FIRST Book Signing!!!

This Tuesday is another momentous occasion! I haven't been able to blog about my many adventures since June due to my move in home location (see my fb page for futher details :D) but tonight, I will do my best to get you all up to date!

My book launch was quite the success! I had about 30 attend, and I've sold about 40 books, so far! It was such a pleasant surprise to see some of the older folks in my church come and show their excitement and support of this project, despite the fact that the subject matter may not matter much to them. And to my surprise, one lady in particular came and told me how she wasn't quite sure she would like it, but couldn't put it down after the 7th chapter! Now, I know that as a writer in this world, I need to pull people in much quicker than the 7th chapter..... but that really meant so much to me!

Now, I'm preparing for my first EVER BOOK SIGNING!! I have two more planned, one for September at the Garden Gate Teahouse and the other in November at the Warsaw Community Library... and actually, the one planned in Warsaw, I'm just speaking at their Writer's Club! I feel so honored! I'm wanting to go to the Rossville Library to see if they'll host me in October sometime.

That's all I can do for tonight! So much planning to do! I'm trying to work on Book 1, but between college and life... yeah....

The Order

Today, I placed my order for 295 books! With the package that I got from my publisher, 45 of those books are free, and the rest I got at a special Author Discount. To any and all considering to buy a book from me, please don't buy it off of Amazon (sorry, Amazon). I love Amazon, but I make zilch when a book is purchased from them... and I'd really like to make back some of what I spent on this :P Hopefully I'll be able to give some discounts, but I'm not promising anything yet. I'm just excited to finally have the books in my hands and have more on the way! This is my baby, and now others can enjoy it!

The Hard Copy

On June 21st, 2013, a great many monumental things happened. But in the midst of them all, I received my two copies for my final analysis!!! They are so beautiful! I smelled them, and, of course, they smell like perfectly bound, glossy-covered books! I haven't figured out what font they used, but it fits the style perfectly! And MY NAME is on the cover!!! And MY PICTURE is inside the front flap!!! It all looks so beautiful, I did my happy dance in the dining room.

For anyone who may be reading this, for the record, I dedicated my novel to Katelyn and Ashley Hufford, Hannah Darling, Emily Souerdike, Hannah Lewis, Danielle Kelley, and the other girls in my church who inspired me and made me feel like my book was worth continuing. And, of course, I also dedicated it to my little brother, Thomas. He's been so good to me in this whole process, believing that I had more in me and helping me brainstorm when I thought I was out of ideas. My book wouldn't have made it past Chapter 10 without him.

I took the book with me to work because I knew I would see Thomas there and I wanted to show him the dedication in person. While at work, the front cover caught the eye of Sarah Houser, a fellow waitress and friend. She didn't believe that I had written it until she saw my picture on the front flap. Then she flipped out. She showed it to every one of my fellow coworkers, always getting the same reaction: "WHAT!?"  "Heather?"  "No way!"  "Get out of town!" Before long, it was my own little rave. A customer at the back of the restaurant told their waitress that they wanted to talk to me. It was a singer from Woodstock named Melanie. She gave me her latest album, "Ever Since You Never Knew Me." She talked to me about my book and wanted to buy a copy on the spot! I knew I couldn't sell her my Author Copy (and I only brought the Hard Back version-- which is 40$ -_-) So I took her information so I could send her a copy! My First Sale!

It's been an eventful past few days, but this is the first little wave in the excitement for my book. I can't wait for you all to read it!

The Last Leg

It's been too long since my last post, I know! But then again, I always say that. The occasion for this post is the announcement that I am that much closer to getting my book self-published! There were two portions that I had to go through and finally edit: the final galley and cover. The galley is the finished, designed interior of my novel. This includes the title page, dedication page, "Thank You's," Copyright page, Prologue, Epilogue, and everything in between. Having taken a computer-aided publishing class at Purdue, I knew what I was looking for as far as design elements: contrast, repetition, alignment, and proximity. I understood the thought behind the font choices and appreciated the use of White Space. :) As for the cover design, I only understood the portions of it that I have already explained. For the most part, the colors and all blew me away! I can't wait for you all to see it!

