A child, 14, sits in his room. Quarantine has taken a toll, stealing away the ability to socialize with friends and the opportunity to learn at in-person schools. Life has begun to become boring, mundane, borderline useless. Being so young when COVID hits is a challenge. What are you meant to do? There wasn't much freedom to speak of before, and now it's all gone. One of the only things you can do at the moment, such an isolated time, is go online. He makes many online friends during quarantine that help sustain his wellbeing. Posting drawings on social media to show friends and mutuals replaces socializing in real life. The thing that's most different is that now, our hero enjoys learning. Research on Google becomes an outlet for him. He discovers a love for history this way, looking up facts about cowboys and about Victorian princes. He learns many interesting things and, in researching the late 1700s, discovers his new favorite thing; something that nobody in their right mind would enjoy. Tuberculosis. Everything about the pulmonary disease is extremely interesting to him. It begins with a fascination in hemoptysis, coughing up blood, then snowballs. Watching documentaries, reading informational books online, discovering more and more articles on the subject, the ancient disease becomes his lifeblood. He no longer feels so bored with life. He discovers that several fictional books about Tuberculosis exist, both contemporary and vintage, ones which tell stories about interesting characters in and out of sanatoriums. It inspires him to read again for the first time in three years. He has again found something worth spending time on. Learning about Tuberculosis becomes an unlikely source of happiness, one that will last for years to come. He finds a lot of enjoyment in researching the infectious disease, talking about it, watching videos that mention it. He has finally begun to discover himself.
“Di papa w!” my mother yelled dismissively at me in Haitian Creole, “Tell your father!” “Leave me alone!” I yelled. I ran into my room, slamming the door with such force that it made the room quiver. I stomped around until I finally collapsed into bed. I cried. I cried so much that I would cry myself to sleep. I was always aware of what was happening around me. I had to be; it wasn't obvious growing up that my parents didn't love each other. Although they never got into verbal arguments, the animosity was there. When they communicated, which was rare, it would be brief and followed by a petty comment behind the other's back. One of the things that would cause tension was transportation. I was always unsure who would bring me to and from school—would it be my mom, siblings, cousin, or a family friend? I never thought that it'd be my dad, as Mom made it clear that he “was busy playing dominoes with his friends” and that she would never ask him to pick me up. It was something I'd always have to do alone: be the messenger between two warring sides and I would grow up to mimic their behavior. Some of the ways they dealt with their issues with each other rubbed off on me, as I would often avoid conflict, ignoring the feelings building up within me until I would finally implode in a fit of rage and tears I couldn't explain. At school, this manifested in intense anxiety and reclusiveness, as I kept to myself and didn't share any parts of my home life with anyone. I can now say that I was heartbroken over the fact that my parents weren't getting along. I was confused as to why my parents, who were unmarried and clearly not in love, were still living together. I'd think to myself “What's keeping them here together?” and my subconscious answered back, “Me.” I began to blame myself for their hostility towards each other. I came to realize that I needed stability and affection, but I knew at that moment I wouldn't get those from my parents, so I looked towards a hobby that would help. Quilting became a way to create something meaningful and practical. This expensive hobby was made possible by a $500 grant that I earned and the rewards are invaluable. Quilting taught me how to adapt. For example, I used an old bed sheet to create the backing for my quilt, in doing so I also lessened the mental clutter I was struggling with. With every thread that connected and endured, it became something deeper than just sewing. As I would work on quilts, all of the emotions I felt overwhelmed by could be stitched into art I controlled. Quilting also became a medium to express my Haitian roots as well as be able to provide a little warmth to someone in need. As I made more quilts, my confidence began to build. At school, I no longer felt like a recluse who would walk around, hanging her head in despair. I would now hold my head up high with pride. At home, it has brought me closer to my mother, who's offered to help me sew. Now I hear “Moutre papa w” when I complete a quilt, and the tension in my home is eased knowing that she's saying “Show your father.”
