No More

Sunday’s are usually my day to write blogs for the week ahead and catch up on all sorts of stuff. Sometimes I make goals for myself and write about them.  Somehow over the years, I got the idea that if I made them public would hold me more accountable to them and I would get more done.

The opposite has happened.I have gotten less done and been pretty miserable in the process.

Then while I was sitting down and doing my normal Sunday thing, procrastinate, play some silly games, read some articles on-line and do some writing.

I came across this article, 14 Amazing Psychology Facts Everyone Needs to Know, and had an epiphany. Every time, I have made a big deal about a new goal whether it is on this blog or a list of them posted on my wall at home, they haven’t happened. I put pressure on myself and all it did was make me feel like I am a failure.

I am not a failure. I just need to focus and bullying myself is not focusing.

I do have goals.

I have a goal for my next book.

I’m just not telling this time.

What do you think? Tell the wold your goals or keep them to yourself?

Decision Time

The final weeks of the school year are approaching. The seniors have taken their exams and I have lost a week of instruction in my other classes. Exams had to be taken in every class and each exam was one hundred minutes long.  Everything was thrown off. One more week and the seniors will be out the door.

Two weeks after that and my students will be done with school and summer will be approaching. And I need to make decisions on what I am going to be doing for work. I need to work my writing projects, finish the rest of my Kickstarter obligations and rest up for the next school year.

This year was insanely busily. I don’t really want another one. Seriously, I don’t.

But without a master’s degree or a winning lottery, I don’t have a choice. This summer, I can choose to work for four weeks ten hour days and have three days off to relax and recover. Or I  still work  four ten hour days and then only have two days off.

The money would be nice, but I think I have gone about this whole thing wrong. I have had tremendous opportunities that I have wasted because I have always felt the need to work. Work of debt, get ahead and build savings. But some how these things never happen.

Life keep moving forward and I didn’t go along with it.  I tried to wait until everything was perfect.  And it isn’t going to be perfect.  Until you do it and then it will be wondrous.




The Blade…..

I wanted to reach for the blade like I had every night for the last year, but Ronald’s touch stopped me. I couldn’t clasp it with his heart beat pounding so close to me. I wanted to be angry and reach through the ether once again stabbing and slicing Dahila.

From the first moment, I found my hand around the hilt I knew I could strike anyone I wanted.  Anywhere.  So I reached out and sliced her. One thousand and eighty three miles away, she woke up with a panic attack, screaming.  Night after night, just before the darkness dies I would reach out, find it and strike.   It was a stupid and petty thing to do. It was a cruel thing to do, but one that made me smile down to my soul. I could hurt her like she had hurt me. I could make her suffer.

Of course, my crime was intentional and karmic very unhealthy. It was a crime. No delusions or justifications there. One unintentional act that harms another does not merit the damage I caused each time I took up the blade. And yet, I did it again and again.

The knife was a gift from the universe, one of many treasures hidden in the Akashic records. Not everyone can touch it.  Not everyone should touch it. Why I was the recipient of such a blessing, I didn’t know? And I wasn’t questioning it. I liked the blade. Loved the way it moved when I sliced her. It felt good. I woke up happy. Not depressed and full of sorrow.

Then Ronald came to stay and I had a hard time pushing through the ether to touch it. Sometime I would have it in my hand and it would slip away as he moved into cuddle. It is hard to be a revengeful soul when a puppy wants attention.

Ronald, I love you, but tomorrow you are getting a crate.

Take No Prisoners Thursday

My seniors are testing, taking the last tests of their high school careers. They aren’t nervous or worried, they just want their tests to be over with as much as their teachers want Graduation Day to be here. But, three girls aren’t here (I work at all girls school).

Three seniors didn’t show up for their tests today.

Two seniors put their high school graduation in jeopardy for unknown reasons. One may be withdrawn because of other issues.

