Posted in #BOAW2017 #GirlBoner Edition, Blogfest Entries, Blogfest Entries, Life Writing, My Poetry, Parenting, Sexuality and Erotica, Writing in Freedom, Writing Samples

Nevertheless, We Persist: #BOAW2017 The #GirlBoner Edition!

Nevertheless, We Persist

She was warned.

She was given an explanation.

Nevertheless, she persisted.”

One woman dared to stand up,

revealing her sacred spaces,

her divine strength

and defied the rules

and the man

who tried to silence her.

“She was warned.

She was given an explanation.

Nevertheless, she persisted.”

Each woman has

her journey to make

Her stand to take

Her words to speak

Her love to share

In each of us,

a sacred space

belonging to us,

and to us alone.

She was warned.

She was given an explanation.

Nevertheless, she persisted.”

My own sacred inner space

pinging and zinging with truth

when I first heard those words,

spoken by a man,

from his patriarchal privilege,

as decree and judgment

upon a woman who dared

to call out a man,

echoing another woman

who had once done the same.

As women, we are often warned.

We’re given explanations.

We’re told, from the time we’re tiny girls,

that we are to follow the rules,

not step beyond the bounds

society made to envelop us

our lives,

our sacred selves,

our voices,

our bodies…

And the power of

Our sexuality.

Nevertheless, we persist.

Innumerable warnings,

from blatant to subtle,

told me I must

play “second fiddle” to men.

I made a good show

The “dutiful daughter”

But inside,

I was subversive,


a sexual being,

just waiting to come

out and show myself.

I was warned.

I was given an explanation-

“Why buy the milk

When you can have the cow

For free?”

Nevertheless, I persisted

in believing

that I wasn’t a cow

That I had more to offer

As a wife

than my virginity.

I persisted,

Despite explanations

And warnings

Persisted, and insisted

that I had the right

to self-determination.

I was warned

I was given explanations

from the time I was a tiny girl,

to follow the rules,

not step beyond the bounds

made to envelop me

my life,

my sacred self,

my voice,

my body…

And the power of

My sexuality.

I was warned.

Nevertheless I persisted

in becoming

More than labels –





I persisted until

I became wholly myself

So that I could look at my own

tiny girl of a daughter

and see the seeds of

a woman freed

From the warnings

and the explanations

A freedom that persists

And insists that

she simply

always be


This post is part of the Beauty of a Woman BlogFest VI – #GirlBoner Edition! To read more entries, and potentially win a fun prize, visit the fest page on August’s McLaughlin’s site between today and 11pm PST March 11th.

Posted in Challenges and Contests, Flash Fiction Pieces, Marketing my Writing, My Poetry, Story a Day May Challenge, Writers' Resources, Writing in Freedom, Writing Samples

Air #StaD Kifo Project for May 17

Welcome, friends! Come in, and let me tell you a Story A Day, all May long…

In June and July, I’ll be drafting two new Kifo Island novels. I know something about 5 of the 6 point of view characters, and I’ve got a sketchy idea of the plots – but I need to learn more about these people and their stories.

So, in May, I explore. Every day, I’ll follow the prompts in A Month of Writing Prompts 2016. I’ll play while moving through my planning efforts. Some of these stories may become part of the eventual novels, but my goal is to invite these characters to show me who they are and what they want – and how their lives fit together to make a novel.

I’ve been writing my story each day, but I slipped behind in my posting. I’m hoping to catch up by the end of the day, and finish the month out on time.

I continue with May 16, following the daily prompt, a story Inspired by Real Events 

Week Three is our Rescue Week  – some easier prompts that offset the challenges behind and still ahead.

This story is based on a local happening from a few weeks ago. A man at the trailer park where my brother and his family live was playing his music too loudly, and, when the manager went to speak to him, a fight resulted. The manager strangled the man, who died a day or two later. I’ve been disturbed ever since that people kill people, sometimes, for reasons that are trivial, and certainly not worth a life.

