right.

In this groundbreaking and thrilling account of two heroes of the civil rights movement, Joy-Ann Reid uses Medgar and Myrlie’s relationship as a lens through which to explore the on-the-ground work that went into winning basic rights for Black Americans, and the repercussions that still resonate today. 

My rating: *****

My review:

Overall, Medgar and Myrlie: Medgar Evers and the Love Story That Awakened America is a beautiful tribute to American civil rights activist, Medgar Evers and his wife, Myrlie, who was the epitome of elegance, grace, and devotion while being her own courageous young woman.

Medgar Evers was a World War II veteran in a war we fought over racial superiority, a war against racial tyranny, but at home, in the United States of America, even in the 1960s when our little worlds were about peace and love, we treated black people appallingly. For that reason, America looked quite hypocritical to other countries who were aware of the racial tensions here as well as the mistreatment. World War II veteran Medgar Evers, like other people of color, faced the utmost disrespect, being denied the rights afforded to white people and subjected to unimaginable cruelty while being mocked and humiliated every step of the way.

When President Kennedy offered Medgar’s family the honor of having him buried at Arlington Cemetery with the other veterans and heroes, it alarmed segregationists. Good thing their protest amounted to nothing, and Medgar received the honor he deserved.

I love that, as discussed in the book, the widows of Martin Luther King, Jr., Malcolm X, and Medgar Evers made friends and supported one another. Coretta Scott King, Betty Shabazz, and Myrlie Evers-William carried on the fight, making tremendous strides of their own as civil rights activists.

Bless Medgar Evers and his family, what they sacrificed to get us where we are today. I never use the world surreal, but when I came upon a photo of Myrlie Evers hugging President Barack Obama fifty years after Medgar’s death, that was surreal to me. She delivered the invocation at his second inauguration ceremony on January 21, 2013.

Medgar and Myrlie isn’t the page-turning suspense book I normally read, and it’s certainly not an easy read. It’s a book you read slowly in many intervals, and the more you read, the more you want to know. We should know all of this—our history, the good and the bad. It is critical that we learn from people from all walks of life, whether their experiences are similar to or vastly different from our own.

Medgar and Myrlie is an important book that should be required reading in our schools. I say that because no one taught me about Medgar Evers when I was in school. I, like so many others, grew up oblivious to the sacrifices this young civil rights activist made for the greater good and how much he contributed to the rights ultimately won by his community.

Some people feel that reading stuff like this will traumatize their kids and plague them with guilt. With my awareness as a child, the only effect it had on me was ever-increasing and much-needed empathy. And, yes, all of it is traumatizing—even more so for the people who lived it and constantly witness dismissal of their experience and their pain. As parents, we can help our children sort through whatever they feel about it, and they will emerge as much more kindhearted individuals.

You know, I have to say, Martin Luther King Jr. spoke of saving us from our own demons. He saw the cruel, ugly behavior as demonic. And that’s what demonic means—extremely evil or cruel. And ironically, for so many, the guidebook is the Bible. Both the Old and New Testament have countless passages about loving one another, being kind and generous to the poor, defending the oppressed. For the oppressed to break free. To love mercy, carry each other’s burdens. Yet, one of the biggest problems we have today is people incapable of putting themselves in someone else’s place and being willing to see things from their point of view. It’s easy not to read, not to listen, not to care. The consequences of ignorance affect both the ignorant individuals and the children they raise to be equally oblivious and unkind.

My son and I often talk about why some kids realize at an early age that we need to reject all of this and fight for what’s right, while other kids just go along with what their parents teach them. People are afraid of testing their support system because they have bonded with people who have normalized bigoted behavior, and you sacrifice a lot to stand your ground. But I think about what civil rights leaders sacrificed. Some things are just bigger than us.

So, yes, Martin Luther King Jr. hoped we would rise above our past and present demons.

I read a blog post the other day by someone who thought it was arrogant of Dr. King to think that he could save the soul of America. And yet many people believe that an avaricious, unlawful, misogynistic bigot like Donald Trump can do it. Why? Because he’s white? Unlike Trump, Martin Luther King Jr. didn’t think it was his job alone to heal the country and save our souls, but that it required a collective effort. We are all tasked to help heal the universe, and I hope we succeed.

About the author:

Joy-Ann Reid is the host of “The ReidOut,” which airs weeknights from 7-8:00 P.M. ET. on MSNBC. She previously hosted the weekend program: “A.M. Joy” (2016-2020) and a daily news show “The Reid Report” (2014-2015).

A 1991 Harvard University graduate with a Bachelor of Arts degree in Visual and Environmental Studies with a concentration in documentary film and a 2003 Knight Center for Advanced Journalism fellow, Reid has a longtime interest in politics and elections. During a hiatus from the news business, she worked as a press secretary for the national voter registration and mobilization entity, America Coming Together in 2004 and for the Florida branch of Barack Obama’s presidential campaign in 2008.

Reid has written four books: Fracture: Barack Obama, the Clintons and the Racial Divide, We Are the Change We Seek: The Speeches of Barack Obama (with Washington Post columnist E.J. Dionne), The New York Times best-selling, The Man Who Sold America: Trump and the Unraveling of the American Story and her latest: Medgar and Myrlie: Medgar Evers and the Love Story That Awakened America.

An honorary member of Delta Sigma Theta Sorority, Inc., Reid has received six NAACP Image Award nominations and The ReidOut received the award for best talk program in 2020. The documentary she co-Executive Produced: The Sit-In: Harry Belafonte Hosts the Tonight Show (directed by Yoruba Richen) was nominated for an Emmy Award. And she has received media awards from the Women’s Media Center, the National Action Network, and GLAAD.



Library Heaven cover image at the top by Mystic Art Design from Pixabay

SPOTLIGHT ON A BOOK AND AUTHOR

My spotlight in this blog post is on poet/novelist Stephen Alexander North, who writes sci-fi, horror, thrillers, fantasy, and poetry, and his newest release, Dead Tide. This is the first book in the Dead Tide series. 

THE WORLD IS ENDING, BUT THERE ARE SURVIVORS!

Nick Talaski is a hard-bitten angry cop. Graham is a newly divorced cab driver. Bronte is a Gulf War veteran hunting his brother’s killer. Janicea is a woman consumed by unflinching hate. Trish is a gentlemen’s club dancer. Morgan is a morgue janitor.

THERE ARE NO CONTINGENCY PLANS FOR THIS!

The dead have risen, and the citizens of St. Petersburg and Pinellas Park are trapped. The survivors are scattered, and options are few. And not all monsters are created with a bite.

Some still have a mind of their own

Blake

The smell of death and decay would always be with him. No amount of scrubbing or sterilizing dulled it. However, he was so familiar with it he barely perceived it, and now he only noticed the smell when he opened a door. He pushed his mop and bucket along a gleaming white-tiled corridor, trying to ignore the squealing of the wheels.

There was a double door just ahead. A sign to the left of the doors read: Decedent Storage and Investigations. He held one door open with his body and pulled the bucket through. His boss, one of the technicians, stood just a few feet away inside.

“Ah, there you are, Blank. Table six has a spill… bastard had a colostomy bag, and I didn’t know it. The thing burst all over. Hop to it! Dr. Bastrov will be in soon.”

“It’s Blake,” he corrected, hoping none of his irritation showed, keeping his eyes cast downward. He was a small man after all, and his boss a hulking behemoth, grossly fat—probably three or four hundred pounds—but still strong. Blake knew he would only be in trouble if his boss could catch him.

The man grinned broadly and smacked his own forehead in mock reproof. “That’s right, how could I forget, Blank—-Blake?” The grin faded. “Better get your ass in there and clean up, or…”

Blake saw a slick of blood, feces, and probably urine forming a coagulating stain around a gleaming autopsy table. The corpse was still there, but none of the coroner’s staff was present, just his boss and buddy, good ‘ole Joss “The Hoss” Hawkins. He resumed pushing his bucket toward the table.

He’s not my buddy. The bastard hates me.

“I’m going for a cigarette, boy, so when you’re finished here I want you to start on the men’s room on the first floor. Got me?”

The urge to snap a salute was strong, but he forced it down. “Sure thing, boss,” he said and dipped the mop into the hot soapy water. Hawkins brushed past him and through the door. Blake couldn’t help but stand there by the puddle for a moment, trying to collect himself. He pushed the mop into the putrid mess, smearing it over the tiled floor.

There was a violent thud, and he whirled, thinking Hawkins was up to something.

No one was there. He looked at the three tiered rows of storage drawers for decedents, each one a polished metal sliding tray and most of them containing a piece of dead meat. He was certain he had heard a noise, though, and wondered if Hawkins was playing a joke on him.

Three or four additional thuds came from several drawers. The pounding came quicker, and then there was a metallic clatter from behind him. He spun back around, tensing; the mop held before him defensively.

He let out a long, drawn-out sigh. “Good Lord, you gave me a fright, Doctor.”

The doctor looked at him, and Blake realized he’d never seen this sort of expression on her face before: a mix of fear and puzzlement. One elegant eyebrow arched as she tilted her head toward the noise. Even now, he found himself captivated by her. Her long, lustrous chestnut hair was up in a ponytail, but the bangs had come free and framed the pale oval of her face.

“What’s going on?” she asked. When Blake shrugged, she said, “Call Tech Hawkins right now. This better not be some kind of joke.”

“Right away, ma’am,” he replied. “I’ll page him.”

Stephen Alexander North is a Florida native, a closet lounge singer, and the Obscure Floridian Writer of sci-fi, horror, thrillers, fantasy and poetry. He has a Bachelor of Arts in English Literature from the University of South Florida. He served in the Army Reserve as a military policeman from 12/84 to 12/90 (reaching the rank of sergeant). At fifteen, his first job was taking care of over 200 parakeets, and 100 lovebirds in a neighbor’s garage. At sixteen, his first ‘real’ job was making camera bellows (the black accordion part on old style cameras) Some of the bellows were for NASA—Probably not any made by him though. From there, he worked in the fast-food industry (a grill god at McDonald’s), a bookstore (or Heaven, as described by the author), then three major retailers (Maas Brothers, Home Depot, then Walmart). He’s also worked, briefly, in a print shop (that ended abruptly when he nearly fell into one of the presses, which might, at the very least, have cost him an arm).

His favorite hobbies are listening to music, reading books, walking the dogs, Sancho and Oreo, and riding his bike with Kerri (his girlfriend).

He has a daughter that he’s very proud of.

You have a lot of titles out there, some poetry books and some horror genre fiction. You like to write about zombies. What has drawn you to that genre?

I will say seeing the original Dawn of the Dead movie when I was sixteen or seventeen really grabbed me in a how would I survive type sense. It wasn’t just that though, especially as time went on, and I worked in retail. There’s social commentary going on here, and the topic of consumerism and people going to the mall… Anyway, I found out, somewhere around 2005 or 2006, that a publisher was looking for these types of novels. I’d written and self-published my first book (an alien invasion/sci-fi thriller) at that point, and writing a zompocalypse novel seemed like a great challenge. Could I do it? And at that point, I’d been in retail over twenty years—I’d had plenty of experience with people from all walks of life. What if I wrote an epic zombie survival novel with a huge cast of characters! I went for it, although I had no idea how dark this book would get.

Tell us about your latest release.

I had two books release on the same day! One of them was my fifth poetry book, A View From The Edge, and the other was the re-release of my first zombie novel entitled Dead Tide. It has been with two different publishers, and this is actually the fourth edition! Currently there are four books in the series, and a possible fifth is under consideration/contemplation. The series is about a group of people, actually more than one group, trying to survive in St. Petersburg, Florida. It’s written from a moment to moment perspective, with alternating viewpoint characters by chapter. 

What is the hardest part of writing these books?

I had no idea how dark they would get. Never know what’s around a corner.

Give us an insight into one of your main characters.

There’s a police officer named James Dodd. You might not get the idea that’s something’s off about him right away, but other police officers play pranks on him, and you do find out later that he lives with his mother, but doesn’t go to check up on her when everything goes to pieces.

Is anything in your fiction books based on real life experiences or purely all imagination?

The real world, and my life experiences make it into my books, along with imagination. The question might become, where is the dividing point. Many of my stories are set in my hometown of St. Petersburg, or nearby: Pinellas Park, Tampa, or somewhere else in Florida.

What have you learned from writing your books?

Writing and reading are escape portals to somewhere else. You don’t really need to go anywhere to have the adventure of a lifetime.

Is there a message in them you want readers to grasp?

While I do address certain issues or mindsets in my stories on occasion, the primary intent is escapism or entertainment. Here’s someone in a moment so you can put aside whatever you’re struggling with in real life for now.

