Purple Tears

I remember where I was the first time I heard Prince’s music. Sitting on the front porch of my grandmother’s house in the very early 80’s listening to “Controversy” and “Little Red Corvette” as I played Barbie dolls with my cousin, who was a bully.

Two years later, when Purple Rain was released, I had no place to live at twelve. My parents, married and divorced before I learned to talk, didn’t want me around. The only person who did want me, my granny, passed away when I was eight years old. I had been living on the streets with occasional showers and meals at various relative’s homes. That same bully of a cousin, being bored that day, told me that Purple Rain was playing at the new theater on Van Ness in San Francisco. It was made out of glass, completely see-through, and I had been dying for a reason to get in there! She offered to pay for me as long as I went with her. Her rare generosity was my ticket out of another boring day of walking the streets of San Francisco wondering where my next meal was coming from. I was as shocked as I was relieved to have something to do.

Although she paid for the first viewing, we stayed for every single viewing that day and night – until closing, and every day thereafter until Purple Rain was replaced. I know every word, every scene, every song better than I know my own life! Sad? Maybe. Life changing? Unequivocally! Not only did I have a place to go every day for a while, but I also learned what a bully really was. Yes, my cousin was one, but she had the problem, not me. She treated me the way Morris Day, Jerome, and the person who portrayed Prince’s father treated Prince. I learned that bullies are in pain too. I learned that I might have been unwanted, but that I could want and that I could love myself, that someday I could be loved too—even if I did bad things. I learned to appreciate the art that is music and poetry, something that I had latched onto very early in my life… anything to get me out of the ugly life I was born into.

A legend has died too early; to me it seems the way of geniuses. God has claimed another angel. It seemed idiotic to cry for a man I didn’t know, meeting him and Jerome only briefly after a concert in San Francisco in the late 80’s. Then I realized that my tears weren’t for a stranger.  Not really.

My tears were for a man who encouraged me through his music, his lyrics and his life. His music and artistry inspired me to move forward when I least wanted to go on with my crazy life. Like me, he was often misunderstood and judged, had a sad and intense upbringing., He also felt unwanted, unloved, and rejected, not just by his parents but by many who knew him—and others who definitely didn’t.

But still he put himself through the judgement, the misunderstandings, and the discriminations of others. Still he thrived and moved forward, not caring what others thought of him. And look where he went in life! He is a hero to me. He touched the lives of many, and his music touched even more. Prince’s music didn’t discriminate, sharing his brilliance with everyone from Sheila E. and Chaka Khan, to The Bangles, to Kenny Rogers, to Sinead O’Connor. His music was heard and appreciated worldwide.

Prince believed in himself, a self-taught, self-made man. And I left that theatre with hope. I left that theatre with a desire to live another day and not bow out in the coward’s way.

So I would like to thank Prince because without Purple Rain and without his music, I wouldn’t be here today.



My purple tears for

Prince Rogers Nelson

How do I Get My @$$ Back in Writing Mode?

Happy Thursday, fellow humans! For me it’s just another day I didn’t write. But something lured me to at least check out some of the writer’s I follow, and now I’m really glad I did. Thanks to Kristen Lamb’s post, Sending in the Flying Monkeys—Get Your @$$ to Work!, I’ve now got options! Because honestly I haven’t been able to write consistently, or even wanted to write, since we moved to a new state. Is this normal? Will I get my mojo back? Or is it simply me procrastinating because it’s the final book of the series and I feel overwhelmed with wrapping everything up with my characters?

These are the thoughts that have been plaguing me since I’ve gone through so many life changing events.

Let me back up a little bit. Roughly six months ago my husband and I began a monumental task, one that would hopefully change our lives for the better: we decided to move. I know what you’re thinking. “And? Everyone moves. So what?” I get that, I do.

But we really jumped off the deep end with this last minute decision. My husband received an opportunity in Nevada, and I know people who’ve never lived in California won’t understand why, but we were tired of Cali and wanted to try some place new. Did I mention that this decision was made in June?

So we began remodeling our home in the middle of frickin’ July! I mean what were we thinking? Everyone knows that your house should be on the market in spring/early summer right? Actually we were thinking there wasn’t much to do and we could finish in two weeks max and hit the end of the market. Since homes in our neighborhood were selling quickly and inventory was low, neither of us were too concerned. Our small remodel turned into a two-month project!

