I’m delighted to announce that ‘the Turtledove’ went down a storm… Thank you from the bottom of my heart to all of you who read it, and reviewed it on Amazon. I cannot wait to share more of my stories with you. Here’s to many more.
How can we love and pray within our lover’s arms?
If by that which we denounce the love of hearts
To be sexless. Non-binary. Why must it be
That we, part of God’s family, are not allowed
To be proud of our identity; instead we suffer in
Silence and suicide and shame and the Church
Never utters its name.
Told young I would burn alive if I
gave in to the internal thrive
of desire for whomever it was back then I
wanted in my arms. Why can’t they see that
there is no harm, that we are too
Children of God and just want some calm in this world?
What gets me the most is that they see
Him as the Big Guy, so the Big Book must be followed
To a tee. Perfectly. No doubt that some would go ballistic
If they didn’t stick to their logistics
Because in this world that’s twisted, sick,
I am just a misfit.
I do not go to Church. It would not be fun
To be shunned whilst in the hand of your loved one
Who, by Christ, happens to be a woman.
Forgive us these sinners…
I will pray for you…
If you have that attitude, then I will see you in Hell my dear.
My blood shall not boil just because I am queer.
The Devil may care but the Lord does not.
Now, I’m pretty damn lucky with the life I’ve got
So you can’t throw all that away and say that
I’m a sinner cos I’m gay but don’t you see
I’m getting thinner cos your words are oppressing me,
Striking and undressing me to leave me exposed
In a world posed to strike. Did I have a say?
Do I have a right?
No choices, it’s biology;
Better than that it’s spiritually
A work of art, the human heart
And I won’t let it shame me.
So for all those in the dark space
Of the closet cos they can’t face
The light of day, who pray
To a God they don’t think loves them
But He does and it’s okay
To hold your head up high when weighed
Down by the incessant shaming
And bullies and naming as
Beneath it all,
Somebody loves you.
Nelly Sachs, (full name; Leonie Sachs) was born on the 10th December 1891. She grew up in Berlin, Germany, where she studied music and dancing at a young age, and later on began writing poetry. She was educated at home due to her frail health, and although she showed early signs of talent as a dancer, her protective parents didn’t encourage her to pursue a profession, most likely due to the ever rising prejudice in a rapidly growing Nazi -Germany. Therefore, Miss. Sachs grew up as a very sheltered, introverted young woman and never married. As the Nazis took power, she became terribly ridden with fear and horror, to the point where she temporarily lost the ability to speak. She was good friends with Selma Lagerlöf, a Swedish author and teacher, and also the first female writer to win a Nobel Prize (Nobel prize in literature, 1909). It was thanks to her that Nelly and her Mother escaped Nazi Germany. Shortly before her own death, Lagerlöf had intervened with the Swedish royal family to secure Nelly and her Mother’s release from Germany. They managed to escape on the last flight from Nazi Germany to Sweden, just a week before Sachs was scheduled to report to a concentration camp.
Sachs and her Mother settled in Sweden and she claimed Swedish citizenship in 1952. However, after her Mother’s death, Sachs suffered several nervous breakdowns characterised by hallucinations, paranoia, and delusions of persecution by Nazis. She spent a number of years in a mental institution, where she continued writing, even while she was hospitalised. Eventually, Sachs recovered sufficiently enough to live on her own, although her mental health would always be fragile. Her worst breakdown was ostensibly triggered when she heard German speech during a trip to Switzerland to accept a literary prize. However, she maintained a forgiving attitude toward a younger generation of Germans, and corresponded with many German-speaking writers of the post-war period. Her experiences resulting from the rise of the Nazis in World War II Europe had transformed her into a poignant spokesperson for the grief and yearnings of her fellow Jews.
“World, they have taken the small children like butterflies and thrown them, beating their wings, into the fire–”
Nelly won a Nobel Prize Award for Literature in 1966, and died on the 12th May, 1970.
‘Over the years I’ve come to accept that sometimes bad things just happen, and all we can do is just keep on going, even though it hurts – just keep on going, through the storm, through the darkness and uncertainty, until one day, we reach the light again.’
– Mrs. Roberts, The Book Man of New Orleans – Out Soon.
I’m glad to announce that my new short story ‘The Book Man of New Orleans’ will be published and available to read on Hallows Eve this month – that’s the 30th October (GMT). I’ve been working earnestly to complete this story and I can’t wait for you all to read it. Stay updated for more information…
The sky really does turn violet; the sunsets really can be blood red, and the cicadas really do sing. I’ve described it many times in my books. But as you walk through the streets, you can be oppressed by so much that is worn at the edges and broken. But that is also the beauty of it.” – Anne Rice
Out this October – Stay updated for more information.
Trust the pen.
Trust the words.
You are capable.
You are extraordinary.
Dear my wonderful fellow readers and writers,
I have a message for you all… S.T.A.Y! In this age of modernity and disaster, mental illness seems more prominent than ever, and not just seems… it is. Life in the 21st century is more than strenuous, in fact, it’s near impossible! We are living in an age of corruption and instability. Therefore, I for one completely understand if sometimes, you just want to stop the world and get off.
Let’s just forget about age, gender, sexuality, ethnicity, religion, whether you have mental illness or not, the past, and all of that, just for a moment. Differences aside, we are all human, and we all have one thing in common; Pain. We’ve all felt it, in one way or another, whether that pain resides in the mind or body, we all experience it. It’s part of being alive. Pain is an ever-present aspect of life. It’s present in birth, life, and in death. However, in life, you’ll often find that the most beautiful of things derive from the most unimaginable pains.
Look at the creation of our very planet. The world literally tore itself apart, and practically blew itself up to create the beauty that we now call planet Earth. Look at the creation of life. Two people came together to create you, to create all of us. A mother endured great suffering to give birth to you; an extraordinary, breathing, living soul, with the ability to change the world.
Pain is alchemy, when you think about it; a catalyst – to the extraordinary.
So if you do just want to stop the world and get off, then I have a message for you. Stay – Please. Yeah, you. You – reading this right now. I know that life can be unbearable some days, perhaps even every day. Maybe it always has been. Everything’s simply just too much sometimes; I understand that. The thoughts, the feelings, the ruthlessness of life. But hell, are you all strong – to still be here. Still breathing. Still hoping. Still living. You’re f**king amazing, and you know what? Everything’s going to be okay. Perhaps not always – unfortunate things will always happen; it’s the hapless way of life. Things will always get difficult to bear sometimes, but they will get better again. They always do, and that’s a promise.
So Stay – Please. Not for me – not for this crazy, old English writer, but for everyone who cares about you. For your present or future partner, but most importantly of all…
For you, because you’re worthy, and you’re beautiful, but most of all, you’re extraordinary.
Do the world a favour, and chase your God damn dreams.
Wishing you all the best,
Oftentimes I feel that no amount of words, no matter how eloquent or sincere, could ever describe the incomprehensible magic and wonder that occurs in the mind of a writer. We have entire worlds inside of our heads. Entire people – and not only do we live with the minds of our own, we live with the minds of our characters; the people that we create. There’s always so much going on inside of our heads. It’s no wonder that we struggle to get it down onto paper every now and then. Nevertheless, persevere, because although we may doubt ourselves, what’s meant to be written will be written. Trust the pen. Trust the art of imagination.
Remember, the world is waiting for you – for your work.
Best wishes to you all,
by S.E. White We’re almost halfway through the year, so now is the appropriate time to hear about some of the methods authors use to unwind. A little self-care, a little stopping to smell the roses, and your writing productivity will thank you. These are all tried and tested ways that writers relax. […]