When did you first consider yourself a writer, or do you recall how your interest in writing originated?

Going through the wardrobe to Narnia, and finding the ring with Bilbo were probably the true catalysts! Although my first short story had its roots in the tales of Horatio Hornblower, an English sea captain in the late 1700s. It’s funny, but many things I’ve written were for a purpose, not just something I’ve dreamed about per se. I was in sixth grade (reading the Hornblower series), when my Spanish teacher asked us to write a story for class. Senor Bailes was his name (a wonderful, amazing guy). So, I wrote a story of an English sea captain trying to capture the Manila Galleon (a Spanish treasure ship). I haven’t written any stories since then in that vein, but there is one poem!

What techniques and tools do you use to keep yourself organized?

I save my works-in-progress (with a date attached) often. My work desk is usually a wreck strewn with papers, pens, headphones, books and notebooks. I think I just listed a lot of things I don’t do to be organized. lol    

What is the easiest thing about writing?

Using a computer! I started off with pencil (preferably pen) and paper, then a typewriter, word processor and finally a computer. Seeing your story on paper or on a computer screen really gives this it feels like a book vibe for me. Other than that, actually coming up with an idea of what to write about is easy most of the time.

How long on average does it take you to write a book?

When I was working full-time, usually a year. Since I’ve retired it’s different, but not what I expected necessarily. I haven’t adjusted to retirement, and I’m still focused on re-acquiring my health. Aside from that, I think I wrote three poetry books last year. It’s been a long time since I actually finished writing a novel. Short stories usually a week or two, although I haven’t written many of those lately either. There’s one in an upcoming anthology (hopefully this year)!

Are there any occupational hazards to being a novelist?

Haha, I remember getting hit on by swingers at a convention in Pittsburgh (a book signing convention)! On a more serious note, yes there are. There are judgmental people out there who will decry your work without reading it. Many of them are fearful of what they don’t understand. Family members aren’t always supportive or understanding. This can be a spouse who wants you to watch tv, or ‘someone’ who thinks you’re a weirdo for writing about zombies. This can be people who won’t come to what is probably one of the biggest moments in your life (a book signing at a bookstore or landmark in your hometown). I guess the bottom line is people who don’t get your passion. This could apply to anything really, not just being a novelist. So, I get it. That’s where the friends, family and fans who do appreciate what you’re doing, really make a difference.

Writing about sex – easy or difficult?

Depends on the context? In one of my short stories, and several of my poems, I had anxiety about it. The short story was easier to ‘let go’ in that people know (I think) that it’s just a story—a seedy, gritty story, but just that. Somehow the poems were more intense in that it feels personal, whether it is or not. It’s better to let go. People will like you or like your books, or they won’t. I will say that one poem that gave me the greatest anxiety was one that people mentioned to me as being a favorite. That was cool. Writing under a pen name saves some of that grief.

What has been the toughest criticism given to you as an author?

Too many characters. Chapters are too short. This is a dance of hopelessness. Those three comments were originally complaints on Dead Tide, but many people liked the work for the same reasons. More to the point, criticism from fellow writers and editors, was the toughest, but most helpful. I’ll take tough, constructive criticism any day and consider it, but “I’m giving this book one star because it’s too expensive!” is completely unfair. I’ve had that comment a few times on books of mine sold by a publisher. 

What has been the best compliment?

The love and support for my books from my friends, family and fans.

Was there a person in your career who has impacted you the most or who has really made a difference? 

The sci-fi author Keith Laumer once spent a couple hours on the phone talking with me, about books, my writing, and invited me to visit him, but more so is my girlfriend, Kerri. She’s made a huge difference in my life, and has been a tremendous help with my books.

Which writers inspire you or are your favorites, and what really strikes you about their work?

There are so many! The first two that come to mind are Keith Laumer and Robert B. Parker. They both frequently wrote from a first-person perspective, and I greatly admired their writing styles. Both injected humor, but in grim settings or situations. There was often a noirish feel to their works. Most of Laumer’s works were sci-fi, and Parker’s were detective-type mystery/thrillers or westerns. Something about their narrative voices really spoke to me.

What are the most important attributes to remaining sane as a writer?

I chuckled reading that question. Not that it isn’t a good one, but I may not be sane. My answer, though, is manage your expectations. I have known people that have great success with their writing. Six figure success. Most of us are nowhere close to that. Taking a walk, or going on a bike ride helps too.

Do you admire your own writing?

Yes! I’ve come a long way. Sometimes I’m shocked by what I’ve written. It’s a good feeling.

Have you ever hated something you wrote? 

When I first started out, I’d always end up hating it. With time, and critiques, I moved past that. 

Who would play you in a film of your life?

Rutger Hauer? Lol John Candy more likely! I haven’t always been heavy, but I am a big guy. Despite the sorrow, there’s been a lot of laughs too. I try not to take things too seriously, but sometimes I do.

What are your thoughts on good/bad reviews?

As long as it’s fair, I think I handle them well. Fair or not, it’s part of putting my work out there for sale. As to ones I’ve written, I’ve never given less than three stars. If it deserves less than that, I didn’t write one. Just me. I have told people in private or in a group what I thought was wrong, or what I didn’t like. 

Which social network works best for you?

Currently, I’m present on more than I ever have been before. Facebook is best for me so far as far as interest in my books. I’ve been tweeting for each book release, and I’m on Instagram and Threads, but on the latter two, I haven’t really experimented much. I’m not on TikTok. I do have my own channel on YouTube with fourteen subscribers and around a hundred views. I plan to record myself reading poems more often (but probably not anymore where I’m singing).

Any tips on what to do and what not to do?

I think writing for anthologies is a good idea. Give it a shot anyway. Most of them for me have been for charity. That is wonderful in itself, but when you write for an anthology, there’s usually a theme they’re looking for. This can lead you to writing something you never would have! Plus, it’s a publishing credit! I was in one charity book that included one of my favorite authors! I was in an unpaid anthology that had an introduction by another of my heroes. And I’ve been in a bunch that included friends. That matters to me. I write what makes me happy, and what challenges me. I’ve really enjoyed going to book conventions too. If you go to one as an author, sign up for the interview panels, do the book readings!

How do you relax?

I listen to music, or take walks in a park. Either of these things often lead to writing. I love to read. I haven’t done yoga in a long time, but enjoyed that too.

Who are your heroes?

My parents, David and Joyce, my brother, Ron, a teacher, Bill White, another teacher, Mike Prosynchek, two drill sergeants, SSgt Hope and SSgt Goss, a squad leader, Kurt Kobel, my best friend, David Wawrzynski, another teacher, Jane Buck Addis, a friend, Tina Kurcz, and my girlfriend, Kerri Gregory.  

What is your greatest fear?

Heights.

Your proudest achievement?

Being a father

If your friends or family members were asked to pick three character traits that describe you, what would they say?

Honest, integrity, noble

What are three positive character traits you don’t have?

Not sure how to answer that one.  

If you could be anywhere in the world right now, where would you be? 

Right here at home.

What is your favorite book and why?

I loved Tolkien’s The Silmarillion. It was a world I would love to live in and explore.

What’s the best movie you’ve seen in the last year?

Death on the Nile was decent. I’ve missed a lot of movies lately.

What would you do if you won the lottery? 

Buy an SUV, a better house with a huge library (and all the books still on my TBR list), enjoy some traveling, get a personal trainer to help me get into better shape sooner, and help out some people that I care about. I’m sure I’m forgetting major things. 

What is your favorite memory from childhood? 

All the special times my family had together. It’s hard to pick one.

What is your favorite motivational phrase?

I’m beautiful inside and out.

What advice would you give to your younger self?

I’d be more apt to say something to someone I love to save their life. If I convinced my younger self to change a behavior, I wouldn’t be me now.

Do you laugh at your own jokes?

I’m often self-amused.

What makes you cry?

Onions and pictures.

What makes you laugh?

Many things, my friend.

What’s the loveliest thing you have ever seen?

My daughter’s entrance into the world.

What advice would you give to aspiring writers?

Join a writer’s group to get used to criticism. Read Damon Knight’s Creating Short Fiction. Read! Challenge yourself with different types of writing, or genres, or points of view.

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FOR MY FRIENDS HERE WHO ARE INTERESTED

Just a heads up for followers of this blog: As some of you know, I am working on a dark gothic horror fantasy series that includes a parallel universe. It’s new territory for me since my previous work has been poetry, a coming-of-age novel, and a recovery memoir. At the same time, what I’m embarking upon at this stage is what I’ve always wanted to do.


The content on this blog will still include posts about recovery, personal stories, passions, poetry, and struggles. I’ll continue to review books and shows, most notably in the horror genre. There will be excerpts, announcements, and updates regarding my current project. And I’m adding a new feature!


Every so often, I will spotlight a horror/fantasy author and one of their books. The feature will include a Q&A and other information about the author and book. My first spotlight will follow this post as I’m putting the finishing touches on it right now.


I hope you enjoy the future content, and if you have any suggestions on what you would like to see on my blog, please let me know in the comments.


Have a great weekend!

GREAT LESSONS I LEARNED ABOUT BEING SORRY

We learn a lot as we grow if we care to, and I owe a lot of what I learned to wise friends, twelve-step programs, books, and making mistakes.

Interaction with others hasn’t been easy for many of us. The recovery process, for me, has been a godsend. Take the business of making amends—learning to apologize from the heart and with grace. That requires allowing ourselves to be vulnerable. For some of us, that took time. It took a great deal of restraint for us to not be defensive and learn to apologize with no buts and no excuses. No “if” I offended you nonsense. 

The actual words “I’m sorry” or “I apologize” are essential, we discovered, as is telling the person what we’re apologizing for, and especially not saying, “for whatever it is you think I did.” It’s hard to sincerely apologize if we don’t have empathy for the person we’re apologizing to and an understanding of what we did and why it was wrong. A heartful and genuine apology includes acknowledging the offense, taking responsibility for it, and expressing our remorse.

I’m sure most of us have heard this: “I apologized to you; now, aren’t you going to apologize to me?” It’s not always as ridiculous as it sounds because, in many situations, this person was just as much at fault or more. Still, we’re there to clean up our side of the street, not start sweeping theirs. We’re there to give an apology, not get one.

And we don’t dictate the outcome. We have no control over that. We can’t make the person accept the apology. We don’t expect, let alone demand, insta-forgiveness. 

As for being on the receiving end of an apology, that can be difficult, too. 

When I was still very young, someone I’d been extremely close to invited me to her house for the weekend. We’d been estranged, and she wanted to make amends to me. She said I was first on her very long list.

My response to the words she had anxiously practiced was to hug her and tell her, “It’s okay.” I was good at that, telling people, “It’s fine. You have nothing to apologize for. Forget it.” First and foremost, I wanted to relieve her of her burden. I didn’t want her to feel bad.

Her response to me after the hug was, “I made amends, but I don’t feel better. Why don’t I feel better?”

“Because you haven’t forgiven yourself,” I told her.

Her eyes widened. “Really? Wow! I think you’re right.”

But I was only partly right. Sure, I had an open heart, which is always good, but I wasn’t honest because it wasn’t okay. None of it was okay, and, on some level, she knew that.

I couldn’t tell her I was devastated by much of what she did or that it completely shattered me. I didn’t say a word about how much it damaged me. Granted, I didn’t know then how long it would take to recover from the many ways I felt betrayed by her, but I was fully aware of how cruel she had been in her moments of desperation. 

What I realize now is I didn’t know where she ended and I began. She and I had been bonded for life after the day she overdosed on pills, and I called an ambulance and then kept her awake until they arrived. The paramedics told me she would have died otherwise. But for many years, I had allowed myself to be corrupted by her influence, and to my own detriment, I would not betray her even when she trashed me, lied to me, and abandoned me. I somehow made myself responsible for her comfort, well-being, and happiness, always riding to her rescue. It wasn’t selfless either; I just never wanted to lose her. She knew that, and she counted on it. So, I also had a part in it that I didn’t acknowledge because I didn’t see it yet.

I’m not sure if I told her that I accepted her apology. In retrospect, it was something I very much appreciated and needed to hear, but I didn’t say that. I’m not even sure I heard much of what she said while apologizing. It’s clear to me now that I wanted to be anywhere but there in that room at that moment. I wanted the whole thing to be over and done with. So, I didn’t process it. In fact, I felt undeserving of her amends, and God help me if I were to make her feel guilty or worse. 

Interestingly, if someone had asked me what I needed at the time, I wouldn’t have known and likely wouldn’t have cared. And, yet, I always knew exactly what she needed. 

It occurs to me now that there was no resolution that day—only smiles and hugs, and let’s get on with the day. But martyrdom helps no one. There are unanswered questions. Is it going to be different now? How can we make it different?

