Guest blog: Hanson was My Suicide Note - Jan Childers

***As many Saturdays as possible, you'll see posts from people regarding their own experiences with their mental health. Use #BreaktheStigma on Twitter to share yours***

***Trigger warning: suicidal thoughts*

                It took roughly twenty years and four months after hearing “Mmmbop” for the first time before I got to see Hanson live for the first time. I had been among the millions of rabid fans as a teenager, but while my love had softened as an adult, it had never waned. Circumstances had continually kept me from seeing them, and this time was no different. Tickets sold out in a stunning four hours after going on sale. I’d given up hope of ever seeing them, or at least seeing them in the next several years. Yet fate smiled upon me, and I managed to obtain a single ticket mere days before the show. A very long drive, a wait in line just as long as my drive, and a small stampede later, I was four rows away from the stage.

                The show itself was everything I’d imagined it to be. It was a beautiful mix of both old and new, from the earliest days to the latest album. I teared up several times, but one song hit me much harder than anticipated. “With You in Your Dreams” was a hit from the day it was released with its mix of both childishly tender, yet shockingly powerful lyrics about death. I hadn’t listened to it in two years, whether by active or subconscious choice, I cannot say. By the opening line, tears were rolling down my face.

If I'm gone when you wake up
Please, don't cry
And if I'm gone when you wake up
It's not goodbye

                I was no longer visiting the carefree days of fourteen. Now I was sixteen, alone in the darkness of some godforsaken hour. I huddled beside my CD player, sobbing as quietly as I could into a pillow as I tried to find any shred of courage I might possess. I knew where my father kept his gun. It was in his bottom desk drawer, unlocked and always loaded. Everyone was asleep, so I wouldn’t get caught being awake and outside of my room. I could slip upstairs and back again, quiet as a mouse. All of my pain would be over in a matter of minutes. I just needed to find the courage to stand up and walk out of my bedroom.

                Through my tears, Taylor continued singing:

Don't look back at this time as a time
Of heartbreak and distress
Remember me, remember me
'Cause I'll be with you in your dreams

                Visions of my brothers danced in my head. They were so young then, too young to remember the pain of death several years before, but old enough to feel the pain that comes in the aftermath of death. They had not truly experienced loss yet. They would mourn me.

 But If I'm gone when you wake up
Please, don't cry
And if I'm gone when you wake up
Don't ask why
Don't look back at this time
As a time of heartbreak and distress
Remember me, remember me
'Cause I'll be with you in your dreams

I wondered if they would understand why I did it. I wondered if they were old enough to realize how many aspects of our lives were cruel and inhumane. Did they remember life from before? Would they understand I wasn’t strong enough to continue? I wanted to be there for them, but it was too much. I kept the song on repeat, losing myself in the lyrics. It was a beautiful memento to leave behind for them. Maybe if they listened to it, they would know I would always be with them. I wasn’t abandoning them. I would always watch over them from beyond.

Don't cry, I'm with you
Don't cry, I'm by your side
Don't cry, I'm with you
Don't cry, I'm by your side

                My reverie was interrupted at the concert. My tears had evolved into body-shaking sobs. All at once, every dark night I had ever had emerged at the forefront of my memory. I was sixteen, too afraid to get my father’s gun. I was nineteen, but I didn’t have enough pills to finish the job. I was twenty, too afraid to take the leap off the mountainside. I was twenty-two, my hands shaking too hard to put the belt around my neck. I was thirty, deciding which barrier I could crash into at high speeds. I was thirty-two, staring at the box that held my husband’s gun, knowing this time, I wouldn’t be too afraid... if only I would decide to open it.

And though my flesh is gone
I'll still be with you at all times
And although my body's gone
I'll be there to comfort you at all times

The girl beside me placed a hand on my shoulder. Her face was gentle and concerned. I couldn’t hear her voice, but the movements of her lips were unmistakable. “Are you okay?”

I don't want you to cry and weep
I want you to go on living your life
I'm not sleeping an endless sleep
'Cause in your heart
You have all of our good times
Oh, all of our good times

I had no words of my own. In spite of the many times I wanted to die, I was alive. I had lived through all the times I thought I couldn’t survive. I lived through my darkest days. I was alive. Whether it was through strength or cowardice, it didn’t matter. From that night in my room until the day I stood alongside this stranger, I had lived. I survived my worst enemy. I survived my own self-destruct button. I couldn’t find the words to tell this kind stranger just how much this moment meant to me. Even if I could, there was no guarantee she would understand, let alone appreciate this incredible occasion. I was alive!

