Friday, July 1, 2011

Miss Grand Rapids Blog Questions


 I haven't written in this blog in some time, and the wheels in my mind are in constant motion trying to decide how to make the most out of my online presence with my art, writing, ideas and thoughts.  
A dear friend and talented writer--Claudia Moss--invited me to read her book and ask her a few questions about her book If You Love Me, Come.  I think this blog is an appropriate spot to share this, and I hope it will encourage you to read her book-and perhaps choose it for a book club, because it is worthy of discussion.
She has dubbed me Miss Grand Rapids, and here are her answers to my questions:

1.     How did you research your characters? Do they have parallel lives with anyone in your life? Miz Too-Sweet is my favorite, because you have her Southern Ebonics down! Her voice makes the novel come to life.

Thank you, Colette!  I love Miz Too-Sweet, also.  She is the glue that binds the other characters together in a web of love, and, ironically, she is in the projects, Techwood Projects, not in the suburbs as are Frenonia Roberts and her sister Rhonda Butler.  Miz Too-Sweet’s wise voice is that of my grandmothers: Pearlie Mae Young and Sophie Mae Moss.  Every summer, as a girl living in Waterbury, Connecticut, I traveled to the South with my family to enjoy a week or more with my grandparents.  I loved the other world nature of their accents, the Southern vernacular, their sayings, their customs and traditions.  And I adore Miz Too-Sweet’s gift to understand the Omniscient voice of the wind.

The novel is a frame story, with Miz Too-Sweet’s voice beginning and ending the tale.  In the Southern tradition, storytelling is a sacred pastime, allowing for a special bonding between family members.  It separated the storytellers from the audience.  You were honored in an unspoken way, if you could captivate your listener for hours on the power of your creative vibe, elocution and choice of words and sounds!

No, I didn’t have to research the characters in If You Love Me, Come.  They sprang from the creative space within, from a Stillness, from my fertile memory, and in a few instances from actual people I have known.

As for parallel lives, in the novel Pastoria (my maternal grandfather’s mother’s name) passes her baby to its father and asks that they go their separate ways, same as did one of my sister’s friends.  I couldn’t stop thinking about how such a thing impacts the mother, the child, the father and the person nurturing the baby.  Considering I was a young mother who prayed long and hard to conceive, I was in awe, witnessing such a mother/child experience.  Bittersweet, it was a perfume I couldn’t wash away!


2.     You definitely understand, and communicate so well, how many women feel on so many levels through your characters. Do you think this is a novel about our female, human condition?

Thank you, again!  Yes, ma’am, this is a novel about the female and how her world evolves with and without certain experiences, how she can change her circumstances by changing her mind, how other women living their lives can empower those who aren’t living theirs to the fullest and how they must stare fear in the eyes in order to live life more richly.  Writing this, I can almost hear Helen Reddy belting out the unforgettable line: “I’m Every Woman; she’s all in me.”

I think the story speaks to the female condition globally.  No matter what language we speak or where we were born or whatever our customs, we are yet the glue of society, reminding me that a society can be no greater than how it treats its women.

3.     The class differences are prevalent throughout your story. How does this come to shape our perceptions of not only your characters, but of our own attitudes toward those who fall into a different class from whom we are unaccustomed to having contact? In other words, what would you like the reader to take away from this as a lesson, or awakening, about class differences?

A sumptuous question this is, Colette!  Love it!  I want readers to walk away from the story with a different perspective on class.  I want them to question their preconceived notions of others from a class different from themselves, realizing that class is a society-imposed barrier that signifies your household income is different from another’s, and as such, your experiences are different.  You may have been able to travel to Greece, where as others may have had to settle for reading about Greece.  I want readers to be thankful for their experiences, whatever they were or are, and be open and willing to embrace people for who they are, not for the wealth they or their families might possess.

We are one.  And as souls cloaked in the human experience, I think we should defy the strictures of tradition whenever we can, and walk out on the waves of sisterhood and brotherhood to unwrap the gifts of our Present Moments.

4.     How important is it to you for the reader to have an understanding of the lesbian romance within the story? It almost seems to be a secondary story within the story of class and family struggles, but I could be wrong. Am I?

That is a pivotal question to understanding more about the story and the author.  As a lesbian, I think it’s very important to have readers encounter lesbians in the midst of a story about family and class struggles.  I want lesbians to be as ordinary as heterosexuals between the pages of a novel or in a social setting or at our family dinner tables.  No one in society is meant to be invisible, and if society and that group persist on invisibility for some, as in “Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell,” then that will constitute the longer it will take for society at large to accept that lesbians and gays are souls having a human experience as well.  The world is an immense flower garden, and how much beauty would it miss if all of us were tulips?