Going forward, and as hard as I tried, I still didn’t fully trust her or feel safe with her. I just kept trying. So, the deep pain never really went away for either of us, and the healing process never began. We were never able to rebuild that relationship or restore that broken trust.

I must say that clarity is both a blessing and a curse, but I’d never want to go back to having so little of it.

TAKE CARE OF EACH OTHER


Take care of each other. 

What if that was the advice every one of us was given about our fellow humans the moment we could understand?

It always seemed to me that if we all understood one another better or tried to, the world would be a much nicer place. If we can’t even do it individually, how do we do it on a global scale? How do we create a kinder world? This is what I often wonder.

Casting Out “Others”

People see “others” in the sense of “us against them.” Mental health is one of the many issues that place us in an “other” category and that’s what I will focus on in this post, but I want to preface it with this:

There is a subset of humanity that doesn’t understand and accept other races, cultures, sexualities, and gender identities or respect the existence of other religions. It’s usually the same faction that won’t acknowledge socioeconomic, physical, cultural, or mental limitations and the consequences of trauma. They say things like, “There’s no excuse not to succeed,” or “We are all given the same start in life, the same opportunities and choices.” They think we are basically the same in terms of how our brains work and what we are and want. This is categorically untrue.

We can’t assume people don’t try hard to be functional members of society. A lot of people are out there trying a lot harder than others think. Most of us want and expect to be what’s considered normal, functional, and successful despite our circumstances. 

When it comes to the different terms we’ve established to acknowledge and support others, there’s a lot of mocking and contempt—especially when it comes to gender identity and sexuality. For a simple example, there are those who can’t comprehend or accept that a person can have limited, if any, desire for sexual contact. But ‘asexual’ is one of numerous terms that have helped people realize what they want as opposed to what other people want. There’s even a term for those who only feel a sexual attraction when they bond with someone on an emotional level—demisexual. These new and updated terms and pronouns, which some people have unfairly criticized as “butchering the language,” are a result of updated knowledge. We use these terms to better articulate the nuances of people’s identities.

Some people want to call it “woke” to acknowledge all of this (as if it were a bad thing!), but what it is is awareness and treating others with empathy and respect. In doing this, we choose to be aware of the struggles of others. We choose to see, validate, and support one another.

“The key to learning is an awareness of where you lack understanding.” —James Pierce

I wanted this post to be about everyone struggling with being cast out for their different set of circumstances, as there are still too many people dismissing their realities. Someone may know or think they know of individuals looking for “special treatment” or to be given what they don’t deserve, so they assume that about anyone in a similar predicament. I feel that, for the most part, all these people want are basic human rights and to be treated with dignity and respect, as well as understanding and acceptance. They’re not looking for pity. They want what most people take for granted—what most people already have. Unfortunately, however, there’s a massive disconnect in society, and I believe a lot of it has to do with what we’ve been taught.

Embracing diversity and divergence simply means understanding that others are not you and can’t do you. Pretending to be what everyone wants or expects is torture for them and leads to disaster, even tragedy. If someone is naturally born closer to the accepted norm, they may not understand what this is like for those of us who aren’t—those of us who have to push ourselves significantly farther from who we are in order to appear the same. All we want is for people to try to understand. 

Mental Health

When it comes to mental health, I don’t know what it’s like to be clinically depressed or suicidal, but I know it’s helpful to talk to people who can tell you what that looks like. The same is true for those with bipolar disorder, borderline personality disorder, addiction, and every other issue we’ve heard of. The knowledge helps us, and it helps those battling these issues.

I’m sharing my thoughts here as a neurodivergent trauma survivor diagnosed with general anxiety disorder and having social anxiety to boot. The general anxiety is manageable now and much improved, but the social anxiety is a work in progress. I have no doubt that many people could relate to some or all of what I’ll say here, so hopefully, this helps.

Feeling a degree of anxiety in trying circumstances as part of living, working, and socializing is normal. However, when you have an anxiety disorder, that means your anxiety is well beyond the normal level. It makes your life unmanageable in the sense that you can’t live, work, and socialize the way others do. It doesn’t mean you can’t do well or, in many cases, exceptionally well, but your anxiety interferes and can shut you down. Panic can immobilize you. The anxiety you have kind of lives with you, and you even become anxious about things that haven’t happened yet or are unlikely to happen.

As for the social anxiety disorder, again, it’s not the usual trepidation of meeting new people. There’s a paralyzing fear of judgment there. As for where that comes from, I can only imagine. I want to say it comes from being in past situations where you were judged harshly, situations where someone betrayed your trust, and most definitely from experiencing narcissistic abuse and character assassination. I base my perceptions on my own experience.

I have to constantly remind myself that the past isn’t the present. The way someone behaves may have little, if anything, to do with me since everyone has their own struggles. It’s important to recognize when we need to give people the benefit of the doubt. Even when making a conscious effort to apply these policies, my anxiety activates and needs to be addressed, which leads to a lot of avoidance of social situations, reaching out, and initiating group conversation.

.

And where does neurodivergence play a part?

Neurodivergent people have a different way of processing sensory information, so we experience social situations differently from others. In my case, I had two things going on. The neurodivergent in me was capable of processing or perceiving things inaccurately. However, as a survivor of emotional, physical, and sexual abuse, I learned to study people’s body language and facial expressions and read between the lines of what they were saying, rendering them painfully transparent. It was a trauma response I continued to develop over time, learning to read people well because I needed to know when I was safe or when I might have incurred someone’s wrath, etc. Giving people the benefit of the doubt can be difficult or nearly impossible for a trauma survivor. 

Empathy

While we all come to understand our difficulties, we develop more empathy for others because we essentially realize how vulnerable everyone is, whether they are on the spectrum, overly anxious, neurodivergent, or not.

We may even develop empathy for people others strongly feel don’t deserve it, but all it is, really, is a willingness to understand. It’s a benefit of the doubt. It’s a grace we want to extend that we may wish had been extended to us more often. I empathize with those who’ve wronged me the most in my life because I know they were wronged, too, and part of a cycle that needed to end. They were a link in the chain of generational trauma that needed healing. Those people were not all part of my biological family but came from toxic dysfunction that existed in their own families.

In those circumstances, it doesn’t mean you have to approve of what they did or may still be doing. You don’t have to tolerate inappropriate behavior or even forgive the perpetrator, but understanding can help you navigate similar situations and propel yourself away from harm. You learn lessons from history to avoid repeating them, and time and time again, I find empathy is one of the most important lessons to learn.

Life doesn’t need to always be a competition. We’re all faced with hardships, and even when those hardships are not the same, trying to gain a new perspective can help remind you that most people want to be accepted and loved. We’re all in this together, for the most part. We should work together wherever possible and seek to understand and accept each other rather than exclude or marginalize. The problems we face can only be resolved when we’re all on the same page.

GOOD FOREIGN FILMS AND LOVE OF LANGUAGE

I love language. I love learning new languages and more of my own. We often acknowledge the affinity between a love of language and being a poet or a writer. Still, I’m sure this passion isn’t limited to writers or even linguists for that matter.

I can tell you that this poet and writer enjoys watching foreign films as much as I enjoy English-speaking films. German films are among my favorite. The Dark series was brilliant, and Dear Child is another really good one. (I believe they are both still on Netflix.) Watching those, I learned a bit of German and would walk around the house saying German words or pronouncing “good” the German way. 😂

Spanish films are another favorite.

I remember a lot of Spanish from growing up with a Spanish mom. Even with my Italian dad, I knew more Spanish than Italian because I had a lot more Spanish-speaking relatives than Italian ones. Honestly, though, my son took four years of Spanish in high school and is more fluent in that language than I am, but aside from the Spanish shows I watch, I’ve been taking a refresher course. So, now I know a lot more Spanish than I ever did, and I’ll continue to learn.

Of course, people can watch these shows in English, but they are all better in their original language with English subtitles.

What do I watch? Suspenseful thrillers. That’s what I love. One Spanish series I really liked was Who is Erin Carter? on Netflix. Now I’m watching You Cannot Hide, also on Netflix. —so far so good.

In this post, however, I want to give a shoutout to one Spanish show in particular, a series I finished about a week ago—Alba on Netflix. I’m not sure how many of you have watched it or plan to watch it, but if you are going to watch, just be aware that there’s substance abuse, profanity, nudity, sex, and sexual violence.

Now, this is where my blog goes from lighthearted to a bit heavy and distressing, as I grapple with a topic that is extremely important to me and to many.

Alba is based on a Turkish novel called Fatmagül’ün Suçu Ne? and begins with a beautiful young woman awakening on a beach in Spain. Evidence reveals that she was the victim of a sexual assault, but she doesn’t remember anything. Her continuing story depicts the all-too-common experience of trying to prove her case while dealing with further abuse, threats, humiliation, and more. 

I do understand that some people don’t like this topic or can’t watch shows like this that trigger them. For those interested, however, please check out the trailer and read on.

This brave undertaking of Alba’s story resonated with global audiences and gained mass acclaim, but some of the criticism frustrates me.

A few called Alba unrealistic, and I can only imagine they never experienced it or been close to someone who has. There were complaints that it dragged on too long and was a “telenovela” quality drama.

For me, Alba is painfully raw in its authenticity. It’s powerful and intense, with some riveting twists and turns. Filmed in locations throughout Spain, it has a backdrop of glorious scenery. The cast is great. Elena Rivera in the titular role is excellent. Pol Hermoso is truly impressive. Jason Fernández’s facial expressions and non-verbal reactions spoke volumes for his character, and Álvaro Rico’s more nuanced performance is spot on.

Some called Alba a weak character. Again, I can’t imagine anyone who has experienced anything like this in their life or in the life a loved one would make a comment like that. What the young woman in this film endured for justice is something many of us only wish we had the courage to do. Personally, I don’t know how she hung in there through all of what her rapists and their enablers put her through. She was undoubtedly empowering and the hero of her story. 

For a project taking on an important social issue I say, “Well done!” It’s worth watching for anyone who can handle it, and it is a must-watch for people who don’t quite understand what victims go through in the aftermath. As with everything, though, the people who need to watch it most probably won’t. Certain comments I read had me wondering if there are people who simply find reality uncomfortable and would prefer to look the other way. Other comments gave me the impression that some people who have victimized others or enabled perpetrators have found ways to justify what they’ve done and prefer to remain in denial.

Still, we should always continue creating awareness through movies and books.

Pol Hermoso, the Alba actor who so convincingly played what might be considered one of the most angry, violent, and abusive characters on the show, made quite an interesting statement. His character was so despicable that it kind of surprised me to read it. He said to the fans, “Thank you very much to all who have been there week after week giving voice to a topic so current and unfortunately so repetitive. Projects like this give meaning to our profession and push us to continue researching. Thank you.”

Amen to that!

I CAN’T SAY THIS ENOUGH

As an awareness advocate for trauma healing and recovery, I tend to talk about rape more than I’d like to. It’s challenging because some people are tired of hearing and reading about it, but the problem is many more are tired of experiencing it and witnessing the backlash of the accused and their supporters.

There is a massive disconnect in the sense that many people are so afraid of accusations that they can’t properly empathize with victims. Of course, when people in positions of power insist that they themselves are victims (of coordinated malicious reporting effected by government operatives and gold-diggers), there is an escalation of fear and a diminishment of empathy.

The reality is most people have never had a scandal attached to their name. Maybe it’s because most of us properly teach and caution our boys as we teach and caution our girls. And, no, it’s not always the parents’ fault how a child turns out, but proper parenting is one way we can certainly help.

Throughout life, I’ve witnessed some parents ignoring or encouraging predatory behavior. Some are so afraid their child won’t be “normal” by their standards that they start early pressuring them to objectify women or are encouraged by their objectification of women, thinking, “Atta boy.”

As far as the backlash against survivors, some questions and comments surface repeatedly as if the culprits aren’t listening.

Let’s start with this one:

“He’s a good-looking guy and/or he’s rich. He can have any woman he wants, so why would he do that?”

Well, first, I can assure you, whoever it is you’re talking about cannot get anyone he wants. You know that saying, “One man’s treasure is another man’s trash?” How about “Different strokes for different folks” or “Beauty is in the eye of the beholder?”

A man who has many women drooling may repulse many others, and usually, it has to do with behavior. Everyone hears the word no, and the more aggressive someone is in pursuit of others, the more often they will be told no.

For their ego’s sake, many predators want to believe they can have whomever they want. And that monumental ego can’t handle rejection.