If Father's Day hits you anything like Mother's Day hits me, I would imagine your thoughts are casting images of your unmet dreams and countless regrets of the parent you tell yourself you ‘should have' been. It's so absolutely hard not to fall prey to the father of lies on days that cast through our defenses. For now, and until your last breath you can count on your family in Christ's PRAY to be 1000X's greater than Satan's prey of lies. I sit in church as I write this letter to you, my brothers in Christ, hearing …. ‘This is my story, this is my song…perfect submission…filled with His goodness, lost in His love' being sung by a multitude of people with their souls longing to receive the validation of being relevant on this Earth. Your life, brother, is unlike any book read. Why?-- Because your story book is enteral—it lives on forever. This may seem odd or overwhelming. I get that you may be thinking ‘Are you about to get weird?' but as Frankie Mazzapica says, “No, I'm about to get spiritual”. The world of heartache that consumes a father's heart right this very moment is merely the close AND start to a chapter of your story. Your story is your testimony and testimonies replace the chaotic spiraling those falling prey to lies with JOY by casting light on TRUTH that reveals hopes, dreams, blessings, and opens hardened hearts (Ezekiel 36:26-27). ‘Test' is in the word testimony. God's in this with you, brother. He's calling upon you because HE longs for YOU because on this day, your true Father wants nothing more than you to experience His love and for that experience to go past a feeling in your heart and into a transformation of your self-image/worldview. Satan has been attacking you on all fronts. He doesn't attack weak men. He doesn't attack men unless God created you to be a warrior, intended to conquer lies and capture hearts during your time THIS SIDE OF ETERNITY. Brother, your purpose, your gifts, and yes even your failures are crucial to life right here, right now! I implore you to open your heart to the possibilities God has waiting for you with or without the status of your occupation. The sword you weld is far more powerful than anything ‘the job' brings. So many men and women like you NEED YOU to speak into the lies Satan has been using to rip their lives apart. One thing I KNOW is that He is desperate for joining his son's (YOUR) life. Right now, today, and all the days thereafter. Isaiah 49:16 “I have tattooed your name on the palms of my hands; your walls are ever before me.” Grasping onto things like addiction, trauma, resentment is like living on the dirty side of a hurricane longing to reach the eye of the storm for a quick reprieve only to be spit right back out on the dirty side. It's a fleeting moment similar to striving to 'feel happy'. Recovery (wellness) is living on the edge of the clean side-- knowing with one slip of a choice you risk being pulled right around to the dirty side again. While I can't promise the journey to Recovery (wellness) will come with lasting feelings of happiness it will offer the opportunity to experience living in a state of Joy. This path is exhilarating and taunting all at once. It's an adventure far more rewarding than the false sense of security of reaching the eye of the storm or of watching life chaotically spiral outside our fingertips while. When I make the decision to put my pain to purpose it usually finds me staring at the crossroads of choosing between one good choice and one God choice. Life is hard, brother, and walking out those hard times is meant to be done WITH your circle of support. The center of your circle is you and the Father. I'm so thankful when our heavenly Father appears to us through the life of my brothers. Men have an especially hard job as husbands and fathers and this sister in Christ appreciates your efforts to help the world see The Father through you.
