Thanks to Bikurgurl for hosting #100WordWednesdays.
We live along the river in delapitated shanties. At sunrise we sleepily pull on our rubber boots and checked flannel shirts. It’s late fall and the days are chillier. It doesn’t mean we can’t fish, but the joy of a temperate summer is a distant memory. Gone are the laughter filled nights of plentiful fish, drinking rice wine until midnight.
Harsh temperatures have arrived. Our mornings are early so we can chase the waning light. Evening arrives and the catch is not terrible but not plentiful. The fish at this time of year are wiggly and stronger.
I shiver in the morning light, winter’s stinging winds drawing near. Soon the river will be coated with ice. Then, all we can do is drill a hole and hope for something to bite — anything.
Today’s NaPoWriMo prompt is to “write a poem that is a portrait of someone important to you. It doesn’t need to focus so much on what a person looks (or looked) like, as what they are or were.” The corresponding GoodRead’s Author’s Quote for the A to Z Challenge, begins with the letter I. Thanks toNEEKNERAJ of MindLoveMisery’s Menageriewho provided the wonderfully creepy photograph.
“If I’d been born a ghoul, I think I would’ve killed people. I just happened to be born a human. That’s the only reason why I’m allowed to live a moral life.” ― Sui Ishida
I knew her as a little girl,
Though others thought her odd.
She had that “something” about her,
People either loved or abhorred.
At first, I thought, she was enormously strange,
But her quirks endeared me to her.
She protected me from those cruel girls,
One smile from her, they stumbled away on their heels.
She had shocking violet hair on one side,
She was never quite a blond.
Always experimenting with new looks,
Trying to glean from her appearance,
Who she was inside herself.
Her eyes a brilliant cornflower blue glimmered,
When some person made her enraged.
Her friends all knew some stupid student,
Would soon regret their actions;
She only had to smile.
And some bullies face turned violet, rouge, or primrose.
My friend was odd but lively,
Never afraid to do anything.
Dragging me along, to be a part of her drama.
Of her wicked practical jokes,
Others whispered she was a bit ‘Tim Burton,’
Calling her the ‘corpse bride.’
But she would always smile,
In a way that scared many,
Who never knew the truth about her —
She was passionate, kind, and loyal.
If you could get past her walls, her insecurities,
She was most lovely and grew to be a beauty.
Her hair still half-purple — it was her thing.
How we knew her for her.
Her terrifying smile gleamed,
She could now afford braces,
For teeth that had scared everyone.
And when the braces disappeared,
Her teeth stood in straight white rows.
Her grim frown had turned forever upside down,
She was no longer that weird girl.
Though there was still ‘something’ about her;
Strange became a talent, something sought after,
When she transformed into a swan.
She became a cut diamond, no longer rough, she was —
Welcome to another edition of my bi-weekly interviews. I’m sorry this is a week late but better late than never eh? Anyways, I’m excited to share with you the beautiful, kind, and talented writer and blogger, Deborah Glover from the blog: BookyGLover.
1. Please Tell Us About Yourself?
My name is Deborah (Booky Glover). I am from Ondo state, Nigeria, but I live in Lagos.I am a Choleric/Melancholic, my parents first child, and with that position comes responsibilities. I am a teacher by profession and a writer by passion. I’m also a Christian. and a foodie who reads, writes, listens to music and loves to make new friends.I began my blog writing for my eyes only in 2005 but began blogging for anyone to visit starting in July of 2015.
2. What Does Writing and Blogging Mean To You?
Writing is a means of expressing myself.Whatever I am feeling, thinking of, or going through, I can write about it. Writing became more important to me when I began to experience unpleasantness in life. It became my means of surviving. I wrote down my pain and anger and all this writing made me feel better. It helped me see that the things I was going through were not quite as bad as I thought. Writing my thoughts down also gave me understanding about my situation and a different perspective.
“Writing became more important to me when I began to experience unpleasantness in life. It became my means of surviving. I wrote down my pain and anger and all this writing made me feel better.” – Deb Glover
3. Where do you Find Your Inspiration and Motivation to Write? Do You Find There Is A Time of Day You Enjoy Writing Most?
Life is my motivation. I see people, I listen to their tales and in the stillness, the words come to me. After I start writing, I don’t stop writing until I feel my flow of thought is cut off. Music is inspirational as well.
I don’t have a particular time I prefer writing. There are times when I wake early in the morning with the intention of writing and nothing comes out. At these times, writing becomes a chore and I write a lot of nonsense.
But, there are times when I’m walking down the road and a line comes to me, or many words rush into my mind. In those times, I pick up my pen and book and scribble beside the road. Other times I write in the receptionist office while I wait for a job interview. I write at odd times and I’ve learned to keep a paper and pen with me at all times, even at my bed side.