More importantly, it’s not just about getting laid for these predators. It’s about conquest and power. Some of these guys live to humiliate others or, at least, women. They may act like the playboy and project this image of loving women when a part of them truly hates women for every rejection they’ve ever experienced, including their own mother’s. And the same is true for many people who rush to defend the perpetrators and in the same breath, malign the whistle blowers. I don’t think you can say you like or love women when you dismiss their pain and suffering so readily.

Following articles about rape, I see comments like “Conniving women strike again.”

They’ll remind us that a person is innocent until proven guilty, and despite overwhelming evidence, they’ll continue to say it. At the same time, they will assassinate the character of a woman reporting a sex crime by perpetuating unfounded allegations that she is a liar, a gold-digger, or part of a conspiracy.

Someone said recently that life is dull these days with all the considerations and correct measures taken to protect the work environment. “People are so needy now,” another responded.

So, for people of this mindset, life is dull when they can’t humiliate people or make them uncomfortable—when they can’t abuse anyone. Sadly, it’s not even that they can’t because they do. They want to be able to do it without any pushback or repercussions, as if the rights of the culprit are the only rights that matter.

To state the obvious, rules, training, and safety measures concerning work conduct exist to provide everyone with a safe and productive work environment. Without this oversight, abuse runs rampant.

 What the hell kind of life do some people have when it’s no longer fun because they can’t be abusive?

Obviously, we have to teach our kids that they don’t need to oppress people to have fun in life.

Here’s another frequent question:

Why wasn’t it reported? Why didn’t the person go to the police?”

Rape is the most underreported crime there is. The majority of victims never report it.

Many people are unaware of rape trauma syndrome.

In the acute phase of rape trauma syndrome, victims are in shock, still experiencing fear and disbelief. A rape survivor can remain in that phase anywhere from days to weeks. After that, they enter a stage where they’re trying to get on with their lives while continuing to suffer. They are likely still afraid, anxious, and even depressed. They’re not back to normal despite trying to be.

In the final long-term reorganization phase, long-standing issues of self-esteem and fear continue to surface. Survivors continue to think about it, sometimes to the point of obsession, and they still may not be ready to talk about it.

Because not everyone responds the same way, people don’t realize that many survivors go through a very long period of emotional instability while experiencing extreme anxiety and fear. They feel everything from guilt and shame to humiliation and disgust. They can be in an obsessive hypervigilant stage for a very long time.

So, if people don’t seem to act rationally after experiencing rape, that might explain it. 

People often do not think about justice when something like this happens to them. Some go into denial and don’t deal with it for years and years if they ever deal with it. Trauma shatters you. It breaks you. It takes time to put the pieces together and heal.

Getting evidence and proving your case beyond a shadow of a doubt at this point is almost futile, and the attorneys for the defense will do everything in their power to discredit an already traumatized person.

The next question is always:

“Why did they go to the media instead?”

When most survivors finally reach a point where they need or want to share what happened to help themselves or others, the statute of limitations has likely expired. Going to the police at that point would be useless. If they can get media attention, their story can prompt an investigation or other victims to come forward. This path can lead to justice or, at least, an end to the abusive behavior. They don’t get compensated monetarily for that. They don’t even necessarily get justice for themselves, but they may save someone else from the same trauma.

I’ve said this before, but it would help so much if we were all on the same side. Then, instead of just protecting other women or just protecting men, we can protect each other. As global citizens, we all have the responsibility to do everything we can to end the violence. It’s time.

Feature image of woman by Anja from Pixabay

Sources for statistics at top of blog:

https://www.rainn.org/statistics/scope-problem

https://www.nsvrc.org/resource/2500/national-intimate-partner-and-sexual-violence-survey-2015-data-brief-updated-release

BOOK REVIEW: Five Signs: A Burning Light to Guide Free-Spirited Women, Witches and Empaths Through the Darkness

Step into the captivating world of Alison Nappi, a writer whose words have touched the hearts of millions, around the globe. With her powerful voice resonating with women, witches, neurodivergent artists and empaths Alison has become a beacon of inspiration in the realm of literature.

As both a blogger and the author of the enchanting ‘Wildness Deck Oracle’ and ‘Five Signs; A Burning Light to Guide Free-Spirited Women, Witches and Empaths Through the Darkness,’ Alison crafts stories that delve into realms while guiding readers towards self-discovery. Her unique perspective as a neurodivergent woman adds depth and authenticity to her writing inviting readers into a realm where understanding and connection thrive.

In addition to her own writing endeavors, Alison actively supports fellow neurodivergent and spiritual writers as a dedicated creative consultant. With her expertise and guidance, she empowers other writers to find their voices and unlock their potential within an inclusive community.

Five Signs: A Burning Light to Guide Free-Spirited Women, Witches and Empaths Through the Darkness

All women possess rich, deep truths they secretly experience…Now it’s time to let the secret out.

Five Signs is a collection of five life-changing works of wisdom. Each article addresses critical issues that impact those women in society that may be considered the “black sheep.” Those of us who don’t fit into the stereotypical norms society wants us to… and some of us who may have magic deep within our souls.

The Hero’s Journey: An empowering essay that inspires, motivates and provides a life focus.

Declarations of Independence: An indictment against the insanity of society and a celebration of those who struggle with ostracism, mental illness or exile.

Your Soulmate is a Villain: A powerful guide on identifying and navigating narcissistic abuse.

Let Your Record Stand: How to follow your art, create and head towards happiness.

Lies You Were Told About Grief: A compassionate acknowledgement of the anguish of grief and how we have been misled about what the process of grieving may look like.

Five Signs will inspire you to discover your true self, take you down a road of understanding life and will motivate you to express yourself wrapped in your creativity.

Grab Five Signs now and allow your soul to see the truth clearly for the first time.

I discovered the writings of Alison Nappi while subscribing to an online magazine called Rebelle Society. Rebelle Society always shared the work of their contributors on Facebook. Alison Nappi’s blogs, in particular, moved me beyond words. She writes gorgeous and brilliant prose. You can experience that in Five Signs, an eye-opening, inspiring, encouraging, and beautifully written book. Throughout the sixty-page read, I kept saying aloud, “Wow. Oh, wow. Oh, my God.” I recognize the ‘villains’ she talks about and so much more. This relatable work was so validating; it had me in tears. It validated me and at least one other person I know, as I’m sure it will so many others. Honestly, I think the author is an incredible spirit and a genius. And in short, Five Signs is a work of art, just lovely. I truly loved it.

KINDLE VERSION AVAILABLE NOW ON AMAZON.COM

Driven by her passion for nurturing talent, Alison offers writing classes tailored for neurodivergent individuals. These classes unlock their potential as storytellers while providing guidance to guide creatives to their truest voices, highest governing truths and most soulful messages. For those seeking individual attention, she also provides coaching sessions that guide aspiring authors through the intricate process of writing and publishing.

Exciting things lie ahead for Alison as she prepares to release a series of captivating books that will undoubtedly leave readers spellbound.

To keep yourself informed and be, among the first to embark on these captivating adventures ensure that you subscribe to Alison Nappi’s Amazon profile, Substack and social media channels. Get ready to be captivated and inspired by the way Alison Nappi’s words transform and inspire through her distinctive method of assisting individuals with neurodivergence in crafting their own works of art.

An Open Letter to Your Inner Child
by Alison Nappi

To the child who couldn’t understand
why nobody could understand.
To the one whose hand was never taken,
whose eyes were never gazed into by
an adult who said,
“I love you.
You are a miracle.
You are holy,
right now and
forever.”
To the one who grew up in the realm of “can’t.”
To you who lived “never enough.”
To the one who came home to no one there, and
there but not home.
To the one who could never understand why
she was being hit
by hands, words, ignorance.
To the one whose innocence was unceremoniously stolen.
To the one who fought back.
To the one who shattered.
To the never not broken one.
To the child who survived.
To the one who was told she was
sinful, bad, ugly.
To the one who didn’t fit.
To she who bucked authority
and challenged the status quo.
To the one who called out
the big people for
lying, hiding and cruelty.
To the one who never stopped loving anyway.
To the child that was forbidden to need.
To the ones whose dreams were crushed
by adults whose dreams were crushed.
To the one whose only friend
was the bursting, budding forest.
To the ones who prayed to the moon,
who sang to the stars
in the secrecy of the night
to keep the darkness at bay.
To the child who saw God
in the bursting sunshine of
dandelion heads
and the whispering
clover leaf.
To the child of light who cannot die,
even when she’s choking
in seven seas of darkness.
To the one love
I am and you are.
You are holy.
I love you.
You are a miracle.
Your life,
your feelings,
your hopes and dreams–
they matter.
Somebody failed you but you will not fail.
Somebody looked in your eyes and saw the sun — blazing — and got scared.
Somebody broke your heart but your love remains perfect.
Somebody lost their dreams and thought you should too,
but you mustn’t.
Somebody told you
that you weren’t
enough
or too much,
but you are
without question
the most perfect
and holy creation of
God’s
own
hands.

TRUE TO THE BOOK CHARACTERS?

Some members of certain fanbases become enraged over the casting of their favorite book characters in adaptations or retellings of the original. Often enough, it doesn’t have to be a favorite character or one they care about. It’s the principal of the thing, they’d say. They don’t welcome change. Disney stories, including Star Wars, seem to be at the top of that list. Seeing fans direct their anger and vitriol at the actors portraying these characters is sad and, frankly, inexcusable.

This topic came to mind because I’m working on a fantasy/horror series—something I’ve always wanted to do. (For whatever reason, I had to get all the other stuff out of the way—the stuff that was haunting me.) I created a slew of characters for the series.

Interestingly, authors now lean toward briefer character descriptions in many genres. Every so often, I’m reading a thriller where the author never describes the characters physically. Me? I like depicting my vision of people and things. However, if I were to have my work chosen for a film adaptation, I’d simply want the first film version’s casting to have the same effect I aimed for with my book characters. For example, I’d prefer the character to be as likable or unlikable as I’d intended, with the right amount of sex appeal and charisma regardless of their hair, eye, skin color, etc. Of course, I’d prefer creative oversight, but that goal would apply either way.

In further retellings, I’d want whoever puts one together to go with a version that feels right for them. I’d say, let your imaginations run wild! The original is always there for anyone who prefers it.

I celebrate diversity. What’s wrong with learning from and about each other? And who can deny that all people, especially children, need positive and accurate portrayals of themselves in books, film, and every other medium? That’s even more critical for underrepresented groups in our society. Inclusion, in a good way, is crucial to one’s self-esteem. 

So, I’m okay with having a brown or black person playing the part of a character described in the book as “having the fairest skin of the land with skin as white as snow.” That was just a physical description. It has nothing to do with the plot. I don’t care if some fable was a Danish tale, and the assumption by a person who isn’t even Danish is that the character should be blah blah blah. We’re talking about fictitious characters here, so I’d need far better reasons to complain. Like an ethnicity, race, gender, or sexual orientation changed or unchanged to provide representation for the underrepresented. And like when it’s essential to the story that a person be this or that.

It’s important to note that sometimes, with casting, you get to see a more appealing, more powerful character than the one from the book. Apparently, when Stephen King saw the film Stand by Me based on his novel, The Body, he was completely blown away. He was speechless, I read, and when he found the words, he said it was the best adaptation of any of his works. I don’t know if his impression included the film’s cast, but I think so because those kids were amazing!

I read, too, that, at first, Anne Rice wasn’t pleased with the casting of Tom Cruise as her beloved Lestat in the film adaptation of Interview with the Vampire. Lestat was her baby and based physically on her husband, who passed away. I can understand that. As a fan, I can say that Tom Cruise was not how I pictured Lestat, but I felt he got the effect she was going for with that character, and he did a good job. Evidently, Anne came to the same conclusion.

I was never going to be disappointed that the teenage Armand from The Vampire Chronicles got ditched for Antonio Banderas. I’m not sure what Anne Rice thought about that, but I can understand how it was quite a leap for some. In at least one version of Armand’s story, he was distressed that Marius had turned him into a vampire when he was so young. In the Interview with the Vampire, he appeared livid about Claudia being a vampire child for the same reason. So yeah, the casting of Armand in that movie could be a legitimate beef. It was a substantive change. At the same time, Armand was a relatively minor character, and it’s not as if he needed a reason to find turning a child into a vampire unacceptable and appalling. Or maybe that was an excuse because he wanted to get her away from Louis and have Louis all to himself. 🤔

But then, again, Antonio. 🔥🔥🔥

He gave us an excellent and entertaining performance.

The bottom line is that we should have fun with all this stuff and enjoy things as much as possible, and some people could be more lighthearted and open-minded. There’s no reason for anyone to get their knickers in a twist, and certainly no reason to be mean.

That’s just what I think, so what do you think when it comes to the casting of your favorite characters? Were there disappointments? Pleasant surprises? As an author who creates characters, I’d love to know.