Rose was born in a frozen land. She knew nothing but winter. To protect her from the cold, her body began covering itself with ice. It kept the small bits of warmth inside, and didn't let them out. Ice covered her skin in layers. Rose couldn't sense what she touched. It felt like her body belonged to someone else, someone cold and numb. Rose traveled through miles of icy lands, reaching out to things that looked warm. Flowers, birds, shiny stones. Rose was putting them into her frozen palms to see if it would warm them up. Bright colors, loud sounds, tasty foods looked warm, but didn't feel like it. Rose walked and walked, far ahead. Dark nights started to intertwine with days. She was in a new land. The snow drifts roze up to the sky and turned into clouds, soft like cotton blankets. The air was warm, yet something inside of Rose stayed cold. She couldn't walk anymore. Her legs collapsed. She layed, eyes closed. Under the eyelids was frosty darkness, deep like the polar night. Rose reached out trying to catch its endlessness in her palms. She begged to be rescued, to be warm. To find out what warmth even feels like. Then she sensed something. Rose opened her eyes. The Sun was looking at her. It was the first time she saw it. As if all the light of the world gathered in one place. Each of the rays embraced Rose. She felt the ice on her skin melting. She cried for the first time in her life. Rose could move again, even dance, like the butterfly that once visited her dreams. She could. But she didn't want to. Even when layers of ice melted, something inside of her stayed cold. As if some part of the winter still lived in her. Rose glanced up, through her tears and said: "Thank you, Sun. I wanted to feel warm and safe. I thought that when I would, all of the dark memories would melt away. I would forget and never feel cold again. But now, I want to keep them, even the painful ones. Maybe, one day I will become my own sun. And I will warm them up. I will shine on this part of me, no one else can reach, and give it love". Rose smiled. From the puddles of melted ices her reflection looked up at her. She had a crown of shiny beams around her head. *** P.S. First time posting. I'm overwhelmed and excited at the same time. Please, share your thoughts about the story! I'm ready for the feedback. And scared of it at the same time ;)
A sudden global pandemic spirals out of control and then leads to lockdowns across major cities. What does that leave someone with? Nothing but a trail of disruption. For me the situation was a cocktail of activities and opportunities I had never dreamed about either doing or not doing. So here I was, this Nigerian lady of twenty-three trying to figure out my ‘new' life. Starting a relationship was never, ever part of my considerations. So how then did it eventually happen? Educational institutions had gone on break, most businesses and establishments asked to closed down or restrict opening hours and everyone ordered to stay indoors as much as possible to contain the spreading viral disease called COVID-19. But alone at home with little of my life the same as it was before the crisis, my world had transformed into something strange. I was at home doing nothing much except reading my books, catching up with old friends in town through social media and helping around with a little renovation with my siblings. Finding a traditional job that I could engage myself with around my neighborhood and beyond proved futile. It simply was a disaster. No one was hiring anyone new for a job. However, four months into my university break, I found something to do at home that I should say was fascinating: online freelance work. How I got into such a job sometimes makes me wonder but it all started with a friend of mine back from secondary school called Felix. He had sent me a Facebook message asking if I could help him out with some writing gigs. After my initial negative reply which was based on my little experience with creative writing, I agreed to help him. Back in secondary school, Felix was the most captivating of all the boys in my class and I considered him the most brilliant. Once in a while he would top the class but his periodic genius mind wasn't what started our friendship back then. Rather, it was his love for writing and drawing that got my attention. Some probing and demanding on my part made him finally take me as his apprentice. Weeks later, just as I was making some progress with these creative skills, I decided to quit. My love interest in art had gone and in its stead a close friendship had formed between me and Felix. I didn't feel I had it in me to be an artist of any sort or so I thought. Still I occasionally practiced when I needed a break from some stressful things. My first client was a lady, Felix's friend. She requested for a drawing of her boyfriend ahead of his birthday coming up in two weeks. A simple but unique piece of art was my first product in this new world of commerce and it was highly appreciated by many. I did many more interesting gigs after that but the most heartwarming was a love letter I wrote for a girl whose father had survived COVID-19. She cried after reading it stating it was the most love filled message she had read in a long time. Felix had told me about it in the happiest voice and for once in a long while I was moved by that knowledge. Many times I had to refer to the internet for tips on how to go about some projects. And like a mentor that he was, Felix was there to guide me through it all. He shared tips, experience, techniques with me that would help bring better results than the last projects. A year later since I started this new journey I found myself not so enthusiastic about it. It's like I had lost my love and interest for this phase and experience of my life that I felt so withdrawn. True, it was very demanding especially on my creative abilities but I sadly realized I was not in my most unique and comfortable zone. And so like years before, I decided to quit. I sent Felix a message in June, 2021, thanking him for everything: the teaching, support, advice and of course friendship. I told him in the nicest way that I wasn't ready to continue down this road of entrepreneurship, As a second-year nursing student my future career still obsessed me and I did not want to let that go. I did make a request to him that I wanted to be his official business partner in the art industry in future. More of a inactive one I reasoned. Sadly, he did not give a reply when I expected. I was hurt. I imagined he also had the same feeling of disappointment despite the confidence and encouragement he had given me and I still let him down. Some weeks later he responded. “I would gladly have you as my official business partner. Would you please accept my proposal to be my girlfriend?” he wrote back to me. Shock and surprise hit me as I digested the meaning of the message. I had a number of male friends but I had never dated or had a boyfriend before. This really was a first for me. I sent him an affirmative reply teasingly asking if he has had a girlfriend before. He said yes: me, in those days when we were in secondary school. And so that's how my love journey began with a guy called Felix. And till now, we are still going on strong in our relationship.