4. What is Your Most Current Writing Project? Have You Published Any Writing or Are Your Planning to Publish Any?
I’m working on a book. It’s a novel. I have been really lazy in working on it but in good time I’ll finish it. I have a complete Novella. It needs editing work, a book cover, and then publishing. However, I feel skeptical about it. I completed the novella back in 2014.
“Life is my motivation. I see people, I listen to their tales and in the stillness, the words come to me. After I start writing, I don’t stop writing until I feel my flow of thought is cut off.” – Deb Glover
5. What Kind of Publishing Are You Considering? What Is Your Process of Writing Like?
I have books I have read on publishing a book and I’ve chosen to self-publish online before publishing paperback novels. The first book I publish might be free.
My writing process begins when a thought drops into my mind and I write until the flow of ideas stops. Then I leave my work for a while — a few hours, a day or more — then I return to it to edit or see what can be made better in the story. For the stories or poems I write on my blog site, they are mostly unplanned. I write as the inspiration comes. I write for myself and hope that someone out there can relate to what I am feeling or what my feelings manifest as.
6. Do Prefer Certain Areas of Writing or Reading? Do You Have Favorite Genres? Do You Have Any Helpful Advice for Other Writers?
I like reading historical romances, detective books, poetry, African writers (mainstream), and sometimes I read Christian books. Apart from these genres, I read pretty much anything as long as it is a book. I only fling a book to the corner of the room when I’m halfway through the book and it is not making sense yet. I like to give every book I choose to read a chance.
Advice for other writers would be: Write. Write to please yourself. No one has written the exact way you write, no one has seen the world the way you see it. No one will put it down the way you would.
“My writing process begins when a thought drops into my mind and I write until the flow of ideas stops. Then I leave my work for a while — a few hours, a day or more — then I return to it to edit or see what can be made better in the story.” – Deb Glover
7. Is There Anything Else You Would Like to Share With Us Pertinent to Writing or Yourself?
Every writer shares bits and pieces of herself/himself. We are after all everyday people. I find out that when those bits slip into my work, I produce something beautiful.A work that makes me ask myself, ‘Did I really write something that good?”
8. Please Share With Us Your Top Three Favorite Blogs:
Jacqueline Oby-Ikocha — Jacqueline’s posts vary from poetry, fiction, personal issues, to photography. She hosts blogging parties and I’ve always enjoyed meeting new bloggers through them.
Sweet Aroma —Oneta Hayes is a great-grandma who is passionate about life, living, Christianity, humanity, and most importantly, she shows me how to be a better person through her comments on my blog posts. She’s one awesome woman!
Adebisi Olatunji FeminineMaterz — Adebisi does not write so much poetry but she shares the reality of our world in regards to the viewpoints of a woman. She dabbles in story writing and so far, it has been fun following her blog.
P.S – Most of the blogs I follow are awesome and I could talk about each of them and tell you how beautiful they make my day.
9. Please Share With Us Some of Your Favorite Links from Your Blog:
Keep Moving Forward
By Deborah Glover
“If you can’t fly then run, if you can’t run then walk, if you can’t walk then crawl, but whatever you do you have to keep moving forward.” ~ Martin Luther King Jr.
Thank God, I’ve been a lot better. I am taking each day with all the bravery and courage my little heart can muster. I recently have had issues with my phone and this makes blogging, writing, or reading a chore. I have abandoned my e-books for paperbacks and long hours of chatting has changed into hours of reading my Bible and reading books I have not touched or opened in two years.
The words of Martin Luther King Jr. keep ringing in my heart. I have to keep moving forward. This quote has been my father’s favorite. We have had tough times in the family and he always said the quote below to me. He would quote Martin Luther King Jr words.
I won’t give up. You shouldn’t give up too.
Until next time,
“Booky, I won’t say there are problems so I won’t make an effort to be better. I have to keep investing time in my career, my vision and you have to do the same. If you can’t run, you walk….” — Mr. Glover (Deborah’s Dad)
Here Are Three More Links from Deborah’s Blog to Read:
Thank you so much to Deborah for sharing her writing and bits of her lifewith us. I appreciate her wanting to be interviewed and hope she is happy with the results. I am looking forward her novella and current novel, being published through self-publishing or otherwise. Here is the link to Deborah’s blog one more time: BookyGLover.
If you are a writer or blogger who would like to be interviewed for my biweekly interview series please contact me through my contact page HERE. See you in a week, I’m going to try to get the interviews back on their every second Monday schedule.
1. “It was dusk and the light had an ultra-violet quality to it, a final burst of pigmentation as night and day rushed at each other in a clash of colour prisms before darkness finally, inevitably won out.”
― Karen Swan, Christmas in the Snow
2. “The dance between darkness and light will always remain— the stars and the moon will always need the darkness to be seen, the darkness will just not be worth having without the moon and the stars.”
― C. JoyBell C.