I translated this event into a story poem for my character Ubunta, and an attack on her for singing.

Warning: This story is rated PG-13 for life-threatening violence.



Ubunta struggled.

Big hands choked off her air.

Big body pressed her down.

She needed to breathe.

She could still hear music.

She felt its echoes.

Was this how she was going to die?


All I was doing was singing.”

There was no air to say it.

No voice.

No way free.

Struggling wasn’t working.

Heart pounded mad discordant beat.

Lungs shrieked, “Inhale! Inflate!”

She couldn’t.

Couldn’t breathe.

Couldn’t get free.

Couldn’t live without air.

Even a little.


Posted in Just for Fun!, Life Writing, Love Is In Da Blog

Moving On for Song Lyric Sunday and #LoIsInDaBl Day 28

Why, hello once again! Are you ready to play with music? I am! Today’s Love Is In Da Blog  prompt is to share a song about a goodbye. So, in conjunction with Song Lyric Sunday, let’s watch a departure…Lyrics from Paul Simon’s Official Website. 

She Moves On


I feel good
It’s a fine day
The way the sun hits off the runway
A cloud shifts
The plane lifts
She moves on

But feel the bite
Whenever you believe that
You’ll be lost and love will find you
When the road bends
And the song ends
She moves on

I know the reason
I feel so blessed
My heart still splashes
Inside my chest, but she
She is like a top
She cannot stop
She moves on

A sympathetic stranger
Lights a candle in the middle of the night
Her voice cracks
She jumps back
But she moves on, moves on

She says “Ooh, my storybook lover
You have underestimated my power
As you shortly will discover”

Then I fall to my knees
Shake a rattle at the skies
And I’m afraid that I’ll be taken
Abandoned, forsaken
In her cold coffee eyes

She can’t sleep now
The moon is red
She fights a fever
She burns in bed
She needs to talk so
We take a walk
Down in the maroon light

She says “Maybe these emotions are
As near to love as love will ever be”
So I agree
Then the moon breaks
She takes the corner, that’s all she takes
She moves on

She says “Ooh my storybook lover
You have underestimated my power
As you shortly will discover”

Then I fall to my knees
I grow weak, I go slack
As if she’d captured the breath of my
Voice in a bottle
And I can’t catch it back

But I feel good
It’s a fine day
The way the sun hits off the runway
A cloud shifts
The plane lifts
She moves

Words and Music by Paul Simon


This song is from the album “The Rhythm of the Saints”, and I experienced it performed live (oh! those drums!) during the Born at the Right Time Tour. I took my new sister-in-law to that concert; she had given birth to my nephew, now in his mid-twenties, only a few months before.

Here are the “rules”…

  • Post the lyrics to a favorite song or a new song you want to share
  • I’ve started including who wrote the song. (I think it’s a good idea to give credit where credit is due)
  • Make sure you also credit the singer/band and provide a link to where you found the lyrics
  • Link to the YouTube video, or pull it into your post so others can listen to the song
  • Ping back to this post or my own Song Lyric Sunday post
  • Read at least one other person’s blog so we can all share new and fantastic music and create amazing new blogging friends in the process.

Well, that’s my song for this week. I’m a huge fan of the imagery; it suits my personal love of word pictures.  Come on back next week for more musical, lyrical fun!

Posted in Blogfest Entries, Enterprise fan fiction, Flash Fiction Pieces, Just for Fun!, Just Jot it January, Life Writing, Love Is In Da Blog, Novel Excerpts, Stream of Consciousness Saturday, Writing in Freedom

“Tired of Ghosts”: #SoCS, #JusJoJan Day 29, and #LoIsInDaBl


This post is part of Linda G.Hill’s Stream of Consciousness Saturday meme -an unedited stream of consciousness piece that ties into the weekly prompt: the word ‘tire’. It’s also a make-up post for Just Jot It January Day 20. The prompt was “ghost”, supplied by Barbara at teleportingweena.Come join in – there’s just a few simple rules. Check out the #SoCS hashtag, or Get more SoCS right here!