A sudden global pandemic spirals out of control and then leads to lockdowns across major cities. What does that leave someone with? Nothing but a trail of disruption. For me the situation was a cocktail of activities and opportunities I had never dreamed about either doing or not doing. So here I was, this Nigerian lady of twenty-three trying to figure out my ‘new' life. Starting a relationship was never, ever part of my considerations. So how then did it eventually happen? Educational institutions had gone on break, most businesses and establishments asked to closed down or restrict opening hours and everyone ordered to stay indoors as much as possible to contain the spreading viral disease called COVID-19. But alone at home with little of my life the same as it was before the crisis, my world had transformed into something strange. I was at home doing nothing much except reading my books, catching up with old friends in town through social media and helping around with a little renovation with my siblings. Finding a traditional job that I could engage myself with around my neighborhood and beyond proved futile. It simply was a disaster. No one was hiring anyone new for a job. However, four months into my university break, I found something to do at home that I should say was fascinating: online freelance work. How I got into such a job sometimes makes me wonder but it all started with a friend of mine back from secondary school called Felix. He had sent me a Facebook message asking if I could help him out with some writing gigs. After my initial negative reply which was based on my little experience with creative writing, I agreed to help him. Back in secondary school, Felix was the most captivating of all the boys in my class and I considered him the most brilliant. Once in a while he would top the class but his periodic genius mind wasn't what started our friendship back then. Rather, it was his love for writing and drawing that got my attention. Some probing and demanding on my part made him finally take me as his apprentice. Weeks later, just as I was making some progress with these creative skills, I decided to quit. My love interest in art had gone and in its stead a close friendship had formed between me and Felix. I didn't feel I had it in me to be an artist of any sort or so I thought. Still I occasionally practiced when I needed a break from some stressful things. My first client was a lady, Felix's friend. She requested for a drawing of her boyfriend ahead of his birthday coming up in two weeks. A simple but unique piece of art was my first product in this new world of commerce and it was highly appreciated by many. I did many more interesting gigs after that but the most heartwarming was a love letter I wrote for a girl whose father had survived COVID-19. She cried after reading it stating it was the most love filled message she had read in a long time. Felix had told me about it in the happiest voice and for once in a long while I was moved by that knowledge. Many times I had to refer to the internet for tips on how to go about some projects. And like a mentor that he was, Felix was there to guide me through it all. He shared tips, experience, techniques with me that would help bring better results than the last projects. A year later since I started this new journey I found myself not so enthusiastic about it. It's like I had lost my love and interest for this phase and experience of my life that I felt so withdrawn. True, it was very demanding especially on my creative abilities but I sadly realized I was not in my most unique and comfortable zone. And so like years before, I decided to quit. I sent Felix a message in June, 2021, thanking him for everything: the teaching, support, advice and of course friendship. I told him in the nicest way that I wasn't ready to continue down this road of entrepreneurship, As a second-year nursing student my future career still obsessed me and I did not want to let that go. I did make a request to him that I wanted to be his official business partner in the art industry in future. More of a inactive one I reasoned. Sadly, he did not give a reply when I expected. I was hurt. I imagined he also had the same feeling of disappointment despite the confidence and encouragement he had given me and I still let him down. Some weeks later he responded. “I would gladly have you as my official business partner. Would you please accept my proposal to be my girlfriend?” he wrote back to me. Shock and surprise hit me as I digested the meaning of the message. I had a number of male friends but I had never dated or had a boyfriend before. This really was a first for me. I sent him an affirmative reply teasingly asking if he has had a girlfriend before. He said yes: me, in those days when we were in secondary school. And so that's how my love journey began with a guy called Felix. And till now, we are still going on strong in our relationship.