A couple of hours before all of this began, I was huddled in my bed with the covers over my head. Exam days are generally no fun for teachers. Testing guidelines require that teachers sit and watch the students and do nothing else for the duration of the exam. Testing is very boring business. It is draining on everyone. The students who are anxious to have exams over will soon turn nervous and frantic in the face of a testing booklet.

Today is a “take no prisoners” day. Today is a day that things must get done and will get done. Dressing today, I knew part of what was coming. A meeting with administrators and a parent regarding one of the seniors. Today was the day to break out the one suit coat I own and a pair of heels. I am not an administrator, I don’t even play one on TV, but today I have to look like I am one. Today, I have to have the confidence of one so that others will follow my led and have faith in the decisions I make.

It is a “take no prisoners” day for the seniors. A day when excuses and time have run out. At noon, one of the missing seniors arrived. I didn’t even ask why she was late. It didn’t matter. She has time to take her exams. There is no time to argue over lateness and excused tardies.

In a week, they will be walking down the aisle to the thunderous applauds of friends and family.They will feel like they are on top of the world for hours until they are thrush into reality and adulthood. And realize that there will be many more days like today. Days when they will want to huddle under the covers and forget their responsibilities for just a few more minutes. Days when they will get out of bed and take charge of their life, accepting no excuses and taking no prisoners.

Page A Day Results

There were thirty days in April and I wrote and published something on this blog for twenty-six of them.  It is amazing what a writer or any human being can do when they challenge themselves and make a commitment. But then again, that is the story that we tell ourselves. We tell ourselves what we can and can not do. We place limits on ourselves and those we love.

If I give my students an open ended writing assignment, they automatically give themselves rules and limits.  The biggest one these days is that this or that is too much. It is the limit that I hate the most. If it gets the job done and puts you were you need to go then why is it too much? Why is it bad to work for something? The answer for many of the students is easy to see in their daily lives. They see people working and working and never getting a head, so why work?

That is a dangerous story, but a real one.

11051906_663114840460500_2886341314953390785_nThe big bad story I have told myself I don’t have enough time to write. This month, I took that story apart.

I didn’t make my goal of writing everyday, but most days I did write and it is that habit that I have to continue if I want to be a successful writer. No if ands or buts about it, to be a writer you have to write. To be a successful one you have to continue to write, even when I’m busy or sick.  (Yesterday, I slept most of the day and wrote for a couple of hours in the office before going back to bed.)

I have been afraid to let go of some aspects of my life. The security that I have built for myself in my tiny house. In the three jobs that I hold down and the family and loved ones who support me. In the piles of books that surround me in nearly every room of my house.  In short, I have been afraid of change.

Change is always coming for us.  Always, so it is time to stop huddling under the covers and get going.

If you’d like more information on Lucinda’s work subscribe to this blog, follow her on Twitter or like her page on Facebook.  Her new novella, Blood Child is available on Amazon.


Happy Birthday, Momma!!!


Momma and me.

Today, my Momma turns 69 years old.  Last night, she went to the emergency room with her baby-girl.  It was her anniversary to Papa and she  spent it with me whimpering in pain. A stomach virus took me out and my Momma took care of me once again. It is what Momma’s do. They take care of their kids. It doesn’t stop when they are eighteen or even twenty-one. It is a lifetime commitment.

It hasn’t been a easy one for Momma. No mother’s journey is really easy.  But she was always done her best. She continues to teach me lessons.  So here are a few of the lesson you have taught me over the years.

1) I am worthy of love, we all are worthy of love.

2) Don’t sit down if you want to get things done.

3) Always say thank you.

4) Take a genuine interest in others and listen.

5) Naps are awesome.

6) Just because some is blood doesn’t mean you have to let them hurt you.

7) It is ok to say, No.

8) Know when to step back and let people make their own mistakes.

9) Forgiveness isn’t forgetting

10) Send someone flowers can brighten their day.

11) Kindness does matter.

12) It is okay to cry.

13) Taking time for yourself is necessary

14) Stubbornness is a superpower, use it wisely.