Black hair Ariel image by John Huxtable from Pixabay

Top image of male fiction character by u_sqyc105ho4 from Pixabay

Antonio Banderas gif from https://media.giphy.com/media/ZOuFj6MYyPL9e/giphy.gif

BOOK REVIEW: DOWN THE TREACLE WELL

While visiting a museum in England, Ben and Kyle experience the extraordinary. Gazing at the Alfred Jewel, an ancient Anglo-Saxon artifact, they watch as it spins, contorts, and evaporates from its case, taking them with it. Whisked back to Victorian England, the brothers are shocked to find themselves sprawled on the floor before Mr. Charles Dodgson, also known as Lewis Carroll, the author of Alice in Wonderland. They soon learn that the famous author’s muse, Alice, is missing. Alice has used the Alfred Jewel to enter Wonderland and, by so doing, has upset the time continuum. The only way for the boys to return home is to locate Alice and return her safely. But Wonderland is a strange and dangerous place…

Ben and Kyle are two kids from Florida visiting England with their mother and anticipating their father’s arrival from his business dealings in Johannesburg. While their mother is attending a conference, the boys are whisked away from present-day Oxford to Oxford in 1864 and ultimately to “Wonderland,” where the literary hero Alice’s adventures once took place. Like Alice, the boys encounter the White Rabbit and the Cheshire Cat, among others. They confront the bizarre Mad Hatter and the cruel Queen of Hearts. They even discover the famous Looking Glass!

People are going to love this reimagining of the classic tale. In her unique way, author Ellis Nelson recaptures the magic. Her remarkable talent and vivid imagination bring it to life again with a new pair of adventurers and a new series of obstacles.

Down the Treacle Well is well-written, flows nicely, and is easy to read. It is also brilliantly clever—fun, funny, warmhearted, and wonderfully descriptive. As a fan of Victorian-era literature, I loved the nostalgic vibe. I think it would make a great film, too—animated or live! Wonderful job by the author.

Available now for pre-order on Amazon.com

Writer of Young Adult and Children’s Fiction:

Ellis Nelson has served as an Air Force officer, government contractor, and teacher. She writes for children and young adults largely under the newly emerging category of visionary fiction. Having returned from living abroad in Europe, she now calls Colorado home. Visit her website to learn more about her and what she’s working on (www.ellisnelson.com).

HOW DO YOU TRIUMPH OVER FEAR?

How do you deal with fear regarding life’s choices and making dreams come true?

I’ve written about the ways I’ve dealt with it. Still, when someone inspires me in another way or validates the direction I’ve been going in, I feel compelled to share it with others.

Derek Hough is the latest to share something that resonated with me.

Derek is a professional Latin and ballroom dancer who trained celebrities on Dancing with the Stars for 17 seasons. Although Derek is only 38 years old, he’s won 13 Emmy nominations for his choreography—the most anyone has ever won in that category. He’s been a judge on Dancing with the Stars for three seasons now, and he’s heading into his fourth.

Yes, I love Dancing with the Stars. Yes, I’m a fan of Derek’s. I think he’s phenomenal.

When asked how he overcame his fear of putting himself out there, Derek said, “I believe that gratitude is the antidote to fear. You can’t be grateful and fearful at the same time. The second you’re grateful, it’s like the fear just dissipates.” He adds that being present “in a moment of gratitude” is a proven tactic he’s practiced throughout his life—an offering he provides to anyone apprehensive about chasing a dream.

It may sound simple to some, but most people need reminders to keep at it. As a writer, I can say whether it’s the threat of AI, the many ways the industry thwarts and sabotages our efforts, the blood, sweat, and tears, or the reality that there will always be people who don’t like you or what you have to offer, keep going.

It applies to whatever your goal is. We can’t focus on people who don’t see the value in our contributions, have never tried to see that, or won’t support anything we do or ever have a kind thing to say.

Instead, be thrilled and grateful for every encouraging word, any support, or kindness. Realize that every follower, every connection, every pleasant interaction, and expression of appreciation is progress. And go with the momentum.

“If you are distressed by anything external, the pain is not due to the thing itself, but to your estimate of it; and this you have the power to revoke at any moment.”
— Marcus Aurelius

We’re already blessed to have a passion, a dream, and the ability to pursue both. I can’t imagine what it’s like not to have that. Whatever we love to do that much, it’s our passion for a reason. It makes us happy for a reason.

And, speaking of dancing, I wish I knew how to tap dance. I love watching tap dancers. This video is of Derek Hough tap dancing on, you guessed it, Dancing with the Stars.

I also love the jive. In the next video, a much younger Derek dances with his sister, Julianne.

You can skip the videos, of course, but I love all of these. They make me smile because they remind me of freedom, joy, and celebration. I’m so incredibly moved by them, I get tears. Part of that has to do with watching dreams come true.

So, yeah, persevere through all the ups and downs. It’s kind of like singing in the rain. ☔

ヾ(´〇`)ノ✩♬ ₊.🎧⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧🌷📎

“I have learned over the years that when one’s mind is made up, this diminishes fear; knowing what must be done does away with fear.”
— Rosa Parks

Believe in what you do image by Alexa from Pixabay

It’s all in your hands image by Alexa from Pixabay

Do what you love image by Gerd Altmann from Pixabay

Dance like no one’s watching image by Oberholster Venita from Pixabay

TRUST AND SUPPORT FOR MENTAL HEALTH

Next Step Solutions, a team of behavioral health experts, recently conducted a study on the state of mental health in America. The key takeaways were that roughly 50 million Americans were experiencing at least one mental illness and that “55% of adults with mental illness have not received any treatment.”

According to the National Alliance on Mental Illness, “1 in 5 people are affected by mental health issues every year. The other 4 are family and friends.”

UNFORTUNATE REALITIES

Here are some burdensome truths:

  • Many people dealing with these issues don’t have access to treatment.  
  • Many have been denied acceptance, belief, trust, and support because their diagnosis doesn’t fit the preferred narrative.
  • A lot of mental illnesses and disorders stem from trauma. 

Going further on the “preferred narrative” issue, most people who have never suffered from addiction maintain that it’s simply about bad life choices. As a result, some look down their noses at those who struggle with it. While most of us understand that substance abuse is never a good choice, Psyche Central acknowledges that “mental illness and substance use disorder (SUD) often occur together. It’s unclear which issue happens first, but each can contribute to the other.” They further state that genetics may account for 40% to 60% of a person’s vulnerability to addiction.

Further, as noted by the National Institute on Drug Abuse (NIDA), “Drug addiction is classified as a mental illness because addiction changes the brain in fundamental ways, disturbing a person’s normal hierarchy of needs and desires, and substituting new priorities connected with procuring and using drugs.”

DON’T ASSUME YOU KNOW WHAT’S GOING ON

Whatever the illness or disorder someone is dealing, with, please don’t assume that you know what’s going on.

Often, a person appears normal. Their struggle is not displayed for all the world to see, so others can’t determine why they are disabled or have social anxiety, etc. It’s hard to understand what we haven’t experienced. We’re not professionals. However, the individual experiencing these issues has lived with them for a long time. They have likely consulted with professionals. They’ve done the research. It has probably taken them a long time to draw conclusions or get professional validation. So, please, don’t tell them they are wrong.

They’ve been examining their behavior and looking for answers, so please don’t write it off as them conjuring it up for attention. They’re likely not looking for pity but would appreciate a little empathy. If you think it’s just a cry for help, consider helping, not judging. 

Also, please don’t minimalize it or tell them it’s just this or that. When you say, “Oh, everybody has anxiety,” or “Everyone gets depressed, well, yes, but how well do they function? If someone’s level of anxiety or depression makes their lives unmanageable, it’s not the same. There is persistent depressive disorder and major depressive disorder. Extreme anxiety can be problematic for driving, being able to cope and perform under pressure, and so on.

WHEN IT COMES TO KIDS

This one, for me, is the most heartbreaking.

Understandably, parents and other family members prefer that the child not be afflicted with this or that, but remaining in denial doesn’t help anyone. It hurts. It destroys. These kids need someone to seek answers for them, to understand what they’re going through. They shouldn’t have to feel alienated, ashamed, and alone. They certainly don’t deserve to be made fun of or shamed.

Granted, people don’t necessarily realize it when they contribute to the erosion of a child’s self-worth, but kids pay attention to how people treat them, and they get the message loud and clear. I wish I could say it didn’t distort their self-perception and make them more sensitive and insecure, but it does.

And by the time these kids become adults, they lose the motivation to nurture relationships because of what they’ve experienced—people not understanding, not believing, supporting, or trusting them. They ultimately give up.

I know a person who spent many years forcing themselves, with great difficulty, to act how they were expected to —only to have an eventual mental breakdown. This individual was completely broken from having essentially denied who they were all their lives. 

That particular story had to do with autism. 

It seems that when some people think of autism, they think of extreme autism, where you can immediately detect a problem. But we know now that there is a spectrum and that an autistic person can be high-functioning. At the same time, they may have difficulty with social interaction and reading social cues and so suffer from social anxiety. They may have many other issues, and you may notice them or not because many of them will do their best to act “normal.”

MY PLEA

We don’t have to tolerate bad behavior but please don’t vilify or demonize someone simply for having a mental illness or disorder.

If children are having difficulty, help them, please. Whether it’s a child or an adult reaching out to you, please listen with an open heart when they try to tell you what’s going on.

Too many people feel tremendous anguish and pain these days, so let’s all be part of the solution. Caring and trying to understand is always a great start.

WHILE YOU’RE UP ON THAT SUPREME PEDESTAL

Placing people on pedestals is one of the often-overlooked issues manifested by addiction. That’s because, as with any other addiction, our perception gets clouded, and our judgment is impaired, so we are confused. I talked about it in my memoir, Grateful to be Alive, because I did it myself for many years.

It’s not lovers alone we can place on a pedestal but parents, siblings, relatives, friends. The list goes on.

You can be the one putting someone on the pedestal or the one placed on the pedestal. I’ve been on both sides, and neither is good. It’s a disaster waiting to happen because when reality kicks in, and it will, the pedestal crumbles, and it’s a heart-wrenching plummet to the bottom. The unrealistic expectations we harbor lead to our devastating disappointment.

So, how do we know when someone is on a pedestal?

When relationships begin, it often seems that one or the other or both can do no wrong. It’s all worship and adoration, even if they haven’t spent nearly enough time together. People do fall in love quickly sometimes. It’s kind of the fairytale.

But what if your ego and addiction are clouding your perception? What if we construct what we want, need, and desperately crave to feed that ego and addiction—someone to be the perfect channel for what we require? I’m not talking about just thinking highly of someone or being authentically fond of them. I’m talking about idealization, where we’re fond of what we want that person to be and what we’ve convinced ourselves that they are. I’m talking about when, sadly, whatever we’re feeling has little, if anything, to do with them.

It may be someone we expect to give us attention, validation, admiration, and more, but they fall short and make us work hard for it. Or they may be a stand-in for someone like that because they fit the bill and seem more than willing to play along. Usually, it’s because they think the interest is genuine, and they’re flattered, or the attraction is mutual.

So, we elevate them almost to the status of a god. We hang onto their every word and obsess about everything they say and do. We can’t get enough of them. We propel the relationship into the accelerated lane. They became the hero in our story—for the moment or the era. They can tell you they’re not that person, or you are mistaken about some idea that makes it seem they walk on water, but you dismiss that.

We ignore any red flags or flaws they have, even when they are staring us in the face. We forget that everyone has flaws. At the same time, it’s typical for our perception of this “hero” to go from one extreme to another. This paragon of the ideal either walks on water or is a monster. We decide they can’t live without us, yet we fear we will lose them. We trust them; then we don’t. However, when there is so much as a hint of disloyalty or betrayal on their part, even with little to no evidence, we come out of denial momentarily, and we rage at them. We punish them, at least, in passive-aggressive ways. They’re not really allowed to do anything to destroy our image of them.

Those up on the pedestal can’t possibly live up to the image we created of them or meet all of those expectations we have because what we want is the fantasy—not the human being donning the costume. Before long, however, we return to denial to repeat the same cycle. We keep focusing on the good we want to see because shattering our illusions is somehow worse than remaining in a toxic relationship. Eventually, that final fall will happen, and it will be over.  