I looked them over and made changes. They sent the revised manuscript and cover, I said "yay! it looks great!" and I am now waiting for the print versions to look over and say, "yay! it looks great!" I'm in the process of designing a website, which is almost done, on which I'm going to place a link for this blog and my new facebook page for my book, which I've already created. Check it out! I'll put the link at the bottom! I'm anticipating just a few more weeks until my book is finally out. And when it's out, trust me... You'll know about it. :)

https://www.facebook.com/pages/My-World-of-Conceit/465761266851456

English 409: Intro to Fiction

I have been participating in this class at Purdue University since the beginning of January, and now... my first short story is due! I have critiqued the short stories of others for almost four weeks now, and now... it's my turn! I get shivers just thinking about it! (Pardon the cliche) I have been up for the past three hours refining and printing my short story. I actually had to print out one copy for every student in the class (18). The final copies are being printed now. I thought anyone who was still listening might appreciate a snippet of some things I write. So, here it is! Tell me what you think! I could use some critiquing!

Heather Glenn

English 409: Workshop 1

February 8, 2013

Instructor: Conor Broughan

 

Train Station

 

            At six o’clock on a Tuesday evening, I stepped over the threshold of the Grand Central Station entrance from the ticket booth. The place brought a world of strangeness to everything familiar to me. The suits and ties dashed about in a frenzy, dragging weighty suitcases behind them, a palm pilot in hand. Tight mini-skirts waddled upon the five-inch stilettos with a tap-tap-tap along the cold marble floor. Shoulders pushed past my shoulders, both directions. I turned an entire three-hundred and sixty degrees. People rushed past me before I bumped into a steel bench, wiggling promptly into the wedge available to me. I hugged my purse, right between the seductive businesswoman and the gangster with the blaring screamo music, as I glanced up at the clock again. The screeching music, the woman beside me yelling into her phone, a few wailing kids a few feet away, and the loudspeaker above announcing the arrival of the next train rattled in my brain. My ears actually felt numb with it all. A high ringing noise pervaded the air. Face after face passed me. I felt the dizziness crowd my eyes as they all whirled around me, their lives never on hold.

The hands on the clock slipped past seven. The entire world around me pushed and shoved their way through the hurried crowd, trying to clamber their way up their own ladder of success. They all had their reasons for being there, and none of them had to do with mine. None of them cared. They had their own troubles. You could see it in the way they nudged in and out between their fellow human beings without so much as an “excuse me” on their lips. They never heard each other. They never saw each other. It was the only thing familiar to me. Ignored by fellow man. That was my credo.

Hip-to-hip and shoulder-to-shoulder with those on my bench, I awkwardly slipped my hand into my purse and withdrew the ticket I had just purchased. I pulled back into my little slot on the bench quickly as a Donald Trump wanna-be backed into me. My ticket was yanked from my hands, and I surged forward, grappling along the floor between the tasseled loafers and beige heels for my precious ticket. They came dangerously close to stepping on my little fingers, but I snatched up my ticket and backed into my seat on the bench, holding my ticket closely to my chest. I couldn’t lose it. It took all my guts to get this far. And this time, I was determined to go through with it. I was determined to leave. I tugged on my sleeve and chanted, “Carson’s a loser… Kate’s a loser… Carson’s a loser… Kate’s a loser…”

I could hear Dan’s voice in my head. “You deserve better than this, Wendy.”

I tugged a little harder on my sleeve with my twitching fingers and accidentally elbowed the kid next to me. He tossed his black hood from his head and ripped the ear buds from his ears. “Watch it, lady!” he sneered.

“I’m sorry,” I apologized quickly before he reinserted his ear buds. “I’ve come here at least three times before, and I always end up going back home. I just can’t stand the crowd,” I explained, flustered and reaching out for some sort of warm, human contact.