Slowly, physically, I was creaking open the closet door when I began writing If You Love Me, Come.  In a magical way, I loved myself out of obscurity by coming out, to a certain extent, in the pages of my story, and thereby, my lesbian romance appears as a secondary plot, but for me, at the time, it was major.  Perhaps that is why I claimed myself wholly, as a lesbian, later, in the throes of my erotica published in several anthologies.





5. In what context are the male character references important to this story? Miz Too-Sweet says, "Then outside of his chile support, he died to me that day, and I been heedful of how a lap sits ever since." I love the wisdom that spews out of her! I just want to know what your intent as the author is concerning men. Is there a message that we can be strong without them?

I absolutely love your questions, Lady Poet.  My sole intent with the male characters that people the story is to show that, like the women, we are the result of the choices that we make on this journey called life.  Some of the male characters make choices that devalue and degrade their female counterparts, as with Miz Too-Sweet and several suitors she’d experienced in her deep-South past.  Yet, conversely, she finds a man she can adore in her present husband, Mr. Will.  She dotes on him.  He is the center of her world.  She makes certain he is fed when she tips out to visit with Pinkey, and she considers Preacher, a mute neighbor, as a part of her extended family in Techwood.

“J.T.,” Junior Thomas, Free’s man, is a dynamic character, changing over the course of the novel.  Raised listening to his grandfather’s dictum about a man being able to control his woman, J.T. bows to being the sort of man who looks admiringly at women dressed in sexy attire, sexy attire he doesn’t want Free to style, and when she calls the matter to his attention, it sparks a string of arguments leading to Free walking away.

Meka Rae, the beautiful model on the novel’s cover, vouchsafed to me that J.T. was her favorite character, because he eventually understood what it meant to love another, to love a woman.  He learns that you cannot change another person; you can only change self.

Thank you for sharing my story with your readers, Colette!  I sincerely appreciate you on many levels.

Tuesday, March 30, 2010

What's the moon trying to tell me?

I've been fascinated with the moon for some time. I remember in Southern Illinois while visiting my parents years ago seeing the moon low in the sky looking enormous! I do mean enormous! I doubt anyone else has ever seen it this big! It was on a dark country road, and it's like it was there just for me! How do I describe how big it looked? Hmmm...for example...if you're looking at it in the sky the moon might look like a volleyball--right? Sometimes it might look bigger than a basketball. On that night in Illinois, it looked like maybe 4-5 of those big balls you use in exercise class put together to form one gigantic ball! WOW! Since then, I notice the moon more than I ever did before. I wrote a wee love story about the sun and the moon. Kind of an unrequited love story; where the sun is the man, the moon is the woman, and the only time they could ever meet was during a solar eclipse.

I've written poems about the moon. I swoon at the moon.

I met up with someone last night to sit by the fireplace at Cottage Bar and discuss my ideas about how I want to photograph him. Prior to leaving to meet him, I text'd him and told him to look at the moon. But, he couldn't see it from his place. It was low and bigger than a basketball, and bright and full. Later, it was higher with it's aura glowing around it. I wondered what it was trying to tell me. I wonder if my aura ever looks like that? At Cottage Bar there was a cool group of older men seated next to us...they broke out into song. Kind of like barbershop quartet style, only there was a dozen or more of them. I almost cried. I smiled so big my cheeks hurt. It's moments like this that make me feel like I'm exactly where I'm supposed to be at this exact time. It's moments like hearing them randomly sing at this little bar restaurant, that I feel so completely alive. "They're gonna be my new friends!" I told the guy I was seated in front of the fireplace with. "They are gonna sing at one of my parties! watch..."

...and so the story goes...this guy is keen on my ideas to photograph him. He's a musician. I knew the first time I saw his fantastic expressions on stage that I wanted to photograph him. It wasn't about his music, or him being in a band (though I think he's got mad talent!), it was about his face and the emotion within it. I found him on myspace (gotta love online networking!) and told him "you have the most spectacular face I've ever seen, and I'm bouncing with ideas of how I'd like to do some portrait photography of you"

...and so the story goes...

Monday, October 12, 2009

I've got so much to say

I haven't written in this blog for a long time. Think I want to start using it more. No one reads it. No one even knows it exists. But it's here, taking up a nanospot in cyberspace.

Mickey Lou is on my lap purring. I feel relatively relaxed. Enjoyed a day of eating and shopping with a friend who I had lost touch with for a while. That's one good thing that came out of the beating I took at the hands of a police officer...it led to her contacting me. :)

Yep, I got my ass beat by a po po. Bastard. I'll write more on this later.