I used the word toxic because we are toxic when we are this fragile. We hurt people or put them in harm’s way. We put ourselves in harm’s way, too, because what we have is an obsession—a persistent, disturbing preoccupation with an unreasonable idea or feeling. Whoever is on the pedestal has all the power and can damage someone beyond repair if they want to. This idol we’ve manifested has become our dependency, our drug. If they want to take advantage of the situation, they’ll give us what we crave in spades—validation, attention, admiration, etc. They’ll instinctively know or learn to withhold it when necessary to regain control, so when it’s dangled before us, we can’t resist. Sooner rather than later, the relationship brings us tremendous pain for some fleeting moments of joy, we still crave it. A sense of emptiness prevails, and it hurts. It hurts a lot. We sense we are in bondage, and we are because we are at the mercy of our obsession. We are mentally, emotionally, and sometimes physically sick.

All the while, we may swear that we love them to no end, but we don’t. We can’t love someone we don’t see. Love, as they say, is patient. I can assure you that obsession is not. I’ve found that people need to become friends before anything else and get to know one another before moving from fanciful idealization to genuine love.

A pedestal is the most insidious prison ever devised.
Neal Shusterman

Peacock on marble pedestal image by Ron Porter from Pixabay

Nobody is perfect image by by Alexa from Pixabay

JUST MY THOUGHTS ABOUT RECENT NEWS

The recent backlash over the Titan submersive disaster still unnerves me, so I needed to organize some thoughts.

Aside from the mocking memes and jokes, people were chastised for having any empathy for the victims because they were rich and chose to do this dangerous thing, spending $250,000 for the privilege. They could have helped all the starving people, many said. Facebook posters expressed, in no uncertain terms, that rich people were evil and didn’t care about others, and they only got where they’d gotten by harming and exploiting others.

It was the same during the pandemic. Some gloated whenever the stock market plunged, like, “Haha, the rich people.” It didn’t seem to matter to them that the stock market and the economy impact each other. It affects everyone. It didn’t seem to occur to them either that not everyone who owns stock is wealthy or even close. A lot of people who have worked all their lives invest in their eventual retirement.

I have to say, it doesn’t matter to me who is on the receiving end of tragedy—I hate to see any living being suffering. There’s not a person I can think of who has been harmful to me in my life that I want to see suffer. It’s just the way I’ve always been.

Take politics, for example—I want the crimes of politicians investigated, the same as I’d want any other crimes investigated. It doesn’t matter what party they belong to or their socioeconomic status or race or sexual preference or ethnicity, or religion. I want justice, but it doesn’t mean I enjoy seeing people suffer the consequences of their actions.

What I would enjoy is people not taking advantage, not committing crimes thinking they are above the law, and learning from their mistakes. That’s what I would enjoy.

I remember a story I heard years ago from a Rikers Island corrections officer here in New York. It was about what inmates did to a convicted rapist. Rapists are very low on my list for compassion, as anyone who knows me will tell you, but what this officer described to me, what they did to that guy, was hard to hear, hard to stomach, and it didn’t give me any pleasure. I’m glad the guy was incarcerated for his crimes so that he couldn’t harm anyone else, but I don’t get pleasure from his additional suffering.

It’s not in me.

People have said, “Well, what if it was so and so on the Titan sub?” I’ll skip the name, but no, it gives me no pleasure.

I can understand the anger people feel, though. The disparity of wealth angers me, too. People are struggling, more and more of them losing jobs and finding themselves homeless, while many wealthy people don’t even pay their taxes. Senator Bernie Sanders said in his March 29, 2021, op-ed, “Over the past 40 years, there has been a massive transfer of wealth from the middle class and working families to the very wealthiest people in America. The United States cannot prosper and remain a vigorous democracy when so few have so much and so many have so little.”

No one should take advantage of any system to exploit or oppress others. And because we always see that happening, it’s easy for people to be wary and think that anyone who has success would likely take advantage as well. One person suggested that the collective trauma of this reality is what sets people off to being callous themselves. “Maybe it’s a coping mechanism,” he said. “Maybe it helps.”

Yeah, if people are taking advantage of the system, that’s not okay. But don’t assume that they are.

Sure, you’ll find rich people who are cruel. But there are callous people in every walk of life, people who take advantage of others, hurt and destroy others, all walks of life. You don’t need to be rich to do that, and you don’t have to do that if you’re rich.

As they say in Alcoholics Anonymous, it takes all kinds. I used to think if someone was in recovery, they had to have become a good person in the process, right? A wise person assured me that some of them are awesome people. Some are truly unkind. And there’s everything in between. No matter what group you’re talking about, it takes all kinds.

Everyone wants to live the American dream, and many people work hard to achieve that. Aside from whatever else they do, many have spent billions to combat disease and improve healthcare worldwide. Some fight for gun safety, urban development, and other charitable foundations. They fund criminal justice reform, immigration reform, healthcare, and housing. A number of them, along with many big-name actors, are devoted to human rights issues and are making a difference across the globe. Some have spent millions on environmental causes and conservation. Big stars in the music industry have also donated millions to charity.

And yet, some people will say they’re just doing for clout or some other selfish purpose with no evidence of these claims. So, they are damned if they do, damned if they don’t. I still say you can’t assume what a person is doing or has done or will do and why. Many people donating, helping, and advocating are passionate about those causes.

Those who make dangerous voyages and are willing to spend a fortune to do it are also passionate about their causes. The ocean is this planet’s largest ecosystem, and we’re constantly learning more about it thanks to scientists and explorers.

The Brooklyn CUNY website states, “Because they are often driven by their curiosity about how our world functions, scientists are in the unique position to create new knowledge, and that leads them to develop new technologies.” So, yeah, scientific research is essential. Anyone concerned about climate change should know that the deep sea is a significant factor. 

So, I’m glad certain people have the curiosity and passion to explore. We need people like that. Maybe that’s why they are fearless. I know that when you are passionate about what you do, you will do it no matter what. That’s how I feel about writing. No matter what happens or doesn’t happen, I’ll never not do it. I can’t. So, I, and many others, can relate to people with passions and dreams.

As for the collective trauma, I realize that I have my own trauma responses to:

  1. Prejudice
  2. Character assassination
  3. Assumptions
  4. Not being given the benefit of the doubt

Some of the reactions I witnessed during the backlash reminded me that I don’t like anyone telling me how to feel or what to do in situations where people dispensing the advice don’t have all the facts, don’t really know how I feel or why, and, therefore, have no idea what they’re talking about. It’s consistent with their one-size-fits-all mentality. They’re quick to label you and put you into a category. They mock your viewpoint and minimalize the situation.

It’s what certain individuals do to people in marginalized groups, and I’m against it across the board. Look at all people as individuals rather than lump them into stereotypes.

If you need to make fun of tragedies that befall the perceived enemy, and that helps, you do you. But then let me be me because I don’t have the stomach for it. I just don’t.

Under sea image by PublicDomainPictures from Pixabay

Red and blue masks image by Mohamed Hassan from Pixabay

Heart, stars, love image by emmagrau from Pixabay

Little girl and heart image by Veronica Colombo from Pixabay

LOVE AND RESPECT FOR ALL HUMANKIND

People say, “You can judge a man by how he treats his inferiors.” I say no! We don’t have inferiors! Some people have more apparent talent or money, better positions, fancier cars, higher functioning brains, or genes that make them appear more attractive, but there is no reason for anyone—and I do mean anyone— to hang on to an illusion of superiority.

There’s a lockstep mentality that passes from generation to generation. Parents teach bigotry, and, to many, their parents can never be wrong. With a subconscious or even conscious fear of not being accepted or not fitting in with their loved ones, these children embrace the ideologies passed on to them and, in doing so, form alliances that continue to reinforce them into adulthood.

In terms of religion, I never want to shut people down for believing or not believing what the various holy books say. I can’t dismiss the cherry-pickers seeking to find a safe middle ground. If a person has genuinely “lost their way,” they can find it again. I’ve met good, kindhearted people of just about every faith, so simply believing and practicing a religion isn’t the problem. People are entitled to their beliefs so long as they’re not committing or otherwise condoning crimes against humanity.

As someone who is fifty percent Latina, I’ve also experienced racism on a minor scale, and it gave me some idea of what it might be like for people who experience hate, discrimination, and oppression on a much larger scale. If you are a member of any group that is oppressed to one degree or another, you are acutely aware of the global and systematic imbalance. As a result, many of us have a pretty good idea of how terrorizing it can be when your rights are denied, or you’re not treated with the respect and dignity you deserve.

For me, opposing bigotry is not about being “politically correct.” Having empathy for others is simply correct. People go to war over bias and entitlement. They discriminate and violently target others based on the same. It becomes a case of “We hate the same faction, so it’s clear who the enemy is.”

It’s not about tolerance, either. There’s a lot of destructive and harmful behavior that I can’t and won’t tolerate. But who am I to merely “tolerate” a person’s ethnicity, sexuality, socioeconomic status, or religious philosophy? Those are things to be welcomed, not tolerated. I don’t want anyone’s rights to be denied any more than I’d want my own rights restricted. There was never a time when that did not feel inhumane to me.

Detractors are fond of saying that people who defend the rights of others who are denied whatever privilege they enjoy have a “savior complex.” When I first heard that, I allowed myself to ponder it for a bit, given that I’ve been speaking out against bigotry since I was twelve. It was instinctive then, and it’s instinctive now because I never wanted to live in a world where bigotry was normal. It never made a difference to me if people on either side were happy or unhappy about my stance.

It always made sense to me that you cannot know a person just because you’re aware of their race, ethnicity, religion, or sexuality. No group is perfect. You need to get to know individuals because we are all different.

For many people, when someone who is not like them hurts them, they postulate that it reflects on that group’s culture. They won’t consider their own people who’ve done the same thing or worse. Without having genuine relationships with the people from whatever culture they shun, their impression is based on limited experience. They go by stereotypes or by what they’ve read in the news or learned from TV.

I’ve experienced unprovoked attacks from people who did not look like me, but I’ve also been attacked by my “own” people, and although my worst experiences of sexual trauma were at the hands of white, Italian Catholic males, I’ve always known that not every white, Catholic Italian guy is that way. That same benefit of the doubt should be extended to people who belong to different groups.

Among the things I’d been taught, what truly stuck with me in life was the whole “love one another” thing. Yes, I really liked that part. Isn’t it a fundamental theme in all religions? No one is perfect, but if we can do better, we should. Life’s hard enough, and it helps if we cheer each other on along the way.

If we must keep influencing our children with our thoughts, let those thoughts be reminders that we are all divine, and divinity surrounds us, and in that way, we have much more power than we realize. We have that power for a reason. We don’t see everything yet, and we don’t know everything, but we are creating the future—the world we want to live in, and the world we will leave our children. We can keep evolving toward a much higher consciousness and create the idyllic world we envision.

I read something recently that said we should treat everyone as sacred until they begin to believe they are. That is the ideal way to live, isn’t it? It might solve many problems in our world, individually and collectively. I’d love to commit myself to that, to remind myself of that always.

So, whoever you are, you are beautiful! You are a divine creation and the very essence of love. Don’t let anyone take that away from you!

“For to be free is not merely to cast off one’s chains, but to live in a way that respects and enhances the freedom of others.” —Nelson Mandela, former President of South Africa, political leader, philanthropist.

“If we accept and acquiesce in the face of discrimination, we accept the responsibility ourselves and allow those responsible to salve their conscience by believing that they have our acceptance and concurrence. We should, therefore, protest openly everything… that smacks of discrimination or slander.” —Mary McLeod Bethune, political activist, organizer, and educator. 

Feature photo at the top by Ehimetalor Akhere Unuabona on Unsplash

“Make People Feel Loved Today” photo by Clay Banks on Unsplash

I BELIEVED THAT HE LOVED ME

However, all the while, l clung to the belief that he loved me. He was a brave, modest man, generous with his assistance and advice—there as a rock, always. As a child, I worried obsessively about him when it was near time for him to come home from work—that something would happen to him, and he might not make it home to us. I guess you can say my love for him was as out of proportion as my fear of him.

Grateful to Be Alive: My Road to Recovery from Addiction by [D.K. Sanz]

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Feature image of father and child walking and image of father with baby by StockSnap from Pixabay 

WELCOME TO MY TOTALLY ABSURD DREAMS

It was a recurring dream for many years.

I’m in the bleak underground, waiting for a train. There’s just enough light from the incandescent lamps to cast a dingy yellow glow. Trains pass, but they look ancient. Still, they are un-defaced by familiar graffiti. Near the passenger doors, the stops each train would make are listed on a flipping board. I don’t recognize any of these places.

Rooted to the platform, I ask strangers for directions. None of them have ever heard of this place I want to go to—never heard of Woodside, Queens.  Lost and disoriented, I feel deep distress and despair.