“Yeah… whatever…” he replied with a look as if I should be accompanied by an orderly.

I looked back down at the yellow paper: my ticket. The destination: somewhere south. I didn’t care where. Location didn’t matter, just direction. So long as it was away, I didn’t care. I just wanted to be away. I smoothed out the crumpled edges with my unpainted fingernails. How many times had I chickened out? I couldn’t do it again. I had to go through with it. I had even bought the ticket this time. I couldn’t go back home. The heartlessness of the hardened crowd around me reminded me of that. But the inky paper was too soft for a place like this. This place where you couldn’t escape someone’s touch, yet be so terribly abandoned. With another glance at the crowd around me, I had to get out. I had to go home. I had to be away from this. I suddenly couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t do this. It was too strange. It was too terrifying. I made for the door.

 

            I kicked through the mail that had been shoved through the slot in my door as I walked into my apartment. Tossing my purse on the counter, I bent over and picked up the various envelopes as I slipped off my shoes and left them by the door. There was a check from Dad in a long, business-like envelope… and another from Mom in a more square, pink slip… Each was worth one-thousand dollars. Dad used to just send me a hundred or so every so often, then I made the mistake of telling Mom that he sent me money. So, of course, she had to out-do him. She sent me two-hundred. Once Dad found out she was sending me two-hundred, he sent me three-hundred. It was a ridiculous, immature cycle that benefitted me pretty well once a month. I didn’t even have to pay for rent, anymore.

The message light on my land-line blinked as I dropped the rest of the mail on the counter. I picked up the phone and selected my message. I jumped up on the counter and let my legs swing as the dial tone came and I waited for my message. Ripping up my train ticket, I let the pieces fall into the garbage can below me and glanced around my apartment. I nodded with satisfaction at the cleanliness. I wouldn’t have shoe marks on my coffee table, couch, or even on my carpet. Everyone took off their shoes at the door. The walls were a distinct shade of eggshell with taupe trim. I always left the ceiling fan running. With so much clean air and space, I could breathe. All of my dishes were neatly put away and stacked by color to coordinate with the Formica countertop. I had left everything as I had hoped it to be found: neat and orderly so that organizing them for a sale after I was gone would be easy.

My refrigerator was cluttered with A+ Biology exams from St. John’s University and Disney magnets. Old pictures of me and Kate were scattered over it. Our red hair blended into each other’s, and we set off our own green eyes. I sighed at how people thought we were twins. I didn’t even have freckles. We used to act like it, though. People said that if they stood between us when we laughed, it would be like a surround-sound stereo system. Our skinny arms were wrapped around each other tightly. I was wearing my favorite Colts hoodie with the little rip in the sleeve so I could slip my thumb through and play with the little bit of dangling string. I was actually smiling in that picture. I used to like it. But that picture was taken before our parents’ divorce.

The magnet of Aladdin and Jasmine held up the picture of me, Carson, and Brody, my Border Collie that had died two months ago. Carson had given him to me when we first started dating. In that picture, Carson wore his hair a bit longer. But lately, he started cutting it short. I kept telling him I liked it longer with his hazel eyes. But Kate liked it shorter.

 I zoned back in when my message finally began.

            Hey Wendy… This is Dan… I was just wondering when we were going to meet tomorrow. Gimme a call. I sighed. Poor Dan. He was trying so hard to cheer me up. I dialed his number.

            “Hey Dan. This is Wendy,” I sighed, relieved to finally be back home to familiarity. He had no way of knowing that I was planning for a few short hours not to show up tomorrow. I was planning on being very far way by then. I went to the freezer and yanked on the door.

            Hey Wendy. We still on for tomorrow? Dan’s sweet voice sounded from the other side.

            “Yeah. Where do you wanna meet? When?” I asked as I pulled out the milk. I opened the lid and cracked the bit of ice forming on the top, pouring the freezing milk into a tall, blue glass.