One more bit: Standard Disclaimer applies. I make no claims to own these characters. I certainly expect no monetary profit from playing with them. But, when a certain pointy-eared lady insists I tell her stories, I listen. After all, I’ve seen her fight. =)

“I’m So Damned Tired of Ghosts”

“I’m so damned tired of ghosts!”

She sat bolt upright, her sightless eyes wide and staring. She was shaking hard, but her body was rigid, her voice so high and brittle it was on the edge of shattering.

Trip went to her, but he didn’t touch her right away. Even if she couldn’t see him, and wasn’t aware, she was strong, and she didn’t need to see to know where he was. Her sense of smell was undamaged, after all.

“I’m right here, pepperpot.” He kept his voice low, a whisper so soft he almost couldn’t hear it.

But she did.

“Make the ghosts go away, Trip. Make them go – make them go -” Her pleas were choked off by the first sob. It wasn’t a soundless Vulcan sob. No, this one was raw and beyond her control.

Like the ghosts in her mind, they came from him. She couldn’t feel the bond consciously, but it kept coming back to her in odd echoes and images. Like the ghosts – his sister Lizzie, her mom, those four babies, the crewmates lost along the way.

“Ghosts aren’t logical,” she sobbed out, and reached to him.

“Oh, pepperpot. I know they aren’t. I’m so sorry -”

But she wasn’t awake, not yet, or not really. Still, the stiffness went out of her, and she let Trip gather her into his arms, settle her head against his chest, where she could hear his heartbeat.

T’Pol drifted into a more peaceful sleep, and Trip held her, rocking softly, and hoped he wouldn’t give her any more ghosts.


And, as if all that above isn’t enough for one blog, it’s also my entry for today’s Love Is In Da Blog. This week’s theme is spouses, significant others, and partners.

Loving someone enough to commit my life to him isn’t easy in every moment, and, today, I share this poem, originally written for OctPoWriMo. So, for today, an acknowledgment of that simple reality. As a bonus, it includes the word ‘tire’, although that’s coincidental, in this case.

Love’s Hard Place



I was caught

in a whirlpool.

The water crushed me

Tight against a rock wall

Wet sharp travertine

Deadly turquoise


Too strong




for release

for my freedom

from pressing waters

abrading hard place

water pressure

far too much




too tired

fading will

aching muscles

suction subsuming

greedy waters swirl

hungry turquoise




grips me

still tighter

getting weaker

yanking at my legs

which twitch and tremble

almost ready to

give in give up





Two arms

That belong

to the man who

will propose to me

in a little while

but now pulls me free

holds me so close

My safety

And I




that strong man

bear his children

two alive one not

take him within me

and bear the weight






know this was

the sometimes price

of that little word yes

I said so long ago

when he saved me

from the rock

and hard




he would be

my own whirlpool

of love and anger

desire injustice

Abraded love




this same

man who pulled

me free could so

easily bind me

into his worries

his furies

his own




I was caught

In a whirlpool

love constricts me

Tight against a rock wall

Turquoise travertine

Nature and

love’s hard


Posted in Blogfest Entries, Enterprise fan fiction, Just for Fun!, Just Jot it January, Life Writing, My Poetry

The Sands of Sacrifice: #JusJoJan Day 13

Welcome to Day Twelve of Just Jot it January, where, for a month – well, we jot. Whatever. However. Wherever. Whyever. It’s graciously hosted by Linda G.Hill

Today’s prompt, “sacrifice comes to us courtesy of ME – Who Am I?

No big explanation today – just that, as always, I don’t own them; it’s more like they own me. No money cheapens this love.





on these hot

ancestral sands

Where once I knelt

As a child, with a child

Now I’m a woman and he a

man, but not the man I desire.