In my mind, I recall Manhattan’s glittering skyscrapers seen at a distance, beyond the river and the bridge. I remember my train rumbling speedily toward the heart of Queens, passing through the tunnel into sunlight. Sometimes, I’d catch the sunsets when my train emerged from the tunnels, and I was in awe of the dark navy sky and its sweeping reign over the houses with their golden-lit windows. Or the trail of light orange and the vibrant, darker orange that faded into a pale gray sky.

The strangers around me finally mention places that sound somewhere near where I want to go—still far, but I have some hope I’ll get closer. I’ll get there eventually. And I’m willing to settle for that.

Oddly, we’re outside now, still on the platform, but it’s more colorful here. I see trees and recognize the stranger beside me, but he’s barely an acquaintance. The train chugs along, but it’s too crowded when it arrives. I can’t get in, but he does. There’s simply no room for me. I don’t fit.

Suddenly, another train barrels toward me, its rapid arrival quite unexpected. I hear the beeps and clangs, and I think, “That’s the one.”

Without hesitation, I scramble on board. I never check where it’s headed. We travel farther and farther away from all that’s familiar. Soon, I am far from the place I call home and everything and everyone I had ever known. We pass an endless green sea with a boat in the distance. We are somewhere remote. I don’t recognize this place.

My dreams are vivid, yes, and colorful, and my recollection of them is thorough.

In another persistent dream I’ve had since my recovery, and until recently, I ride a motorcycle that I’m so proud to be riding. (I’ve only ever ridden on the back of one.) As the dream progresses, the motorcycle becomes a bicycle, which I did ride as a kid, and, in the dream, I’m still thrilled because I’m cruising everywhere, including up and down the dark streets of Woodside, my old stomping ground.

I’m experiencing freedom in this dream, and I’m celebrating it, so I’m happy. Except that the bike gets smaller and smaller until I’m on a tricycle that I’ve obviously outgrown.

There’s also a recurrent nightmare where I have to get home from Roosevelt Avenue—that walk home at night from the park I’d dreaded as a kid, as well as the route home after work from the train station when I lived in Woodside. It’s light at first in the dream but gets darker and darker until it’s completely dark. I’m never a kid in the dream, but, still, the dilemma frustrates me and plays out as an obsession. Whatever way I choose to go, that long, seemingly deserted hill can’t be avoided, which in reality is true unless I take the route from the crowded, brightly lit storefront area on 61st Street. Even then, I’d have to go past the place on Woodside Avenue where it’s eerily quiet at night.

More recently, I dreamt that I was stranded somewhere and ran into my parents. I asked for a ride home, and they refused for some reason that made no sense. At first, I thought, well, it’s beginning to snow now and starting to get dark, but I’ll make it. As I walked, it continued to grow darker. The snowfall became heavier, so I tried running. Creepy people tried to lure me into alleys. Somehow, though, I got past those creatures and arrived home.

My son was asleep in his room. I must’ve gone to sleep, too. In that same dream, I awoke in the dark to find the door locks broken off the door. A sign was on the front door saying, I hate you. I will destroy you. It was written in blood. People with cold, angry eyes and a few angels floated around the room. They did nothing to physically harm me, but they were holding my son captive, so I charged in there like a martial arts movie hero, kicking them all. They had an invisible shield I couldn’t penetrate, so I went to the door, opened it, and began screaming and begging for help. No one answered.

Now, I can easily interpret what that awful nightmare meant, but David said, “You should never go to sleep. Your dreams are horrifying.”

That had me splitting my sides, and he was equally amused.

Transportation is a common theme in these dreams, and I am moving by bike, train, or on foot. I think, symbolically, it has to do with where I’m going—my path or journey, my goal, and whatever happens in getting there. There’s the persistent question of whether I’m heading in the right direction, and, according to a book I’d read a about dreams, train stations represent transformation. I don’t think any of these dreams suggest I am lost, but I am consistently unable to go home, and I don’t fit or belong there.

The destination is always Woodside, although I haven’t lived there in decades and will never have to make that walk again from any street. Woodside, with its good, its bad, its horror, and its beauty, will always be special to me, and I get those bittersweet pangs of nostalgia when anyone so much as mentions my hometown of Queens. However, my fear at the time I lived there was possibly intense enough to carve out a permanent space in my subconscious mind. Or, it merely represents a place of origin because I’ve wondered if, in order to persist with your ultimate goals, you can’t go back.

The “threats” in my dreams are all of the obstacles.

Interestingly, I was about to say I hadn’t had a “train” dream in a while, but one occurred the other night. In this one, all the subway stops had their names changed. Some were crazy names like Anywhere You Want to Go, while others simply said 50th Road or some other ordinary thing. Per the usual, I had no idea where any of those stops would leave me on the way to Woodside. The platform on this station was perilously narrow, so I had to be careful, even sidestepping rocks while navigating what little room I had.

On a lighter note, I once dreamt I was a cookie, and mobs of people chased me, wanting to eat me. Amused, I told David that I’d had that dream.

“Of course, you did,” he replied, and we shared a good laugh.

Excerpt on ‘Dreams’ from Grateful to be Alive – My Road to Recovery from Addiction by D.K. Sanz

Woman sleeping/night moon feature photo by IceRedfield from Pixabay 

Train image by annca from Pixabay 

Monster in window image by 1tamara2 from Pixabay 

Train station image by Igor Ovsyannykov from Pixabay 

Gingerbread man image by artistlike from Pixabay 

A DAY IN MY BEST LIFE

Sometimes it takes a while to realize you’re overwhelmed, your patience is wearing thin, and you’re stressed. But the moment you acknowledge that you’re overwhelmed, the situation can go from chaotic to manageable.

In these past couple of weeks, I have been getting CT scans and bloodwork. Two days or so ago, I had an MRI. The scans showed no metastasis of the stage 1 cancer, so they scheduled my surgery for May 26 to remove the malignant polyp. They seem optimistic that I won’t require further treatment, but they can’t be sure until they do a biopsy. All of that is great.

In the meantime, however, it’s been, “Can you just swing by here tomorrow and sign an authorization? And on the day you go for the surgical pre-testing, just swing by the doctor’s office to pick up the instructions and other stuff. You know where he is, in Great Neck. Oh, and It’s a good idea to get a Covid booster before surgery if you’re not up to date.”

I love the “swing by” stuff, like everything is right next door. Anyone who knows me knows I’m not exactly the “just swing by” type. I also have a dental appointment next week, and my annual physical is the week after, so I need to do some juggling.

Meanwhile, I’m planning an online virtual book tour and working with an audiobook narrator for Grateful to Be Alive. I’ve been listening to her tapes and making editing notes for her. She thanked me profusely for the edits because other authors never worked with her on the script, whereas I even gave her the exact marks on the tape. I can’t fathom why anyone would not do that. I mean, it’s your book, and you want it to sound right. You also don’t want it to take forever, so you help move it along.

Besides all of that and no matter what, we have to make time to do the things that give us moments of bliss. I’m alternately working on my fantasy novel all the time, which makes the mundane tasks doable. Also, finding time to read. Fresh air helps, and music helps. Streaming is a nice escape too.

Of course, as we all know, there are the usual things we have to do on top of whatever project or crisis we’re dealing with. There’s work, laundry, shopping, making important phone calls, and, oh yeah, blogging. I think about the package in the hall I have yet to open. I think about so and so and make a note to drop a message saying I hope all goes well with such and such.

Isn’t this all of us, though? Or maybe it’s most of us. I don’t know, but we are good, aren’t we? We go on and on and on. We find ourselves here, and as we grow, we do everything possible to make things work—make our lives work. We do everything to improve our situations and keep everything under control, the things that are there for us to manage. We accept the challenges.

The issue is for me right now (and for many) is keeping it simple. It isn’t easy to relax under pressure, but we kind of have to. I forget to drop my shoulders, breathe, and stay in the solution. What can I control, and what can I not control?

I learned about KISS (Keep it simple, stupid) in a twelve-step program. Wikipedia says it’s a design principle noted by the U.S. Navy in 1960. It means things have gotten too complicated, and it’s time to “uncomplicate them.”

What helps me is I’m a list maker. I have to make lists, or I will forget to do something or another, and I have to constantly prioritize. Lists are revised as needed as often as needed. When I’m overwhelmed, that makes me breathe a little easier. What first? What next? One step at a time.

And when it comes to the mundane, I tell myself I don’t “have” to do these things; I “get” to do them. There’s a lot I can do that will save my life, a lot I can do that will help me, and a lot I can do that will strengthen me. I am creating and living the life I love. I got this.

Actually, I am one of the lucky ones. I am one of the happy ones. So, “Bring it on,” I say. I’ll be fine.

If you are feeling overwhelmed right now, I’m rooting for you, and I hope this helps.

Feature photo way at the top by Myriam from Pixabay 

SOBER BY THE GRACE OF GOD

One of the most significant concepts of the 12-step program of recovery can be difficult for those whose beliefs don’t align with the typical vision.

I remember being told in meetings that “EGO” was, essentially, “edging God out.” Not mentioning “Him” or crediting “Him” for your success in staying sober would raise many eyebrows.

We were told that “A.A. works for people who believe in God. A.A. works for people who don’t believe in God. A.A. never works for people who think they are God.”

I was also taught, in meetings, that “A.A. isn’t a religion. We can’t open the gates of Heaven and let you in, but we can open the gates of Hell and let you out.”

All of it confused me, as a newcomer, all those years ago.

The program literature clearly states that we surrender to a power greater than ourselves—as we understood that greater power to be. It’s important because we’re told that our journey to wellness begins only when we surrender to that higher power.

Sure, for many people, that is the Abrahamic God. Others rely on the deity or deities of a different faith. And, for some of us, there is our ancestral religion and the polytheistic or pantheistic worship of nature as the divine.

The program was never meant to exclude atheists or agnostics, either. They may see their higher power as their higher consciousness and moral compass. You don’t need a religion to have either of those things.

God can even be a celebration of all that is good, believing all that is good is God. GOD, as many have said, also stands for “good orderly direction.”

When we look at it that way, the program’s God-related slogans apply, regardless of our vision of the divine.

Let Go and Let God.

Trust God.

If God seems far away, who moved?

But for the Grace of God, there go I.

And because we are advised to pray daily, we are reminded, in the program, that trying to pray is praying, and that prayer can be well wishes, good thoughts, positive energy, and just sending love and light.

Spirituality is the ability to get our minds off ourselves and to rely on better judgment, regardless of where that comes from on a day-to-day basis. And just wanting to be a decent human being counts. It counts a lot.

Feature photo at the top by Artem Sapegin on Unsplash

Sober graphic made by D.K. Sanz on Canva

YOU BELIEVE WHAT YOU NEED TO

AVAILABLE ON KINDLE NOW:

Do unsettling truths bring harsh judgment? They do, but the price of denial is steep.

D.K. Sanz’s story begins in the drug-infested New York City streets of Woodside, Queens, during the tumultuous HIV/AIDS pandemic of the Eighties and Nineties. It offers a glimpse into how a now often-overlooked pandemic impacted Sanz’s nuclear family. 

From her earliest days, Sanz was the easily forgotten stranger, always a little out of sync with the rest of the world—a tough but naive kid and aspiring writer.  Her triumph over illness and addiction includes amusing anecdotes and nostalgic, heartwarming memories.

Deep-dive into Sanz’s confessional self-sabotage, self-destruction, and the harrowing downward spiral she almost didn’t survive. Her never-before-told story ranges from recklessness and impudence to empathy, forgiveness, and love.

Sanz has since published several books under the name Kyrian Lyndon, primarily poetry but also a novel, and she continues to work on sequels and an all-new fantasy series. You’ll find some of her poetry at the end of this book.

Whether struggling or not, you will find Grateful to be Alive is a story of hope, defying insurmountable odds, finding joy, and a gradual transition toward authenticity and becoming the person Sanz always wanted to be.

“Addiction, at its worst, is akin to having Stockholm Syndrome. You’re like a hostage who has developed an irrational affection for your captor. They can abuse you, torture you, even threaten to kill you, and you’ll remain inexplicably and disturbingly loyal.”  -Anne Clendening

Addiction is the only prison where the locks are on the inside. — Unknown

Feature image at the top by Khusen Rustamov from Pixabay 

HOW WOULD YOU DEFINE BEAUTY?

Beauty is not in the face; beauty is a light in the heart. – Khalil Gibran

It is time for parents to teach young people early on that in diversity there is beauty and there is strength. – Maya Angelou

COMING SOON!

Grateful to Be Alive

My Road to Recovery from Addiction

by D.K. Sanz

Do unsettling truths bring harsh judgment? They do, but the price of denial is steep.

D.K. Sanz’s story begins in the drug-infested New York City streets of Woodside, Queens, during the tumultuous HIV/AIDS pandemic of the 80s and 90s. It offers a glimpse into how a now often-overlooked pandemic impacted Sanz’s nuclear family. 