            Well, are you sure Carson’s cool with us hanging out? Dan asked from the other end.

            “He’s meeting me here afterward. Don’t worry about it, Dan,” I reassured. I withdrew the peanut butter from the Lazy Susan and peeled back the lid. Grabbing a spoon from the silverware drawer, I jumped back up onto the counter top, peanut butter in one hand and milk in the other.

            You know my policy on boyfriends, Wendy. I really love hanging out with you, but if he’s not cool with it, neither am I, he warned.

            “Don’t worry about it, Dan. How about the polar bear exhibit? Nine?” Just then, another call came in. It was Carson. “Is that cool?”

            Yeah, that’ll be great. I’ll bring my Bible, he said calmly. He always remembered the important things.

            “Hey, I’ve gotta go. Carson’s calling me.”

            Keep your cool, Wendy. I hung up on him.

            “Hey Carson. What’s up?” Nothing in my voice suggested that he would have never seen me again, had I not chickened out two hours before. My secret was safe.

            Not much, babe… About tomorrow… Kate wants to come over, too. I figured the three of us could chill at your place. It’s been a while since you’ve seen your big sister.

            I tensed up so quickly, my hands shook with the phone clutched tightly. I almost threw it across the room. Instead, I shoved my milk and peanut butter into the sink with a loud “CLANG!”

            What was that?

            “Nothing. That’ll be fine,” I lied. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” I hung up before he could say he loved me first. I sighed softly, then turned to the dishes I had rashly discarded. I washed them slow enough so that I could read the little bits of Bible verses I had taped up to the wall over the sink. It was the story of Jonah.

When I was done, I yanked the picture of me, Brody, and Carson off the refrigerator.  Then, off came the best pictures of me and Kate. I threw them all into the sink and stuffed them down the drain. I flipped the switch for the garbage disposal.

 

            “It’s too bad we aren’t here around feeding time,” I remarked as Dan and I stood in front of the polar bear display.

            “That’d be pretty cool,” Dan replied. He was always cool and collected no matter how large the elephant in the room. Nothing could shake his nerve. He stood taller than me by almost a foot and a half and was only eighteen months older than me. He was going to turn twenty-two in June. He wasn’t quite as handsome as Carson, with a thick, clumsy smile and hair that belonged in a fashion magazine from the 80’s. He had a Bible small enough that his pocket soon accepted it and began to form fade marks around it. For the longest time in high school, he threatened to wear a kilt permanently to honor his heritage. I wouldn’t have put it past him. Needless to say, he wasn’t my type. But I loved him for it.

            “Are you going to talk to Carson?” he asked me pointedly.

            “Well, I can’t, really,” I replied, tapping on the glass lightly. Dan’s head cocked my way. “Kate’s coming over with him.” He breathed out heavily.

            “This has to stop, Wendy,” he said, irritated. “Couples should talk about their problems. And he has a lot of them.”

            I continued to stare into the aquatic blue before me where the blurry, white bear glided around elegantly. I just listened. When it came to talking to Dan, listening was better than replying. He normally had something truly earth-shattering to say if you gave him long enough.

            This time was different.

            “I can’t help you anymore, Wendy,” he said. His voice had a tone of surrender. “Believe me, I want nothing more than to go break that guy’s nose. But you need to fix this.”

            I tried listening again, but he wouldn’t have it.

            “Wendy,” he pushed my shoulder a bit so I would have to face him. His boring, brown eyes looked straight into mine. They shifted as he glanced from one of my eyes to the other. “Don’t do anything stupid.”

            I shrugged him away and looked back at the polar bears. “I’m so sick of everything, Dan,” I murmured as I continued to stare. “I’m so sick of it all.”

            “Then fix it,” he said simply.

            “Kate’s my sister. I can’t help who my family is. This problem isn’t just going to go away. It might even be better if I…” I stopped myself before I let my secret trip to the train station slip from my lips.

            “Don’t run, Wendy,” he said softly. I looked at him, but he only continued to follow the graceful dance of the polar bear in the water with his eyes. “Remember Jonah?”

