I had the wonderful experience of Laura Rike reviewing my blog this week. As a result, I am in the act of cleanup and reorganization. Feel free to comment below with any changes/additions you would love to see here! It is interesting to me that cleanup requires a purging of cobwebs in my mind. Apparently I have several musty ideas for The Honeyed Quill tangled in sticky strings. They have been patiently awaiting rediscovery. Now is their time! Apparently, I have entered my season of high creativity a month early.
I am coming through an intensely anxious period. In 2014, I had multiple surgeries culminating in a partial hysterectomy. I got to keep my ovary, but my uterus hadn’t been a team player for quite awhile. It had to go. The result was extreme hormonal confusion that sent me back to dark teen-ages. I was catapulted back into ADD and relived all my traumatic triggers, sometimes daily. During that time, an individual who had harmed me found me on Facebook and tried to reconnect. Um, no. I blocked that fool.
My mother had a long-term boyfriend when I was 10 years old. She was going to marry him and, wow, he was like a father to me. My dad had exited my life at the age of five. He was a serial cheater; a man that loved to have women at every port whilst his wife was back at home barefoot and pregnant. He had come into my life again a year beforehand, willing to mend broken ties. His dad had just died and when Mum and Dad were at the funeral she
Do you know what synesthesia is? It’s when your experiences feed to the wrong senses, such as color to taste or smell to touch. I’m a synesthete. I’ve been told that the positive ways I experience the world are similar to what people search for when they get high. I imagine the negative ways must resemble a bad trip. Usually I don’t share this aspect of myself on the page, but since it affects my writing (and my everyday), I thought I’d try being open and see what happens. It’s