From her earliest days, D.K. was the easily forgotten stranger, always a little out of sync with the rest of the world—a tough but naïve kid and aspiring writer. Her triumph over illness and addiction includes amusing anecdotes and nostalgic, heartwarming memories.

Grateful to be Alive delves deep into Sanz’s confessional self-sabotage, self-destruction, and the harrowing downward spiral she almost didn’t survive. Her never-before-told story ranges from recklessness and impudence to empathy, forgiveness, and love.

D.K. has since published several books, primarily poetry but also a novel, and she continues to work on sequels and an all-new fantasy series. You’ll find some of her poetry at the end of this book.

Whether struggling or not, you will find Grateful to Be Alive is a story of hope, defying insurmountable odds, finding joy, and a gradual transition toward authenticity and becoming the person D.K. always wanted to be.

“When you begin this book, you will not put it down. You will immediately be drawn into Sanz’s bold narrative of a woman, throughout her life, passing through “every forbidden door,” as she says of herself. It is a book of continual growth through experience, defeat, and triumph. The prose is swift, concise, full of irony, truth, and poise. You will not find a more startling, revealing memoir. Highly, highly recommended.” ~ Jason T. Masters

If you are interested in obtaining an ARC copy, please e-mail me at dksanz@yahoo.com.

Feature image at the top by Ana_J from Pixabay

DON’T TAKE YOURSELF TOO SERIOUSLY!

There was a time when the people I dealt with were merely making appearances in the soap opera that was my life, or so I must have believed on some level. I starred in it, directed it, and expected each actor to play their role as I created it. Under these circumstances, less-than-favorable outcomes are magnified and often unendurable. Even petty slights are infuriating and upsetting.

In twelve-step programs, it’s called “Rule 62”—Don’t Take Yourself So Seriously! Becoming aware of that and then understanding it and accepting it was another thing pivotal to my recovery.

We have to be able to laugh at ourselves! Have you ever noticed that people who take themselves too seriously are the perfect target for internet trolls? I observed one guy on Twitter complaining that trolls wouldn’t leave him alone. It was evident from his feed that he’d been sitting around, answering them for quite some time. That is a waste of energy because trolls are devoid of empathy.

Bullies tend to throw stuff out there to see what will stick. They know it when they hit a nerve, and they’ll use that to provoke you. The more misery they cause, the happier they are. These are not people you can reason with or convince. If they can’t get a rise out of you, it’s not fun for them. So, it’s best never to “feed a troll”—not so much as a crumb.

We don’t have to tolerate bad behavior, but we don’t have to live in agony because of other people’s behavior and perceptions. And we don’t have to be obsessed with damage control. That’s a full-time job, with plenty of unpaid overtime. And it’s exhausting! Allowing people to infuriate us and rob us of our serenity gives others way too much power over us. Humility saves us from ourselves, keeping us aware that we’re human and flawed.

Before I understood Rule 62, I told someone, “It’s not that I want to be better than others. It’s the opposite; I strive to be acceptable because I feel inadequate.”

Inadequate in my view because I aimed for perfection. I didn’t understand that I wore my inferiority complex inside out. I’d taken it to the superiority complex level, never realizing that those were two sides of the same coin. It never occurred to me that I held myself to a higher standard than others.

The first thing I had to do was take myself down off the pedestal. (Yes, we can put ourselves on pedestals, too.) I had to realize that I was not the star of everyone’s show. Things are happening to everyone on the planet—not just me.

Before I grasped “Rule 62,” I expected fairness, always, no matter what. I had to learn that there’s so much about this life that isn’t right, and life’s been far more unfair to others than to me. It’s all relative, and I had to process the fact that while we can fight for justice when appropriate, life ultimately isn’t fair, period. Accepting that removed a tremendous burden from my shoulders.

Humility, in my view, is something we continually strive for, not a trait we crown ourselves with because we’ve risen to sainthood. And none of what I’m saying here means we’re not important, or we shouldn’t have healthy egos. But if we try not to perceive ourselves as overly important (more so than anyone else, anyway), then we’re less biased when it comes to ourselves. We’re able to recognize certain things for what they are and not take so much personally—be it constructive criticism, a bit of teasing, or someone being an ass.

It helps me to acknowledge that I’m not this person the whole world is watching and with staggering expectations, hoping I will fail. Also, if we stop looking for adversaries, perceived enemies, and their agendas, for the most part, they somehow cease to exist.

It comes back to balance for me, but when you’re able to keep an open mind, discernment about what to take personally and what to blow off becomes more effortless.

As an author, I put my words out there in a world divided on many topics. The varying opinions don’t always come from someone with a reasonable frame of reference. Someone may read about a tragic event and say it isn’t an accurate portrayal. You can write about something that actually happened or describe exactly how it was, and someone might view it as a misrepresentation because that’s not what they experienced. People do have personal biases and triggers. Sometimes, they’re turned off by something that has more to do with them than with you. I’ve noticed fellow writers getting two-star book reviews for reasons unrelated to the book. Internet trolls may say negative things merely because they can. Also, the best writers out there have had plenty of critics.

But not every critic is a troll, which is essential to acknowledge. Some people don’t have a vested interest in us and are not biased, and, quite often, they’re right on the money.

A bit of lightheartedness and a good sense of humor are critical.

Years ago, I realized I could change my relationship with criticism by changing my perspective. Criticism isn’t comfortable, and we don’t like feeling uncomfortable, so we tell ourselves we can’t handle it. If we take ourselves out of that fear mode, acknowledging that we’re not comfortable but can handle it, it’s easier to decide how we’ll do that. Stressing makes things worse.

In those moments, it also helps to remember we’re not alone—others are going through it or have been through it. I tell myself I’m no less capable of handling it than they are, and it only seems so much worse because it’s happening to me.

Sadly, though, some people fear criticism and rejection so much that they don’t pursue their dreams or find true happiness.

As far as I can tell, we must keep listening to learn. On a personal and professional level, there’s always room for improvement. I am obsessed with learning more and more about things that knocked me for a loop when I had to deal with them in others or myself. I can’t help being grateful for these opportunities and challenges to overcome the obstacles that derailed me.

Falling in love with the process of learning, growing, evolving, and recovering helps us to succeed more and suffer less. It’s about wanting to be the best we can be. It’s okay to be vulnerable, but only as long as we know we are and how! Then, instead of worrying about how others perceive us, we do what we do from the heart. I tell myself this: I’m another person trying to learn and figure things out here. We are transmundane beings in an astounding old universe. We are vulnerable—not merely to the force of nature and random happenings, but to each other. Life gets better when we accept ourselves as a part of everything rather than the center of everything.

I maintain that until we fully heal from whatever we need to recover from, we remain in bondage to something or another and are prone to obsessions. Disentangling ourselves from that is a painful process, but as I witness people becoming who they were before the pain and unwarranted shame, I have no doubt what awareness can do. It tells me there’s hope for everyone.

*Excerpted from my forthcoming memoir, Grateful to Be AliveMy Road to Recovery from Addiction*

Feature image at the top by Stefan Keller from Pixabay 

HERE ARE ALL THE LUCKY GIVEAWAY WINNERS!

1st prize – $50 gift certificate with a signed paperback copy of Grateful to Be Alive – Winner: Scott Wade
2nd prize – $25 gift card with a signed paperback copy of Grateful to Be Alive – Winner: Jason T. Masters
3rd prize – $15 gift card with a signed paperback copy of Grateful to Be Alive – Winner: Patrick Mullikin
4th, 5th, and 6th prize – a signed paperback copy of Grateful to Be Alive – Winners: Dominick Petrellese, Genevieve Strathman Snow, and Jack Lyons

I would also like to offer free Kindle books to: Andrea Carroll, Ellis Nelson, Elena, ahblogs, and Adverting Agency

Congratulations to the winners, and thank you all so much for participating. Above all, thank you for your support, enthusiasm, and encouragement. You have no idea how much I appreciate it! It means the world to me.

I will also post these results on Facebook and attempt to notify winners by e-mail or private message.

If you’ve won a paperback copy of my book, I will need a home or P.O. address to mail it to you. If you’ve won a Kindle copy of the book or a gift card, I will need your e-mail address. Please message me the information on Facebook or send it to me at dksanz@yahoo.com.

Feature image by Gerd Altmann from Pixabay 


HE SHOT MY SWEET, LOVELY FRIEND

COMING SOON!

EXCERPT:

“Kristina went dancing at a club in the Bronx with a friend. Upon their return, they talked in the car for a while. Of course, it was pitch-dark by then and eerily quiet when, quite suddenly, a man crept out of the shadows, aiming a .44 revolver at point-blank range. He didn’t know them, but they were his target.
One of several shots he fired hit Kristina in the head. In an instant, she slumped over and collapsed onto the pavement. She had no time to scream, and I doubt she ever noticed him. But, just like that, she was dead.
 A friend called me at work to break the news. Before I could put the phone down, all eyes were on me—the eyes of shocked and curious coworkers gauging my reaction. Speculation ensued within earshot.
‘Maybe it was a mob hit. Her family’s Italian.’
‘What was she doing out at two o’clock in the morning?’
It infuriated me that Kristina’s integrity was in question because she was the victim. I was stunned into silence. I had chills. But despite the crushing pain, I didn’t cry until later, when the distress made me wonder again about the divine protection we so naïvely expected. Why Kristina? I had to ask. Why anyone? But why Kristina?”

Grateful to Be Alive

My Road to Recovery from Addiction

by D.K. Sanz

Do unsettling truths bring harsh judgment? They do, but the price of denial is steep.

D.K. Sanz’s story begins in the drug-infested New York City streets of Woodside, Queens, during the tumultuous HIV/AIDS pandemic of the 80s and 90s. It offers a glimpse into how a now often-overlooked pandemic impacted Sanz’s nuclear family. 

From her earliest days, D.K. was the easily forgotten stranger, always a little out of sync with the rest of the world—a tough but naïve kid and aspiring writer. Her triumph over illness and addiction includes amusing anecdotes and nostalgic, heartwarming memories.

Grateful to be Alive delves deep into Sanz’s confessional self-sabotage, self-destruction, and the harrowing downward spiral she almost didn’t survive. Her never-before-told story ranges from recklessness and impudence to empathy, forgiveness, and love.

D.K. has since published several books, primarily poetry but also a novel, and she continues to work on sequels and an all-new fantasy series. You’ll find some of her poetry at the end of this book.

Whether struggling or not, you will find Grateful to Be Alive is a story of hope, defying insurmountable odds, finding joy, and a gradual transition toward authenticity and becoming the person D.K. always wanted to be.

“When you begin this book, you will not put it down. You will immediately be drawn into Sanz’s bold narrative of a woman, throughout her life, passing through “every forbidden door,” as she says of herself. It is a book of continual growth through experience, defeat, and triumph. The prose is swift, concise, full of irony, truth, and poise. You will not find a more startling, revealing memoir. Highly, highly recommended.” ~ Jason T. Masters

If you are interested in obtaining an ARC copy, please e-mail me at dksanz@yahoo.com.

Feature image by Mystic Art Design from Pixabay 

THIS IS IT, FRIENDS! ENTER MY GIVEAWAY!

TERMS OF GIVEAWAY:

No purchase is necessary to enter or win, and purchases of books by D.K. Sanz do not enhance an entrant’s chance of winning.

This contest is limited to the United States, void where prohibited, and off-limits to the author’s immediate family members. You must be 18 years old to enter.

By participating in this contest, you agree to the terms and rules and refrain from fraudulent claims, including submitting multiple entries using alternate e-mail addresses. Violation will result in disqualification. 

I will provide a complete list of winners on this blog on March 25

Winners must provide the info to claim their prizes by April 1. Failure to do so will result in disqualification.

The sponsor of this campaign is Moonlit Dawn Publications, LLC. This contest is in no way sponsored, endorsed, administered by, or associated with Facebook, Instagram, Twitter, Word Press, or any other social media site.

By entering, you agree to release and hold harmless Moonlit Dawn Publications and its representatives from any liability.

Moonlit Dawn Publications is not liable for a winner’s failure to receive notices. Please check your spam/junk mail and security settings.

Moonlit Dawn Publications may terminate or cancel this campaign if necessitated by circumstances beyond our control.

Thank you again for your interest and enthusiasm.

Moonlit Dawn Publications

Mineola, NY

FAQ: MORE ANSWERS TO YOUR QUESTIONS ABOUT THE GIVEAWAY

If you are interested in obtaining an ARC copy for the purpose of reviewing the book, it’s not too late. Please e-mail me at dksanz@yahoo.com.