            “I’m not running from God, Dan,” I sighed.

            “But you’re running from your problems,” Dan quickly corrected me. I wondered if he knew about my escapades, but I was done arguing with people. “You know I’m always here for you, right?” he asked after a few moments of silence. “And I’m praying for you.”

            We stood parallel to one another before the aquarium. He reached up and put an arm around my shoulder, just like my Dad used to. “Yeah,” I replied. “I know.”

 

The first thing I noticed was the shoes, or lack thereof. There were no shoes beside the door. When I looked up, Kate had one foot on the couch, pulled up to her chest, and the other on Carson’s stomach as she lounged on the arm of the sofa. She was wearing her shortest cut-offs with a spaghetti-strap tank top. She let her long hair drape over the couch, away from her thin neck. She pushed her shoulders forward slightly so her shirt drooped even lower. A bowl of popcorn was on the coffee table, and two glasses of Mountain Dew were set—without coasters—on my wooden couch arms. Carson was slouched down into the couch, his shod feet on my clean, glass, coffee table. He had rolled up his plaid sleeves, one hand on the channel changer, the other on Kate’s upper thigh. His thumb was slowly moving up and down. One battle at a time, Wendy, I thought, raging. One battle at a time.

“You guys!” I burst out, trying to stay calm. “You know I don’t like shoes on the couch and coffee table! Why can’t you take them off at the door?”

“Oh, come on, Wendy,” Kate replied with a screwed smile tweaking the tips of her mouth. “Don’t overreact.”

“Yeah, keep it down, babe. It’s the eighth inning,” Carson replied, turning up the volume. He didn’t even look at me.

“That’s a nice way to greet your sister,” Kate sneered. “I haven’t seen you since Mom and Dad’s divorce. Why not a nice, “Hi, Kate! I’ve missed you!””

“Which commandment tells us not to lie, Kate?” I asked, hoping it would prick her as I let my purse drop onto the kitchen floor. Kate and Carson had been walking through mud, and it was all over my clean, white tile and carpeting. I glanced back at Carson and Kate on the couch. Kate had put both her feet on the ground. Mud from her shoes flaked away as she stomped them down. She leaned in to Carson, and he slipped his arm around her waist, resting his hand on her stomach comfortably.

“Is this better?” she hollered from the living room. “She always was a prude,” she muttered to Carson softly. I snatched some paper towel from the counter.

“Don’t worry about her,” he replied, just as softly. “She’ll get over it.”

“You’d think she’d be a little sensitive to the sister she hasn’t seen in almost two months,” Kate said, getting louder and louder as she spoke to make her point

“All I’m asking is that you respect my living space when you come over to hang out. I really like keeping things clean,” I said patiently, crawling around on all fours to pick up the bits of mud that had crumbled off in trails.

“I hear ya, babe. I’ll be more careful, next time,” Carson said, looking at me straight and nodding a bit. I could tell he was sincere and almost thanked him.

“Oh, come on, Carson!” Kate butted in. “Don’t be a wimp! She can handle a little dirt!”

I bit my tongue.

“Lay off, Kate,” Carson said, almost annoyed. “The commercials are over.”

“Holy crap, Wen!” Kate exclaimed. “Your hair is disgusting! When was the last time you washed it?”

“I took a shower this morning!”

“If you’re so obsessed with this place, why can’t you at least put a little more effort into your appearance? Talk about hypocritical.”

I breathed deeply. “I will overlook the fact that that was a complete misuse of that word and merely repeat that I showered this morning.”

“Yeah, I know,” Kate said, sitting up a bit and propping herself up on Carson’s knee. “I was going to shower, but you used all the hot water. Thanks for being so considerate.”

“Um- this is my apartment,” I seethed, glaring at the precarious positioning of her hand as she continued to lean on Carson. “If you want to come and eat my popcorn and drink my Mountain Dew and use my electricity and—yes—even use my boyfriend, you’re going to play by my rules. That means, shoes go off at the door, coasters go under the drinks, you’re going to sit at opposite ends of the couch, and get your slutty hands off my boyfriend.” Kate gaped.