I recently watched Bo Burnham's Netflix special ‘Inside', and it got me thinking. I was originally going to write about the month I spent living in a camper with my boyfriend in May of 2020, but that wouldn't fully capture my experience of this entire lockdown. So here it is. My quarantine began much earlier than most people. After graduating high school in June of 2019, two-thirds of my family moved in with my grandparents. Those three-quarters being my mom and I, leaving my older sister behind in a gamer den with her soon to be fiancé. After taking refuge in my mom's parent's basement and guest room that summer, I frantically applied to the local University and was shockingly accepted at the last minute. I would be going to art school. Whoop. Don't get me wrong I love being creative, but forcing myself to make art on a whim has never been my thing. Anyway, of course, because I love stressing myself out, I applied for a job around the same time and started working on the opposite side of town. Did I mention my boyfriend got signed to a hockey team two provinces away at this time as well? So not only was I starting a new job, but I was also starting University and keeping up a long-distance relationship. So began the arduous journey of getting up at 6:30 in the morning to rush off to the bus stop with my arms full of art supplies. Two hours on the bus, eight hours of classes, and then, of course, two more hours home. Then came the hours of meticulously sketching, smudging and setting of work that would be looked at for ten minutes and set aside for new homework. Most nights I stayed up until one or two in the morning to get my studying done, just to wake up in a few hours and do it all over again. All while working on the weekends as a lifeguard and swim instructor. Our one year anniversary was a rough one. It's definitely something I will never forget. It was a Saturday, so I was working and honestly a bit exhausted after only a month of the rigorous University program. All was fine until I had a full-blown mental breakdown on my lunch. Don't ask me why, my mind works in mysterious ways. Maybe it was because instead of spending it with the love of my life having fun, I was around a bunch of underpaid overworked teenagers who couldn't care less about their job. I had a lot of breakdowns during those few months and I'm just starting to see why. I can't say my University experience was a complete failure though. There were some moments that made me want to hang on even longer than I did. Halloween was one of these moments. We all got to dress up (not that art students don't already dress eccentrically every day) and in drawing class, our teacher posed dressed as a clown for our reference. Another eye-opening moment was when I got my highest grade (and one of the highest in the class) on a project I put zero effort into. Zero. Zilch. But because I said it was a commentary on the arbitrary monetary value we place on things and time, I checked all the boxes. It was at that moment I realized I didn't want to go to University anymore. Also, the fact that I had a professor tell us in lengthy detail about his University debt and how we would be walking away with a piece of paper at the end of this all. That whole experience was like quarantine in itself because I didn't go out anywhere in my free time, I almost never saw my family because I left early in the morning and got back too late at night, and I only ever saw the same people in my classes. But that wasn't even the worst part. After quitting University, I cruised along, working here and there until IT came. In March of 2020, everything was closed down. The University, the pools, and the border. I think that's when my last ounce of sanity truly went down the drain. It was such a contrast to the amount of work and effort I had exuded in the months prior that all I could do was sleep, eat, and stare at the ceiling. That's a bit of an exaggeration, but when I think back to it, the month of March is like a blank slate in my mind's eye. The biggest thing I learned from the past year has had to be that University was a huge waste of my time. Wait no, it did teach me that, so maybe not. But really, my time since graduating high school has been wild and I have learned so much about myself and what I want from life. I've learned more about myself in the last two years than in my entire twenty years of existence, and I've come out of it being an even more creative and decisive person. So I would like to thank myself. Thank you for making it through to the other side and being even more of a pain in my ass to stick to my goals and dreams. *Raises glass of non-alcoholic beverage* Here's to another few years.
