Book+Main Bites, anyone?

So, have you heard of this new site called Book+Main Bites? It’s a new website for romance readers and authors, and guess who’s on there.

Yeah, me.

I’ll be honest. I haven’t the foggiest clue what the hell I’m doing on there at this point, but I’ve posted a few things, and it’s okay so far. I mean, not like I need another social media account to keep up on, but hey, it’s out there.

So, if you’d like to give me a follow, then click on the link below. I might have even posted the first part in a new mini Holly Freakin’ Hughes story.

Dear Lucy

Hey Lulu,

So, it’s been two years. Just thinking about the time breaks my heart a little. Okay, let’s be real – it breaks my heart a lot. I mean, two years ago today, it was hard to imagine time continuing at all, let alone two years worth of it, but… Here we are.

But you know, the funny thing about time is that, it really doesn’t make some things easier. It doesn’t make some things hurt any less. Time doesn’t behave as a permanent solution; stitches to the wound. No… Time is nothing more than one of those shitty fabric Band-aids that refuses to stay on in the shower. The little fuckers keep falling off, and I just keep buying more. Maybe one day I’ll remember to pick up the waterproof kind, or maybe I like that it still hurts – some days, a little; other days, a lot. Maybe I like that I always have that nagging reminder of what, who I lost.

My four-legged soulmate.

My Lucy Tucy.

I still remember that day like it was yesterday.

Wait, no, I remember everything leading up to that day. The day I got you. The days you slept in a laundry basket because you were too small to be left on your own. The days you’d get hyper as fuck because I was listening to Hanson. The day you managed to get into the crawlspace. The days I didn’t put you first, and the days I spent regretting it. The days you were there when nobody else was. The days we’d dance together, and the days we’d do nothing but play WoW. The days I was sick and you were there, the days I felt great and you were there, and the days when I couldn’t get myself out of my own head…and you were there.

The day you weren’t yourself.
The day I lived with you in the bathroom, singing to you and telling you the story of us.
And then, the day we said goodbye, and those blessed few moments when I first woke up, and I almost believed everything was okay.

God, Lu, that first year was hell. You don’t even know, or hey, maybe you do, but I’m telling you anyway. It was horrible, that first year. I questioned everything. I drove myself insane. All those miserable nights, all those fake-smile days. Thank God for Keegan, right? Thank God for Ethel, right? Thank God for everything that managed to keep me afloat, right?

This past year was a little different. This past year was a little more about living, wasn’t it? I mean, a lot has changed. Karen had another baby, Ethel’s become a really good friend, and I am obscenely obsessed with Outlander. And that book I was always writing? It’s done, it’s out. That other book? That draft is done, it’s ready to be finished. All those short stories I was writing? They’re on their way. I’m living one of those dreams I always wished you’d be there for, but… I guess you still are. I just wish I could feel you at night.

Anyway, my baby butt, I just wanted to say hi. I wanted to let you know that this day still sucks, will always suck, and I’m thinking about you. I’m always thinking about you. I hope I never stop hearing you, seeing you out of the corner of my eye, and I hope I never stop slipping your name into songs.

I’ll see you later, Lucy. I miss you.

I love you.

You will rest your head, your strength once saving.
And when you wake you will fly away,
holding tight to the legs of all your angels.
Goodbye my love, into your blue, blue eyes,
in your blue, blue world, you and me forever.

-Dave Matthews Band, “Baby Blue”

Usable Songs

Yesterday, I saw John Mayer for the second time this year. Not sure if it’s caught on yet, but I am a massive fan of music, in particular live music. There is nothing that makes me feel more alive than live music. Absolutely nothing.

So, John Mayer is one of my absolute favorites. The guy is, in my opinion, a lyrical and musical genius. The guy writes these songs that force me to play them over and over again, listening intently until a story has been born in my head and I have to write it down. The guy is, for lack of a better word, a muse in my life, brought to me in the form of his songs.

If you haven’t read ENOUGH, then let me tell you right now, it was inspired by his song “Edge of Desire.” It was the first bit of writing that I publicly released, putting it out there despite the fear and self-doubt. It will always hold a special place in my heart, and so will John Mayer for writing the song that made it happen.

Anyway, the first time I had seen Mr. Mayer this year, I had been harassing him for months beforehand, asking him to play “Edge of Desire.” I needed to hear this song live, it having such special meaning to me and all. But as luck would have it, he didn’t play it.