“She’s fine, babe,” Carson muttered before Kate’s red face could cuss me out. He was still staring at the baseball game. “I don’t care if you don’t.”

Kate guffawed. “Yeah, Wendy, you sound like Mom.”

“Don’t start, Kate,” I said with a tone that bit her words off. We glared at each other, faces and eyes screaming a thousand words. I squeezed my eyes closed, then went to my room to cool off. I closed the door half-way and heard Kate and Carson from the other side.

“Geez, think you could freak out any more over a little dirt?” I heard Kate ask.

“That was totally insane. My Mom never got that mad at me,” I heard Carson concur. I softly opened the door and peeked through. Kate had turned over so she was leaning face first into Carson’s chest.

“She’s so obsessive! How can you stand to be around her?” Carson shrugged. “She’s got to be a bummer to go clubbing with.”

“Oh, we don’t go clubbing,” Carson interrupted her, popping popcorn into his big mouth. “She’s a bit too righteous for that.”

“It’s all that Bible crap,” Kate said, leaning up close to Carson’s face. “We should ditch her. She’s such a buzz-kill.”

“Eh, I don’t know,” Carson said, glancing back the direction of my room, then back to Kate. “Let’s just stick around a little longer to see if she doesn’t lighten up. You could lighten up a bit, too.”

Kate gave a little giggle. “Stop tickling me!” She giggled again.

I snapped.

My coat in one hand and my keys in the other, I stormed from my room, grabbed my purse, and ran out the front door, slamming it behind me. I only caught a blurred glance of the two of them in a flirty tussle on the couch. I heard the giggling stop for a couple seconds, then recommence. I didn’t stay any longer to find out what would come next.

 

You would think that Grand Central Station would be familiar to me by now, my fifth time standing amid the crowd. The cold marble beneath my feet freeze my toes as I stand, motionless. The high ceiling, with all its intricate work, is too cluttered by lights and designs to be a breathing space for my eyes. My claustrophobia adds to the pressures that build up in my head, compressing everything to the sound of a feather dropping in a lightless room. I don’t care about the neatness of my ticket. I crumple it up in one hand, grasping so tightly that my entire hand turns white. This ticket is going to take me farther north. Maine, I think. The train is scheduled to leave in thirty minutes. I have to kill time somehow before I start to notice the crowd again. I move to the wall and find a bench there. I open my purse, the only bag I brought with me, and rummage through it for something to occupy my mind. I find my Bible and remember Jonah, the passages I had been memorizing over my dirty dishes. I quickly put my Bible back in my purse.

Opening the brochure advertising Maine, I glaze over the fall foliage and summer horse-back rides, dreaming of the life laying before me. It’s only a few hours away! Soon, it will all be over. I have plenty of money from the cashed checks and savings I withdrew before arriving at the train station, and I’m really beyond caring that my registration at St. John’s will be dropped. With Brody gone, there’s no one left to depend on me or care if I suddenly break a date without explanation. But in Maine, I will make new friends. The friends I’ll make in Maine will care about what happens to me. I can make friends easily enough at church and work. Finding a job in this economy will be difficult, but I know God will be with me. And He cares, too. I have to quit thinking about what I’m leaving behind and focus on what adventures lie ahead!

But there is still another fifteen minutes until my train leaves. I open my wallet and find the various pictures I keep with me at all times: “My Treasures” I used to tell people as I flipped through the various pictures of Mom, Dad, Kate, Carson, Dan, and my other friends, telling my audience about how lucky I was. I stop on the picture of Dan.

“Don’t run, Wendy.” His words reverberate from the high ceiling of Grand Central Station. My heart feels wrenched from my chest as I hear his words. Here, now, I have this one chance to get away from it all, to be relieved of all my burdens, to let it all go with a claim of anonymity to anyone I will meet hereafter. After getting off the train, I will get rid of my ID. I will find a new name. Allison Birch. Yes. I’ll go by that name. And my family is dead. If anyone asks questions, I’ll stick with that. And I will be myself.