And if I'm gone when you wake up
Don't ask why
Don't look back at this time
As a time of heartbreak and distress
Remember me, remember me
'Cause I'll be with you in your dreams

                There will always be dark nights in my life. I hope I will continue to have the strength to fight my way through them. I hope that during those nights, I will look back and remember how for one night, being alive was a moment to be celebrated. I want to remember how for one night, I wept not in despair of life, but with the indescribable happiness that I lived.

Guest Post: Kathleen Ann Gallagher's New Release and a Contest!

Today, I'm extremely excited to have my new friend, and Decadent Publishing sister, Kathleen Ann Gallagher on the blog! It's all yours!

Hi Cate!

I’m happy to have a chance to visit your blog today.  I have a news flash! My contemporary romance, A Summer’s Journey is released by Rebel Ink Press TODAY!

Spring and summer are my favorite seasons. Maybe one of the reasons is because my birthday is in June. This time of year,  I look forward to my weekend’s home. It’s great to spend a lazy afternoon with my husband. He spends Sundays in our yard working on his creation. We don’t have any grass to mow. Instead, our yard is filled with winding paths, shrubs, rose bushes, perennials, and fountains. It’s really a magical place. I look forward to lounging in a comfy chair with a cup of tea while I try to come up with my next story.  If I’m not on the beach, you’ll find me in my beautiful sanctuary. Thanks to my hubby for creating it for me. Now, that’s romantic.

BLURB

Savannah Mason fought for independence since she was a young girl, smothered by a controlling father who insisted she take over his medical practice one day. Now, at the age of thirty, alienated from her father, the career minded journalist spends long hours at her job, hoping to take the spot as anchor.

On her darkest day twelve years ago, Savannah agreed to give her child up for adoption. She never even had the chance to hold her. On her daughter’s birthday, a chance encounter gives Savannah an opportunity to explore a corner of her heart she thought was lost forever.

The last thing Savannah wants is a relationship, especially one with a doctor who happens to have two young children.

Rob Sinclair, a cardiothoracic surgeon and NY Times best-selling author, needs a promo spot on the television show The News Stop. When Savannah gets the interview over a senior reporter, a door opens to her future. However, first she must face the sorrow of her past and cast away the agony of guilt before she’s free to accept love.

Rob’s commitment to climb the ladder of success and provide a good life for his two small children keeps him on the road. He’s determined to push forward despite the heartache of a broken marriage. His deepest fear is being an absent parent. When he meets Savannah Mason, desire and passion awaken his broken spirit. Will he ever be able to trust another woman?

Savannah and Rob’s strong attraction to one another is undeniable as they follow the path to a place where honesty, love and forgiveness, can bring them both home.

When a man who seems totally wrong for Savannah slowly weaves his way into her heart, will he accept her when he learns about her past?

Savannah and Rob’s attraction to one another is undeniable. As they follow the path to a place where honesty and forgiveness can bring them both home, will it be enough to heal the scars of the past and allow them another chance at love? 


EXCERPT

Savannah stood and slowly moved toward him. Her chest tightened with each step. As she approached him and admired his broad shoulders, it dawned on her he could be a candidate for People’s sexiest man alive. Control yourself.   

“I’m happy here.”  Savannah admitted. “I love it when the morning light shines on the water and it mimics fine pieces of crystal.”

 Rob slowly approached her. The look in his eyes told her he had more than the view on his mind. Savannah turned away, afraid of what might happen next. Before she could stop him, they were too close for comfort. An electric energy surged between them. With one swift movement, Rob reached for her and gently placed his lips on hers. He cradled her head in his hands as if she was a precious jewel. The warmth of his touch sent shivers down her spine and the world stood still. When Rob’s hands moved slowly across her back, her body went limp and it took her to a level of arousal she never expected. It all happened so quickly, she didn’t have time to react. She found herself spellbound by the feel of his rock hard body pressed up against her chest. All of the emotions she’d kept inside emerged when Rob held her tight. When they finally parted, Savannah stood frozen in shock with her heart pounding and her ears ringing.

Rob’s expression made him look as if he broke the law. He quickly took a step back. “I don’t know what to say. I’m so sorry for my rude behavior.”

 “You weren’t rude. I didn’t stop you.”

 “I don’t know what got into me. You’re an amazing woman and I find you terribly attractive.” He stared deep into her eyes.  

“Thank you.” Savannah looked down, still shocked, but flattered.   

“I’d like to take you on a real date. Would that be possible? Is it against your ethics to date someone you’re working with?”

“There’s no rule against dating a guest on the show. I make my own rules.” Savannah could not believe her own words.

“That’s what I like about you. You’re not afraid of taking a risk. I could tell from the moment I met you, you were a strong, independent woman.”

 Unanswered questions twirled around in Savannah’s mind. What am I doing making a date with a doctor and one with a family, no less. I must be crazy. Her mind told her to run from a relationship with a client, however, her body told her something completely different.