With the beginning of the new year comes the moment to announce my new book launch! And I start it with its cover and blurb reveal. I originally wrote Cruel Summer in Croatian over 20 years ago. By the end of February this year, I will release it in English. Cruel Summer is a Young Adult cross-genre novel with elements of social and family issues, teen and child abuse, extreme sports, conspiracy, mystery, murder and crime investigation, teen romance, sci-fi and dystopia. I hope I won't be distracted this time with earthquakes and other unpredictable situations and thus forced to postpone my release date again. Indie author Dean Cole did a fantastic job and made me fall in love with his stunning eBook and paperback cover. Working with Dean was a genuine pleasure. He is the fastest designer I worked with and he will professionally meet and fulfill your requirements before you are aware it is over. It took him only three days to deliver me such a brutally good book cover, as one of my friends commented it. Do I need to say more? Another indie author, also from the UK, saved me by helping me with the blurb for Cruel Summer when I was stuck with it. Jonathan Hill was my savior and magician also for the blurbs for my other two books, January River and Look for Me Under the Rainbow. This time again he did an amazing job, and I can never thank him enough for his professionalism, patience and kind help. Cruel Summer Blurb All he wants to do is skate. But they have other plans for him. Michael Daniels is seventeen and dreams to enter professional skateboarding contests. But beneath New Manhattan, a city under the oppressive shadow of climate change, exists another world altogether—secret laboratories which threaten society as he knows it. Those with power will get what they want. No price is too high, even if it means making someone special or robbing them of their dignity, freedom . . . or life. The price is too high for Michael, though. He has endured his stepfather's abuse and mind games for almost as long as he remembers. Until one day he takes matters into his own hands, ruining the lives of those he loves most. And his skateboarding friends, Alien and Victor, are his only hope for freedom. When there is no hope left, friendship is what remains. Please show some love to Dean and Jonathan by following them on their Twitter and on Goodreads where you can also find their books. And don't forget to look for Cruel Summer when it goes online and becomes available on my Amazon profile. BJ Original post: https://www.bernardjan.com/post/cruel-summer-cover-and-blurb-reveal
Glad to have found this app as Twitter gets me nowhere aka I'm invisible. Had to go Private to get Peace-Of-Mind but between you and me it doesn't help when as an novelist you're trying to get your stories discovered by readers. That's why I decided to go offline with Twitter until my series is completed and ready to be distributed. My imposed deadline, mid-September. I've signed up new distribution platforms. I've decided on how to repackage my series and I've updated all my covers. Nice to meet you all! I'll sign this with my own author's signature. Yours in blood, CeDany BB V-V!