“Well, what do you want to do?”

Such a simple query for his people

“That is irrelevant.” I spoke my truth.

He couldn’t believe, wouldn’t accept.

“It’s very relevant.” And his truth

Somehow also became mine

I left duty behind me to

Embrace forbidden



I stand


Wearing her

father’s robes

As she sacrifices

herself on the sands

For what she believes

Is her fault, her duty

I should stop her.

Save her.


“Marry him?”

Shock uncushioned

No false control or decorum

No ritual, custom, law, necessity

His people say, “Love conquers all.”

And I have seen for myself that they

Believe it. He believes love must be

At the root of all things, all joinings

But his love is an alien force here

Kneeling on home-sands

I hold his love within

A small comfort

As I accept

My duty.



I stand


As she’s breaking

I can feel wide fault lines

Shaking her bedrock strength.

Only I know the price she pays

That it’s her penance her prison

A year? Ten? A hundred?

A lifetime surrendered

For her mother’s



For more context, insight, feels, laughter, and tears, watch “Home”, here, and/or read my original IDIC Romance stories, “Promises and Choices”  and “Views of A Wedding”.

That’s it for me…find more jottings right here!

Posted in Blogfest Entries, Just for Fun!, Just Jot it January, Life Writing, Marketing my Writing, My Poetry, Parenting, Unschooling

Scattered and Cloudy: JusJoJan Day 6

Welcome to Day Six of Just Jot it January, where, for a month – well, we jot. Whatever. However. Wherever. Whyever. It’s graciously hosted by Linda G.Hill.

Today’s prompt, “Clouds”, comes to us from Geoff Le Pard at TanGental, who’d love a visit! Pop on over and say hi, if you’re so inclined.


When I told my daughter that today’s word was “cloud’, she said, “What are you going to write about him?”

To her, this is what -or rather whom – Cloud means.

I, on the other hand, thought of the clouds she asked me to cut out of paper last week, so that she could write inspirational phrases on them, and hang them, along with moons and hearts, from her ceiling. Now she has a swinging array of thread-secured pretties.

OK, perhaps it’s just coincidental, but I’m listening to “Welcome to Night Vale”, and a fictitious and unknown Emily Bronte novel was just listed – The Flippancy of Clouds. Reminds me of The Importance of Being Earnest.

Sunset at the South Jetty, Florence, Oregon, circa 2000.


I also thought of pictures I’ve taken of clouds, and of the Simon and Garfunkel song, “Cloudy”, and this poem that I wrote on October 1, 2015, for OctPoWriMo Day One:

October clouds over the New York State Museum, Albany, NY, circa 2014.

Full Moon Clouds

We step out the door,

My girl and I

for our nightly walk.

Full moon night

After an eclipse

And a skyful of clouds.

The silver moon

Glows like a nightlight

Seen behind frosted glass.

We walk and talk

My girl and I

Illuminating spirits.

We sit in the front yard.

In our camp chairs

And watch the clouds.

“They look like snow

When the wind’s blown it

Into little hills and valleys.”

“Or the surface of a brain

If you flattened it out

And it was white, not grey.”

It’s about more than clouds

This time that we share

More than full moons and walks.

It’s about connection

Little moments holding hands

And sharing secrets.

She’s growing up fast

This girl of eleven

Will soon be a woman.

She’ll live her life grown

On her own terms

With clouds we don’t share.

Our walks will be memories

These hand in hand times

Sharing secrets beneath cloud blankets.

What we’re weaving tonight

While clouds roll above

Is the fabric of her future self.

Lone Star Geyser with rainbow, near Old Faithful, Yellowstone National Park, circa 1998-9?

Well, these thoughts are scattered, cloudy…like a song, or pictures, or a dusky-white wild stallion, or pages culled from last year’s dictionary, snipped and shaped and hung from the ceiling of an girl nearly eleven and a half years old…

And that’s all the cloudiness my nocturnal and wearily cloudy mind has to say about that…find more jottings here!