3. “But if I’ve learned anything, it is that goodness prevails, not in the absence of reasons to despair, but in spite of them; if we wait for clean heroes and clear choices and evidence on our side to act, we will wait forever . . . [life] . . . teach[es] me that people who bring light into the world wrench it out of darkness, and contend openly with darkness all of their days; [… they] were flawed human beings, who wrestled with demons in themselves as in the world outside; [for] me, their goodness is more interesting, more genuinely inspiring because of that reality; [the] spiritual geniuses of the ages and of the everyday simply don’t let despair have the last word, nor do they close their eyes to its pictures or deny the enormity of it’s facts; [they] say, “Yes, and …,” and they wake up the next day, and the day after that, to live accordingly.”
(I truly meant for this to be Flash Fiction, but the story just developed. Sorry about the way – over word count.)
Grandma June huffed at Natalie, her granddaughter visiting her at home.”You’re not getting any younger, you’re thirty-eight. You can’t barely have babies anymore!”
Natalie rolled her eyes at Grandma June,”Gran, I’m an elementary school teacher. I like going home and not having to worry about kids.”
June sighed,”It was that man, you were supposed to marry. He’s a thief and stole your heart; I’m right aren’t I?”
Natalie ignored June’s question. She hated when her Grandma or anyone, talked about Christopher. She’d never admit he was her one.
He hadbeen since she was in grade ten and Christopher an attractive senior in high school. It was when he had first asked Natalie out. They’d broken-up, having had incompatible lives with Christopher away at university soon after.
Then, seven-years-ago, they’d ran into each other and started talking and dating again. Natalie had convinced herself this was finally it. Sadly, a few weeks before the wedding, Christopher had disappeared; the memories were agony for her.
Two-week’s later, Grandma June called Natalie up to invite her to a wine and cheese night she was hosting for her neighbours. She had tried to decline but June was adamant Natalie attend.
She arrived at her Grandma June’s surprisingly lively wine party, in jeans and a white t-shirt. She had barely bothered to apply makeup as Natalie had come from the gym and was worn out.
“Oh you came,” Grandma June said excitedly, approaching Natalie as she let herself inside. She hugged June and kissed her cheek, as June poured Natalie a large glass of red wine and filled her plate with bread and cheese. She winked at Natalie and left her alone in a small sitting room to rest before joining the other guests.
“Natalie?” A deep voice said. She turned on the sofa towards the sitting room door. Christopher’s voice shocked her, she had almost doused herself in red wine. His familiar timber filled Natalie with great pain. She peered up at him feeling raw, as if he’d only left her yesterday without explanation.
Tears began dripping down Natalie’s cheeks; she was crying and couldn’t stop herself. Christopher immediately sat down on the sofa beside Natalie and pulled her close; he wiped her tears away with his thumb. She tried to jerk out of his arms, but he wouldn’t let her move.
“I’m not letting you go, ever again,” Christopher swore.”I can’t explain much about why I had to leave you, only that I didn’t have a choice.”
Natalie shoved him hard, “You have nothing more to say, nothing at all?”
Christopher was noticeably upset, “I told you I worked as an IT consultant. But I could never tell you or anyone who I worked for until recently. I worked for Special Forces in the army and I was called out to a job. It’s the only thing I can’t about. The job lasted years, and I wasn’t allowed to contact anyone. We saved countless lives, but it was awful what I did to you and being without you. I’m sorry.”
Natalie rubbed her swollen eyes, “You’re a liar Christopher. You could’ve mentioned something, anything. What do you want now? To stay for a while and then leave?To rip me apart again?”
Christopher buried his face in his hand, before gazing up at her: “I’m out now Natalie. I swear to you I work for regular businesses now, nothing to do with Special Forces or the army. I’ve no more secrets other than experiences of war and blood. I came back here for you, I even moved into a house on your Grandma June’s street. I hoped somehow, you and I could be together again. I love you.”
Natalie made a sound of frustration. Emotions of both anger and feeling relieved assaulted her. Despite her anger at Christopher, Natalie knew inside, there would never be another man for her but him.
To Christopher’ surprise, Natalie moved to sit in Christopher’s lap and be closer to him, to breathe in how delicious he smelt.
“Marry me now and we can do whatever celebration our families want later. I’m still mad at you Christopher but you’re it for me. I’ve always loved you and always will. If you can be with me and never leave me like that again, I can forgive you.”
Christopher nodded at Natalie, saying: “I promise.” He held Natalie tightly and kissed her lips hungrily.
Suddenly, there was a loud knock on the sitting room door and Grandma June walked in, a smile on her face. June’s boyfriend Nigel was with her and so was the local United Church minister.
Natalie looked at Christopher, “Did you do all this?”
Christopher shook his head, squeezing Natalie tight and kissing her cheek. He pulled out a beautiful sapphire and diamond ring set from his pocket. He slid the engagement ring on Natalie’s finger, and Grandma June handed Natalie a ring which had been her Grandfather’s wedding ring.
June smiled at Natalie and Christopher, a gleam in her clever blue-eyes. All was at it should be, she thought as her and Nigel witnessed her granddaughter’s wedding ceremony.