And I won’t think about the look on Dan’s face when he comes into my apartment, all clean and ready to be organized for a rummage sale… Yes, he would care. I know he would care as I picture the disappointed look on his face. And God would care. He wouldn’t want me to run from my problems, no matter how terrible. Dan and Jonah remind me of that. God would want me to face my problems. That means, going back to my apartment and confronting Kate and Carson. I really shouldn’t be with Carson, anyway. I would break up with him. I would tell Kate how much she hurt me. I would ask her to treat me better. If she refused, I would continue loving her as God loves me: unconditionally. I wouldn’t be a doormat, but I would be ready to forgive her if she ever asks. It’s a tearful picture.

As I sit on the bench, my ticket in one hand and “My Treasures” in the other, I suddenly change my mind. I’m no longer afraid of the crowd, only the scene I will come home to as I go back to my apartment and find Kate and Carson. I gather my purse and belongings and walk to the door, letting my crumpled ticket fall into a nearby garbage can.

“I’m going to fix this.”

THE END

Thanks again, everybody!

The Big Announcement

Here it is! The moment I've been waiting for for almost 8 years!!!! I'm writing tonight to announce that I have officially submitted my manuscript to be self-published! I had to write an auto-biography, summary, two-sentence description, describe what I want the front cover to look like, and submit a small portion to be posted on a web site that I will apparently have! :) I've been told several times by several people that I should never pay money to have my work published... but what if my work isn't worth ACTUALLY publishing??? I think I'd rather have a general reaction from an audience to tell me that than the stern, critical eye of a real life publisher. So here's my chance! I'm praising God for this amazing opportunity to see what I've written in a hard binding with a front cover and a dust jacket, so I can turn the pages and smell them! I'll see how this goes. If it goes well, who knows? If God wills, maybe I'll try a real publisher the second round. :) I still have some loop holes to work through, but I'm praying that everything will work out. Please pray that I'll keep God's will my focus. Thanks, everyone, for holding on while I've posted my progress and fallen short of posting. :( I'll keep you updated on futre progressions!

Until I Was Found By Love

Here's a poem I wrote for last semester's Creative Writing class... I'm posting it here so that I can add this URL to someone else's sight to help them out with something... so if you're not interested- don't read it! =P

p.s. It's in blank verse- sorry =P

Until I Was Found By Love

My name may be frothy
Full of feathers and frost it would seem
But I think it necessary to explain
That my name has not always been like me.

Described as a violent miss,
I loved the smell of blood mixed with mud
The gore of war I wanted
With the hard flesh and bone in my hand

People said that I was at the least heartless
Since I pitied no beast or man
The stain of pain is what I gave
And gained pleasure from groaning lips

“Stingy” they called me
Because I gave only to myself the things
Which I most cared about
Leaving those wanting to the waves of care

They also called me cruel
In a new sort of way
For neither child no wild adulteress
Was favored in my eyes

But I, myself, was naught but myself
In my manner and I showed it with pride and dignity.
My scarlet mark was stark and sure
And I displayed it to those I crushed.

That is, until I was found by Love.

He dared to care about my wanton
Desire to make people weep and bleed
My need was never so clear
As when He found me and helped me see

Dreadful, I was, and knew nothing of the love Love gave
He took my bloody mind
He washed it clean
And my sinful heart He saved

My heart then grew blithe like it was
Alive for the very first time
My heart dead like molten lead was no more
And I could start over again!

Now let me tell you the secret
(It really is a secret to tell)
That God is Love, and Love never fails
And a failure I was to the very core

My name is Melissa Kiss- a frothy name
And I was the worst of women to ever
Be found in all of this bloody world
Hopeless and helpless, I was dead in my sin

That is, until I was found by Love.