15) Sometimes you just need to play.

16) Making things with your hands is an awesome way to be creative.

17) You don’t have to keep everything someone gives you.

18) Daydreaming is a survival skill.

19)  Books are a necessity in life.

20) Sometimes with family, you love them but you don’t like them.

21) Everyone has issues. Everyone.

22) You never have to grow up, but you do grow older.

23) Dessert for breakfast is acceptable as is having your dessert first.

There are a lot more lessons, but I am still under the weather and need a nap. Thank you, Momma. I love you.


There are clothes tossed about the floor. My clothes, my floor,my bedroom floor. This isn’t the way things should be. This isn’t how I live or how I have been living for the last three years. Things get picked up and put away. Everything in order. My sleeping chamber a place of peace and tranquility. My haven within a haven.

Now everything is scattered about. Trashed. It isn’t so much the clothes. Although they are annoying, more annoying are the shoes. How is it that shoes never make their way back into my closet. They have homes there. Each and everyone of them a place, a home of its own. Still they are constantly wondering about. Just like the clothes now adorning the floor.

But I just can’t think with the smell you create. It makes me want to flee every time I come home.Into the room, I dash as soon as I get home spaying air freshener and get out of my work clothes. Then I drag  myself back out to the shed and get the machete.

Everyday, I chopped another bit of you off.  It has been quite difficult to dismantle you this way. I’ve had to boil some of you and break the bigger parts down with a hammer. Most days I am so tired afterwards, I barely have time to scrap you out from under my nails before bed. But rest assured, you won’t be a bother for much longer another couple weeks and I will have my room back and you will be returned to the earth. One doggie bag at a time.


blinded by smoke

scored by the heat

nothing but the most bitter fruit

left to eat

nothing left but to fight

to fight

to die

and maybe then be heard

or be seen on CNN

and misunderstood

still better than

do nothin’

being the big man’s punk

and doing my time

in the oligarch’s machine

better to go out

with a stone in my hand

than dying in an attempt to live

the promised life


Sometimes I….

Sometimes I write bad poetry and sometimes I write stories that don’t make sense.

Sometimes I just write and write for hours in my head. Lately, I have been working really hard to set a schedule up for myself and it hasn’t been working really well.  I did good up until last Thursday and then I fell off the writing wagon last Thursday and didn’t get back to it until today. Writers must write and they have to write things that sometimes scare them and push the boundaries. Something that I haven’t done a lot of in my own writing. I have tried to stick to safe topics so as not to offend people especially the people I love.

I have tried to be a pillar of strength, but really feel most days like I am falling apart and the duct tape isn’t sticking anymore.  This past weekend, I looked back after a phone call from Momma and my sister, Tish, that I realized that my strength doesn’t come from being strong, but each and every time I got myself back up and kept going.

So I am back at it, but with a difference. I am going to write the stories I see around me. The ones that have been pleading with me to finish them. The ones that scare me.  I will be finishing my April Page A Day posts and then going back to work on next book along with other projects. I want to have it finished by the end of summer and begin the editing process.  There are two or three more books, I have notes for but I am going to focus on the one that began this journey.


Fighting for Jess

Over the weekend,  Jessica, a writer and teacher, went to social media to ask for help. She is starting her battle with cancer.  At 32 years of age, she is about to battle for her life and she is facing it with the dignity and grace of both a lady and a warrior.

Treatment is expected to last six months during which Jessica will under going chemo and radiation for Hodgkin’s Lymphoma Nodular Sclerosing Stage 2a – cancerous cells in lymph nodes throughout chest and neck.  Even with her diagnosis, Jessica says that she is lucky because Lymphoma is one of the most treatable cancers.  Life, however, doesn’t stop because she has cancer. There is no cancer time out for Jessica’s bills. She is asking for help covering the medical bills as they come in and to help pay for other cancer related expenses.

Jessica is an amazing woman and writer.  Any help you could provide, even if it just boosting the signal, it would be greatly appreciated.