Posted in Enterprise fan fiction, Flash Fiction Pieces, Just for Fun!, My Poetry, Novel Excerpts, Sexuality and Erotica, Writing in Freedom

Unguarded: The IDIC Romance Advent Calendar

Advent header new

Merry Christmas, everyone! I hope it was filled with love, laughter, sharing, and so much joy that it flows out from you and embraces others.

To help with that, I’ve created a special Advent calendar. It’s non-denominational and didn’t stop on December 25. Instead it goes on giving for the rest of the month. It also espouses the concept of IDIC – Infinite Diversity in Infinite Combinations. 

Each day, you can open a new flash fan fiction story. These are freewritings – rough and imperfect; I only correct for spelling and grammar. Read one, read some, read them all – suit yourself!

At the end of today’s story, you’ll find a holiday bonus – two more stanzas of The Night Before Christmas, courtesy of Fallon Brown and Erin Zarro, our resident supernovae of comments and encouragement – these ladies love TnT with a fervor I find – well, highly logical and most agreeable.

Enterprise Advent 26

OK, briefing time:

  • Spoiler zone ahead! Don’t read these posts if you don’t want series spoilers, or even spoilers for other parts of The IDIC Romance, because things will be revealed, and I don’t like spoiling…I’d much rather delight.

  • The base art for the calendar elements of this post was created by Annalise S. Burton, and is used with permission and compensation.

  • I don’t own Trip, T’Pol, or the franchise that conceived them. These stories are offered as a gift, without expectation for any compensation. Of course, comments, rhapsodizing ramblings, and honest feedback of all kinds are always welcome!

  • This story is rated solidly R for sexual content. You’ve been duly warned!

And now, to the calendar…..we lift the tab… and find…a lot more about what Vulcan bonding can be…but can Trip handle the truth?

Advent Unguarded

They were falling and flying, carried away on the waves of pleasure and ecstasy, the feeling – every time they made love now, it was stronger….Trip could feel her, feel what she felt, and it was so intense that the borders of self were uncertain, like an unstable warp field or a variable equation…

But this was different. As they crested, crashing into each other’s bodies, frantic with orgasm, T’Pol opened –

Wide –

All the way – her whole self, her soul, bared, quivering, wanting –

Wanting -?

“Never and always touching and touched…..let us be one….” She didn’t speak out loud, and the thought wasn’t in words. But he knew –

She held nothing back, and she wanted – needed – him.

All of him.

But he was human, chaotic, emotional – he could hurt her in ways he’d never suspected.

If he opened to her, gave her everything, joined with her this way, she’d know how messed up and imperfect he was. She’d never be able to pretend –

Would she still want him?

Did he want this?

She was his wife – but this was so much more than that, more than being bonded –

This was everything – and it was unnatural…

She trembled and needed – open, vulnerable – and Trip pulled back, hid from what she offered, as though he didn’t know what it was.

In the quiet of their room and the desert that embraced them, T’Pol began to cry.

Will Trip keep hiding?

Why is T’Pol crying?

Is this as far as they can go?

What’s next?

Drop me a comment, and I’ll add a paragraph. The more comments, the more paragraphs I add. So go ahead – give me something to keep me busy!

And now, as promised, two more stanzas from The Night Before Christmas

For context, after some hijinks involving stuffing socks that aren’t as innuendo-laden as they might sound, not-so-secret Santa Trip has come back to his quarters to find mistletoe and an unwrapped T’Pol awaiting him.

For a second he just stared,

“How’d you know to do this?”

But she only tipped her head.

“I believe you owe me a kiss.”

Trip grinned at her as she stood there.

“You know, I think you’re right

.But then, there isn’t any hurry – 

Pepperpot, we’ve got all night!”

Need more IDIC Romance Advent stories?