I also now have breast cancer, and am contemplating refusing some of the suggested procedures/treatments. I've just been through too much in my life. Since the diagnosis a couple months ago there have been 2 more deaths in my life...a good friend's mother (who I felt close to) died of a brain tumor. And my sweet cousin Jeff died in a car accident (they believe he had a seizure and went off the road). Then the cop incident. Damn. I just need my life to chill out a bit. I swear I've seen more death than most people twice my age. And isn't one cancer and a couple near death experiences enough for me??? I've already done 2 marathons & 2 century rides for the Leukemia & Lymphoma Society. I don't really feel like doing a walk for breast cancer. Damn.

I just want to travel. See and do interesting things. Meet interesting people. Help people. Help animals & nature. I want to save lives. But good god...how do I continue to keep saving my own? It's exhausting. It ain't easy bein' CG! I wish I had a loved one. Just someone to hold me every day. Do I really need all of this sorrow & solitude to be an artist? a writer? Damn.

Damn.

Damn.

Sunday, March 29, 2009

Attention PLEASE!

WTF. Does anyone pay attention anymore? Does everyone have ADD?

My most recent frustration is with the bitch nurses at a couple of my docs offices who are reluctant to help me with the necessary info I need to supply to my insurance company, so they will continue to pay for my much needed blood pressure med. They don't listen to me, nor do they pass on what I'm requesting to my docs. grrrr

Ok, well, beyond that. I talked to my brother today. He was just hospitalized for a heart problem. It's not that I needed him to listen to me on this occasion, because this was a time for me to listen to him. I did want to offer some suggestions, however, since I've dealt with too many doctors and have taken too many meds in my lifetime. Every single time I talk to him on the phone his wife is right next to him yapping! He carries on more of a conversation with her than with me when on the phone. If I am speaking, she is speaking in the background at the same time. There is no way he can hear both of us--especially since he is a bit hard of hearing! If it was just a one time thing it would be understandable, because this is a stressful event afterall. Such is not the case though, it's every time.

Then there is my sister. Whenever she returns a call of mine she is driving home through the dead zone, where the phone is certain to lose service. Or, she calls late when I'm already sleeping. Today when I called her to talk about my brother, and my frustration over my health care, she was on her cordless landline phone that kept beeping. Her cell doesn't work great in her house, so we inevitably try to talk with her on her beeping battery depleted landline. If she stayed in one spot on her cell, we could have reception, but no. Or, if she used the corded phone it wouldn't beep, but no.

Then there are boys. Boys are dumb. Men are dumber.

Texting is what everyone does now. It's convenient. I'm with it. I've got my QWERTY keypad. Clearly, I don't relish trying to carry on conversations with so many distractions taking place anyhow! But damn...can someone respond to a text? It doesn't have to be immediate, but the courtesy of a response would at least be nice. And as far as communication goes...a dude can tell me what color toenail polish I had on and when, and when he met me, where he's seen me, what I've said and done, and notice the hat on my head....but can't respond to a text? Can't give me the proper attention I need???? WTF

Well, about my BP med. All this stress, and that drug is working. My BP is normal (at least something about me finally is!). So, get it covered already bitches, before I do something to raise yours!

aha!

Monday, January 26, 2009

Midnight in the Garden of Good & Evil

This doesn't have to do with the book or the movie--though both were good!

It has to do with dreamland. Our subconscious waking up memories of people who are dead from our lives. I have dreams of my mother, who passed away a few years ago, and most of these are good because I get to be held by her--even if it's in another realm, I'll take it, it's better than never again feeling her love.

Last night, I was dreaming of my ex-hubby. He's the only one I pine over. With relationships that have followed, I have become Comfortably Numb. Sadly, when I dream of my ex it is often unfulfilling. I often awake feeling depressed. I miss him. In last night's dream, I believe we were on a ship. At one point I know I was in a plane, feeling like I was about to slide off before it lifted off, and I actually wanted to, but didn't want to be hit by it. I think I made it. Oddly, I think my oncologist was the pilot.

I was following my ex to every corner of the ship in my dream, or simply wandering around aimlessly. Sometimes approaching him, sometimes not. We were on the phone, and it was breaking up at times. I was having trouble hearing him, and feeling very frustrated. When I did get to see him, I said "Please, please, give us a chance!" He was so calm, seemingly unmoved by my emotions. I feared I was going to get over emotional, and then he really wouldn't want me. I said, "I was young then, you would really like me today I think. Please. Can we try? I feel confident it would be wonderful."

I couldn't get out of this dream. Just as I can't get away from these feelings in my waking life. Then the bird sound on my cellie went off, signaling I just got a text.

"Can you come into work at 1:00? I'm sick."

"Ok" I text'd back.

Sunday, January 25, 2009

Slow Down People!

I'm terribly sad to hear this weekend of 3 dogs that have been hit and killed by cars.