By the end of the house market season, my final edit was due on my second book. My husband had to go back and forth between California and Nevada for work. Plus we were going to Nevada every weekend looking for a new place. All of this while packing.

Is your head spinning yet? Mine was… and honestly still is.

Still I got my second book out in October, and our house listed as well. But the kind of work that goes into cleaning out a tri-level home with thirteen years of history is outrageous, seriously off the hook!

Again we didn’t know what we were getting into. We should have learned already: Whatever time you think it will take, times it by three. Because nothing ever goes as planned, not even pruning a frickin’ rose bush.

At least that’s been my experience.

Done and done. Then it was January. The house was still up for sell, and we’d moved into a two bed, two bath apartment and were getting used to the change. Did I mention we’re on the third floor? I’m still huffing and puffing from yesterday’s trip to the garbage. We were paying a rent and a mortgage, four utility bills, and really had no idea which way was up when it came to our driver’s licenses and car registrations. Should we register for Nevada or stay registered in California? I mean, we hadn’t sold the house yet so we were really only part-time Nevadans, right?

By the end of January, my husband and I caught the flu. He was out of work for a week with a daily temperature of 103. Blessed with asthma when I came into this world, I couldn’t breathe! Did I mention we are living on the third floor? With his fever and cough and my flu and bronchitis, we were completely screwed! Who was going to go get the cold medicine we were in such desperate need of? Neither of us could get past five steps without coughing up a lung!

Call me spoiled, but Safeway in California had delivery. Not so much here in Nevada. Could it get any worse? Why yes, yes indeed it could. We stayed sick for a month with a flu, then a cold, then bronchitis, and then—wait for it—walking pneumonia! Yay!

Can you see why I couldn’t even think about writing? My poor puppy, Bubba, who is a five-pound teacup poodle/Chihuahua mix also became ill and kept us up all night with diarrhea. The poor guy, it was the saddest thing I’ve ever seen! And as you get to know me, you will realize that I’ve really seen some horrible things in my life.

Then, on the first day that I was beginning to feel good enough to try and write, my laptop died. I mean gone, and I had never closed the book I’d been working on, Exalted, before I became ill. So it literally hadn’t been saved or put on my disc drive, nothing!

At that point I couldn’t do any writing until I could afford to get a laptop, which I couldn’t do until we got the house sold and closed.

It’s now the beginning of March, and it’s done and done.


Our house is sold, my body is beginning to recover, and I have a new laptop that I’m learning how to use. I’m trying really hard to get back into my story, but I just can’t seem to do it.

Is it the new atmosphere? All the stressful issues over the last six months? The fact that I didn’t continue writing anything daily? Or am I simply not meant to do this?

Can I get my groove back? Any ideas? I used to be a writing machine! Ideas just seemed to flow out of me all the time, and I couldn’t get them down quick enough. But now, it’s like getting air to my lungs with the bronchitis, almost impossible!

I need a revival.

I’ve Been Hacked! Just Kidding, Kind Of…

My daughter snuck a poem in and I didn’t know it!

She’s a beautiful queen.

Her hair has the most beautiful sheen, but she hides it under a wig, where it remains unseen.

In order to fit in she lived in disguise. No one told her that her dark skin was a blessing from the skies.

A queen, beautiful in many ways, but her intelligence made her interior harder. She learned that the opinions of sheep didn’t matter because plagiarism was their ladder.

She’s a beautiful queen and she’s collecting her gold, so that one day she could sit in her rightful throne.

When she finally got there, she was overthrown.

This time not by the sheep but by the the people she calls her own.

A Day In The Head Of My Daughter

My daughter is an amazing artist, and when I say artist, I mean-  of every type! She is an awe-inspiring photographer, a writer of music and poetry, and a creative artist of clothes and make-up. This young woman of only twenty-two years old is impressive, and I’m very proud of her. My daughter is a serious debater, and always has to have the last word, but in a good way. Not the obnoxious, know it all, type of way (smiles). She should be the one doing this blogging because she never runs out of things to talk and parlay about.

The other day she gave me some of her work, a couple poems that I felt were very thought provoking and she allowed me to share them. Whether you agree or disagree, I really hope you enjoy them as much as I did. She and I had a big ole debate afterwards, it was awesome!