If you have the privilege as a woman to never have been sexually abused or assaulted, it might be difficult for you to understand the mixed emotions you might have towards your abuser. Let me explain better. When someone you love or admire assaults you, you might not hate them immediately, heck, you might never hate them at all. It's difficult to go from admiration and love to hate. It's also a very exhausting process. When my favourite person in the world, outside of my nuclear family assaulted me when I was barely 8 years old, I didn't know how to feel. I was pretty close to my mum so I just had to tell her. Before I did, I made her promise to not flair up. I didn't want my abuser to feel ‘bad'. Obviously, she flared up and banished him from visiting or sleeping over. This was very difficult for all of us because we really loved this person. His mum (of blessed memory) was my favourite aunt and my mum's closest sister. My brothers also didn't know what happened at the time so they didn't understand why he was banished. The next time I met him at a family function, I was worried sick that he would hate me. To give context, this man is about 20 years older than me. I remember how relieved I was when he smiled at me. It meant he didn't hate me. It's been about 15 years since this thing happened and although he took the time to apologize to me when I was much older, I almost can't stand him. It was like one day, a switch flipped in my head and I instantly became angry. But even then, sometimes I still admire him. It's really exhausting. While interning in a broadcast outfit when I was 18, I went to get this exclusive interview with a (now dead) well-known and loved musician. Apart from the fact that he was loved by the general public, I also really loved his music. The interview took place in an apartment. First, we watched him play his instrument and I videoed the whole thing with a smile plastered on my face. I couldn't wait to show my father. I was watching this man play live! This legend! Throughout my stay there, this entertainer kept looking at me funny and making inappropriate sexual comments. I was starting to get uncomfortable but we were so many in the apartment so I didn't really feel threatened. While trying to leave the apartment, this man rushed behind me, held me behind and groped me. I tried to get away from him but he held me firmly. I almost had to be forced away from his grip after I raised an alarm and I immediately ran outside. I really admired this man. I loved his music but I was highly irritated. When I got home, I still showed my family the video before I dropped the bomb. I went to bed that night watching the videos of the talented musician that I really admired with mixed feelings. The days that followed weren't any better. I had to conduct vox-pops on this man, asking people what they loved about him. I didn't even know how to feel. When he died and I kept seeing the news everywhere, all I could remember was the humiliating incident. My best friend asked me if I was okay, and my mother told me how uncomfortable she felt seeing everyone worship the man and was wondering how I felt about it. How did I feel? Was I glad that he had died? Did I hate him or dislike him? Honestly, no. Do I still think his music is great? Yes. Would I listen to his songs? Maybe. Sometimes I think about these unfortunate experiences and I'm angry with myself for not hating my abusers. I should hate them right? Imagine not knowing how to feel about a terrible thing someone has done to you because you remember all the good that they have done. If you're feeling this way, I just want to let you know that it's okay to feel what you feel. Sometimes you hate them and sometimes you don't. But don't ever beat yourself up about feeling any type of way. If you feel like you can forgive them, it's fine but if you can't forgive them, that's equally okay. I've heard people talk about how it is impossible to heal from abuse if you don't forgive your abuser but I've also read too many articles that say otherwise. People shouldn't tell you how to feel about these things, it's pretty complex so it's okay to heal at your own pace.
As stated in the title, book 5 of my current urban/dark fantasy and paranormal romance series have its own cover reveal, so here it is...let me know what you think! Thanks everyone and I hope you're continuing staying safe and smart during these difficult times. Happy reading!
The graveyard is the richest place on earth, because it is here that you will find all the hopes and dreams that were never fulfilled, the books that were never written, the songs that were never sung, the inventions that were never shared, the cures that were never discovered, all because someone was too afraid to take that first step, keep with the problem, or determined to carry out their dream." Les Brown Now that I have shifted my focus from competitive bodybuilding to writing, the atmosphere of my mind has taken on an astounding clarity and expansiveness. ("I can see clearly now the rain is gone" just lullabied it's way through my head). I have become more aware of my emotions and the thought patterns they invoke. In doing so, ideas and inspirations for writing are continuously flowing through my psyche. I often feel as if I'm in "La La Land" and with each blink of my eyes a new path or journey appears… There are masterpieces everywhere! And I am awake and aware of it all. It's like I have stepped out of a shadow and sunlight continuously pours over me! Author: 13 years old - 1st