Last night I spoke with a friend for a few hours who I hadn't spoke to in a few years. He told me about his sister's little dog--that was like her child--that got hit and killed by a car last October. He said that she has serious depression over it. She saw it happen. After my friend moved to NYC, and his parents and brother to Cali, his sister was alone for a while in their old house, and she got the little dog to keep her company. My heart seriously breaks for her. I lost 2 cats earlier this year, and have been witness to too many deaths of loved ones--both animals and people. It does haunt a person. Even if your life goes on, there are events that bring the tragedy to the surface again. It can be debilitating at times. It's a form of post-traumatic stress syndrome I suppose. I can only imagine how devastated she was/is.

For this reason...because I do think about and imagine how it would feel to lose a beloved pet this way, I drive so slowly and carefully on side roads. I am a careful driver overall, but on side roads in particular I am always watching the sides of the road to make sure nothing runs out in front of me. I never want to be going at a speed that I can't brake fast enough to prevent a tragedy. I don't want to hit a bird or a squirrel! People make fun of me when I brake for tiny critters. I find it kind of sick that these same people drive drunk. Don't they get it? If I'm careful enough to avoid a squirrel, then surely I'd be prepared to brake if a child ran into the street from behind a car, or an elderly person stumbled into the road.


SLOW DOWN PEOPLE!


Please, think about not only the animal you could take the life of, but how it will affect the people's lives who loved these animals. Even if it's a wild animal, someone is gonna mourn its loss of life. I saw a deer that got hit by my last apartment in the city (near a park), and the woman kept driving. The deer was left struggling in the road, and drivers continued to speed by well beyond the speed limit. I got out of my car and stood by this deer hoping to prevent it from getting hit a second time. I still have a lot of sorrow wave over me from this experience. Prior to the deer getting hit there, a neighbor's dog was hit and killed. Ducks and geese that would cross the street to get to the pond would also get hit.


Getting back to this weekend...a friend's mother's dog was hit and killed tonight. When I spoke to my dad today he told me that my aunt's sweet dog got hit and killed. I'm sad. Much of the time I wonder why people share these things with me when they know how sensitive I am. It does bring up memories of past heart-breaking moments. Like when I was at a birthday party as a young girl and my friend's dog got hit and killed. Probably every birthday she has she remembers that. It's horrible. While traveling with my parents as a little girl, I remember driving by an adorable little black puppy that was playing in the grass. On our way back down that road it was dead in the street. I saw it full of life, and then still, and it was difficult for my young mind to process. It is still difficult today when it re-enters my thoughts.

I have flashbacks.

I also think of an exotic type bird that would visit with me when we were in France at my mom's cousin's little grocery store. It was the pet of a person who lived across from the store. Across the small road there were cherry trees, and the bird liked to go over there to get berries. I saw it get hit and killed. I was heartbroken. Birds don't or can't always fly out of the way in time for cars! It is such a fallacy to think they will move faster than you in your speeding bullet! It makes me crazy when I watch people speed straight for them as though they will just fly out of the way! They need time to gain speed and adjust direction! The larger the bird, the more time they need. Please, remember this!!!!!

I sadly remember a squirrel that was run over, but still alive, and was pulling itself across the road with his hind legs dragging. I cry now thinking about him. Yes, I cry over a squirrel.

If you made it this far, then you too must care a little. If you need any further encouragement to slow down and be more alert while driving, then watch the movie "Bella".
Spread the word!

Just Call or Text!

Tonight I went over to a friend's house to watch the L Word on Showtime (cuz I don't have cable, and it's a good show for lesbians to bond with). I picked up some munchies, and made brownies after a busy day at work. Work...a couple lousy tippers, and one weird man with a weird child who makes me question whether this is a legitimate father/son relationship, or one more sinister. I'm tired. I'm freezing, freakin' cold! I'm bloated. I really don't want to go back into the arctic, but I told her I was coming over, and that I'd bring snacks.

I drove across town. Down Straight street (can you believe that one?) to hang with a gay girl with straight hair and maybe her girl, her bi-sis, maybe an ex-lover of mine, maybe not. Well, I get to the door and there is her son with a sitter playing video games. "She went to the movies" they said to me. "When'd she leave?" I asked. "Just a few minutes ago. Well, I text'd her to let her know I was on my way. But no courtesy text or call from her to cancel, or tell me to save a trip. bullshit

On the day of the inauguration another lesbian friend was supposed to come over to watch it with me. I even texted her a couple hours prior to confirm (cuz she has dissed me in the past), and she supposedly was on her way, just trying to get out of a parking lot. She no-showed.

Is this a lesbian thing? A woman thing? What???? Why can't someone simply say "I'm not gonna make it" or "I'm gonna cancel". I really don't give a shit. Really, I don't. But, it would be nice to have the luxury of making other plans if I wanted to. Paaleeeeeezze! It just drives me more into seclusion, because I feel like I really can't depend on anyone. Like why ask if someone wants to do something? Why accept their invitation, when these things repeatedly happen? It gets old...

...and so do I.