That was fine, though, because shortly after, I bought tickets for another of his shows. This time, I harassed him for months, asking for a completely different song, which he also didn’t play. And you know what? Maybe I should just stop harassing the guy, because he obviously has some issues listening to requests, but that’s not what this post is about. This post is about something else. This post is those “simply meant to be” moments, those “this was no coincidence” moments in life that make you think, “Holy crap,” and make you want to cry.
Continue reading “Usable Songs”

Another Piece to the Puzzle

I’m desperate to take a break from the final stages of editing, so here I go, writing a short-but-sweet entry.

Today, June 12th, marks my first official day as a Goodreads Author. Author. Author. 

Holy freakin’ Hell, there is something so deliciously official about that, isn’t there? I mean, look, I know that anybody can be a Goodreads Author if they’ve written anything that’s been published, self- or otherwise. But damn, that’s my profile with that icon attached to it. Mine! And soon, I’ll have a book to attach to it.

You can check out my Goodreads profile at the link below. No pressure or anything. I’m just pretty psyched.

Thanks For The Memories

So, I thought I’d share a little something with y’all.

When I was twelve, a lifetime ago, I was a huge Hanson fan. Like, HUGE. My room was quite literally wallpapered in their posters. My art projects in school were focused entirely around their blonde heads. My thoughts and dreams were encompassed by Isaac, Taylor, and Zac, as though I needed them to survive through those torturous years of hormonal hell.

I guess, in some ways, they did.

Anyway, I was told by, uh, pretty much everybody that it would fade. My love for them. That obsession. They said it would all disappear when I “grew up.” And, well, I guess in some ways, it did. My room is no longer wallpapered. My projects no longer possess any inkling that I ever dreamed of being married to any of them. My thoughts are no longer consumed by their blonde heads.

Like, at all. They’re not even blonde anymore, for crying out loud.

So, I guess they were right.

Yet… They, those “grown-up naysayers,” were also wrong. My love for them is still strong. I still flail my arms around when I hear a new song from them, and my heart still sings when I hear an oldie-but-a-goody. It never really stopped, not even when I ringed my eyes with the blackest of black eyeliners and my pants had chains hanging from them. Not even when the majority of my CD collection consisted of bands that screamed more than they sang.

I sort of look at it as though we all grew up together, you know? I sort of see them as these friends that I’ve never met face-to-face, but we’ve still attended parties together. Concerts. Stayed up for hours, swinging on a swing set and talking until the sun came up. Vacations. We’ve shared all of these things together, whether they know it or not, because they were always there, playing through a set of speakers or a pair of headphones, singing the soundtrack of my life.

Throughout every chapter, every twist and turn, they’ve been there, and this one is no different. As I turn the page to what I hope will be a very fulfilling career in the only thing that has ever made any sense to me, this song has been played on repeat. It is speaking to me in a way that could only make sense for this moment, this time in my life, and I will remember that forever.

So, to my homeboys who have never known my name or my face, thanks. You know, for not being a phase.


Wash Away The Rain

As someone who finds pieces of their soul in the lyrics and melody of songs, I am often slammed with the obsessive need to listen to a song over and over again until I memorize every inflection, every riff, every breath. Every piece that makes that song what it is until it becomes a part of me. Then I move on to the next, because on every playlist, there is always a next.

But the thing about these “obsession songs” is that, like I said, they become a part of me, and so that love never dies, even after I’m twenty songs down the list.

This song is one of those. This song brought me comfort on many anxiety stricken nights in my late teens and early twenties when all I could do was listen to music to keep myself from fallen into a full-fledged panic. This song played on the radio through memories I cherish, and memories I once wished to forget. This song inspired poems, journal entries, and my fleeting crush on Chris Cornell’s eyes and arms. This song…

These singers, they give me something when they inadvertently give me these songs, and in turn, I give them a piece of me. I give them my loyalty, my time, my affection. I give them a piece of my heart, no matter how big or small. It doesn’t matter; a piece is a piece.

I learned with the passing of Scott Weiland in 2015 that when they die, they take that piece with them.

The hole is pretty big with this one.

So, here it is.

It’s 5am. I really should be sleeping, especially considering I am chugging along on about 4 hours of sleep (went to sleep at 9am and woke up at 1pm — WOOHOO), but I wanted to throw something out there on this new blog of mine. Just to have an official first post at the time of it’s creation. A sort of christening, if you will.

Hopefully there will be a lot of exciting things to come on here. Fingers, toes, arms, legs, and everything else crossed.