competitionI love bodybuilding though - understand that! I lift heavy and have an insatiable penchant for pushing my limits. I fell in love with bodybuilding when I was thirteen. Actually, I became a fitness fanatic when I was ten while aerobics was making its world debut. It has served me well both physically and mentally. Had it not been for my intense focus in that arena we would not be having this conversation now! Bodybuilding, running, and cross training have kept me from plunging deep into the Dregs of Depression ,drug addiction, and alcoholism. Weight training and wanting to become a personal trainer kept me focused and alive. However, bodybuilding is not my thing. I am a writer. I started writing before I started working out and then abruptly shifted my focus to bodybuilding. When I did that, the writer stepped into the shadow of the bodybuilder. In 2018, the desire to begin my autobiography emerged again as it had done sporadically since 2006. However, my life took a few major twists and turns, as usual, and my autobiography slid to the side and "A Love Story: The Truth About Faith" was created. It took me a year to write and during that year an amazing transformation took place: my true self emerged from within the shadow. Seeing my book available on Amazon and having a young woman who is very dear to my heart tell me that it was what she needed at that precise time in her life birthed me into the fullness of my purpose as a literary artist. About two and a half months after publishing my book, I had a conversation with God. where He explained to me that he had allowed and encouraged me to focus on bodybuilding to keep me moving forward. He said this is my truth: I am not a bodybuilder who writes… I am a writer who participates in bodybuilding. You know how in the movies when someone has an epiphany and the clouds separate and angelic voices sing "ahhhhhh"? Well, that was that moment. It became crystal clear to me that I had misidentified myself! As this realization continued to manifest within me, I received more clarity about how I should be living my life. I don't know the right words to use to describe the feeling I have from living my life on purpose now. The shadow of uncertainty is gone. I awake each morning eager to see what the horizon of creativity will reveal to me. **** What's your thing? What is your passion in life? Do you even have passion in your life? Are you living on purpose or is life dragging you through the trenches of indecisiveness, procrastination or, even worse, stagnation? **** Do you know that you possess gifts, talents and abilities that have been cleverly and carefully woven together to fit your unique personality? The world needs your special mix! Someone somewhere NEEDS YOU! YOU MATTER!!!! It's not too late to make yourself your priority. Step out of your own shadow and let yourself BE YOU!
My novel about five friends, one dog and one river carrying a secret is competing in AllAuthor Cover of the Month contest for June 2020. If you like January River cover designed by Domi at Inspired Cover Designs, please cast your vote! Even if you don't like the cover, and you love dogs, cast your vote. A golden retriever from its cover will be grateful to you, and so will I! Please also check this heartwarming coming-of-age literary fiction with episodes of mystery and romance cross-genre story on Amazon and leave an honest review if you like stories of true friendship, first darlings, and real loves, beautiful nature and our four-legged friends who quickly become honorable members of our families. Vote for January River as the cover of June 👉 https://allauthor.com/cover-of-the-month/8260/ January River on Amazon 👉 https://www.amazon.com/dp/B086LJJC8V January River on Goodreads 👉 https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/52890595-january-river Thank you! BJ Original blog post 👉 https://www.bernardjan.com/post/january-river-in-allauthor-cover-contest
My urban/dark fantasy and paranormal romance Keeper of La Tecla (The Key) series have new book covers! I couldn't be more proud of their turnout and I want to thank Befunky for working with me and allowing me the chance to use their app for the designing that I spent hours creating with my own hands. Hope everyone is staying safe!
I have submitted my new novel January River in two contests: TCK Publishing Reader's Choice Awards 2020 and AUTHORSdb Cover Contest 2020. TCK Publishing Reader's Choice Awards 2020 is a contest for best books in 16 categories. To reach the category of my book, click the arrows on the left and right side of the voting form to navigate between categories. Once you are on the page 13/16 of General Fiction books, scroll down until you get to January River and click on the book title to cast your vote. To vote for my book cover January River in AUTHORSdb Cover Contest 2020, please scroll down on this link where you will see a blue button Submit your Vote / Review. By clicking on it, you will cast your vote! Thank you very much for your votes and support! Please share these links with others, because, as you know, life of every book depends on your support and love. Cast your vote for January River in TCK Publishing Reader's Choice Awards 2020 (go to page 13/16 General Fiction) https://bit.ly/2W6mjXS Cast your vote for January River in AUTHORSdb Cover Contest 2020 https://bit.ly/3d9POiD I thank you for loving January River, a story of five friends, one dog and one river carrying a secret! BJ Original post: https://www.bernardjan.com/post/january-river-in-two-contests