There was no pearly gate. The only reason I knew I was in a cave was because I had just passed the entrance. The rock wall rose behind me with no ceiling in sight.

I knew this was it, this was what religion talked about, what man feared…I had just entered the gate to hell.

I felt the presence of the cave as if it was a living, breathing creature. The stench of rotten flesh overwhelmed me.

Then, there was the voice, it came from inside – and all around.


“Who are you?” I asked trying to keep my composure.

“You know,” the thing answered.

I did know…

“You are the devil,” I stuttered, quickly losing my composure. “Why me? I’ve lived as good as I could.”

The silence took over the space as my words died out. It seemed like an hour went by before a response finally came.

“What did you expect?”

“I don’t know…I never believed in any of this,” I uttered “Why am I here?”


I continued. “They say the greatest trick you ever pulled was convincing the world you don’t exist.”

“No. The greatest trick I ever pulled was convincing the world there is an alternative.”

“There is no God?” I shivered.

The cave trembled with words: “I AM GOD!”

Now, I have to explain why we had such an awesome debate. Not simply because it’s obviously thought provoking, but I’m a Christian and she is a Buddhist. We respect each other’s views, and because of that we can have some really amazing debates and smile all the way through. Where others can become easily offended. Although I read somewhere when I blog that I’m not supposed to speak on religion and politics, this is my daughter’s unedited and in my eyes, beautiful piece of work, and I hope you guys like it…or not. Feel free to let me know your thoughts on it. Remember it is an unedited first draft.

I was going to do both of her poems today, but I think I will save the other short horror poem for next week. Maybe she will give me a couple more by then, and maybe you guys will have some constructive feedback for her.

Have a great day!!

Book Cover For Essence!

I’m excited to say that I just received my new book cover for Essence, part two of Jael’s Birthright, and I wanted to share it with you. I hope you like it! Although this book is taking longer to finish than I had expected, I’m close to an ending, and then it’s off to my editor.

As a published writer ( I don’t feel I’ve earned the right to call myself an author as of yet), I have a new-found respect for those who write serial stories. So much goes into remembering the previous content of your book that it can become simply overwhelming! Plotting, scheming, creating conflicts, not a problem. Remembering who needs what questions answered, what’s already been solved and what has yet to be completed – yeah, a whole new ball game when creating serial stories. People like Tina Folsom and Evangeline Anderson who are somewhere in the teens of their series and sometimes have to go back to the second book to get some of their information on book fourteen, well, my hats off to them. They are my hero’s.

Emergence was my baby. A long time in the making (about two years) and I’m very proud of it.  But Essence went to a place I least expected it to go and I hope you guys enjoy the change of pace. I will also be giving you guys a few teasers in the following couple of weeks, I hope you will come back and see it.

Without further delay, here is the cover for Essence, I hope you like it!


Coming soon!

What to say when you’re a serial talker?

What do you say when you’re a serial talker but have never blogged before? Especially when you know that probably no one will ever see this anyway? My husband says he envies me because I make friends so quickly, talking to everyone from inside a supermarket, to a person stuck in traffic beside us in the car.

But when it comes to this, blogging, I feel completely out of my depths here!

One time my husband and I went to spend a week in Tahoe at a beautiful three bedroom cabin with a loft and private entry to the lake. During our stay I decided to give him a break from my consistent chatter by chartering a fishing boat for him, I thought spending the day doing his favorite things with a bunch of dudes would really help him relax, and he deserved it! When I surprised him with this, his smile faded when he found out I was not going with him, this surprised me. He asked why I wasn’t going with him and I explained I thought I would stay at the cabin and read giving my mouth and his ears a rest.

To my surprise, he asked me to go with him! I asked him, “Don’t you want some quiet time alone with the guys?” and he replied, “Are you kidding me? You are the life of the party. Guys who don’t know each other won’t talk, but with you there to break the ice and show that beautiful smile and infectious laughter, we will all be comfortable with each other in no time. Nope, I’m not going without you.”

Needless to say, he earned some serious bedroom points that week😉 and he was right, I had everyone smiling and talking in no time…Not to toot my own horn or anything, but I just enjoy laughing and talking.

How do I blog? How do I get out there and talk to people via social media? I have never felt so shy and unsure of myself until now. Well, hopefully I will find the answer, until then have an awesome day!