To get you in the mood for summer I’m giving away one Summer Wish scented, small jar Yankee Candle, and some swag. Tell me your favorite thing to do on a summer weekend and don’t forget to leave your email address in the comment.

Good Luck!

For more chances. Here’s where you can find me. I love to make new friends.

My blog. http://kathleensplacetoreflect.blogspot.com/?zx=e896f573de6ed38c

Facebook https://www.facebook.com/kathleen.a.gallagher?ref=tn_tnmn

Twitter https://twitter.com/Kathleenwrites

My website. http://www.kathleenanngallagher.net/

A Summer's Journey is available at:

All Romance E-Books



About Kathleen:

Although writing is my passion, nursing is my vocation. I work in an emergency room, and it’s been challenging, and rewarding, to be such an integral part of so many others' daily struggles. I have a wonderful husband who always offers his support, and never complains about my crazy schedule. One of our favorite romantic getaways is Cape May, New Jersey, an old historic beach town where we take a step into the past, and enjoy life’s simple pleasures. Although my children are all grown with busy lives of their own, Chaz, our Shepherd mix, still dutifully stands guard at the house. We are also blessed with three adorable grandsons.

Other interests of mine include cooking, reading, and the theater. However, spending time with my family is most important to me. Even though my life is filled with work, family, etc., my mind continues to ponder the next story or concept for a new novel.

 

Playing at Literary Lagniappe + Giveaway!

Hey guys! I'm hanging out with Lisa and Emily at Literary Lagniappe today, talking about what inspired my short story "Lured" for the Nocturnal Embers anthology. You won't get this behind-the-scenes peek anywhere else!

Also, I'm giving away a digital copy (format of your choice) to one lucky commenter!

Remember, Nocturnal Embers is available at:

Amazon

Barnes & Noble

Smashreads

Guest post: Buried Treasure by Xakara

I am INCREDIBLY excited to have Xakara on my blog today! We met through the awesomely fun Six Sentence Sunday and have been enjoying each other's virtual company ever since. Take it away, Xakara!!!

Greetings, Kittens!

Lex and I were kicking back a few weeks ago and starting talking about the writing process. I know, I know, what is possibly left to say about it? Definitively? Nothing. Utterly subjective? Everything and more.

I have yet to follow any particular path or rule when it comes to writing, so the ones that others ignore, break or reinvent always intrigue. When writers meet each other, the inevitable question is, panster or plotter, and if you’re really getting into it, quilter becomes an option. For those not familiar with the writer’s lexicon, do you write by the seat of your pants, plot and outline everything to come, or work on scenes as they come to you and patch them together like squares of quilt? I don’t do any one of these, but I do some combination of all them at different points.

I don’t plot, won’t plot, likely can’t plot and never shall plot—amen! On paper anyway. Scenes work themselves out in my head as I go along and often there’s a particular point/scene/moment that I’m working towards, but I never outline or commit myself to elements of a story before I get to them. I tried that once and the story nearly self-destructed. Never again my friends, never again. That said, I never go into a scene without a clue, either. Sometimes it’s a nebulous clue, a snatch of dialogue or a visual calling my name, but it’s always something that pulls me there. I work out the rest as I go.

I don’t always get everything for a story in order. I deeply loathe those times, but I’ve had my fair share of piecing things together. Of course that doesn’t mean that I knew exactly where those scenes were going when I wrote them, any more than I knew what happened between them. I simply recognized that they happened eventually and that I might as well get them down and figure out the rest later. To cover the spread, I came up with the term patchwork panster, but there’s a little more to it in my mindset.

While talking with Lex, I revealed that feel like an archeologist when I write. I dig down, layer by layer, and find the precious bits beneath the surface. This is sometimes called the nugget approach, but when you pan for gold, you throw away a great deal as garbage. When you work at a dig site, even the dirt is valuable and tells you more about the treasures you’ve discovered. It’s a very different perspective.

I have documents filled with excerpts. Excerpts from what exactly, I couldn’t tell you, but they came to mind while working on projects where they didn’t quite fit. With the archeology approach, each sample is labeled, catalogued and stored for future use. When the time comes they are cleaned and teased into revealing their larger shape, until in the end, an entire manuscript is left behind, all shiny and new.

Every new story is a new site that reveals a new era of creative evolution. I’m excited to find what comes next because I honestly never know what’s beneath the living, breathing soil, waiting to be discovered. There’s this magical moment when I get to be both a reader and an author, watching it all unfold with each new page, knowing where I want it to go, but never quite sure it’ll get there.

It must sound odd to non-writers, but most of us have no clue where a story will end once we begin it. Or the ending is often all we have and we’re left strolling along, trying to figure out how our, (hopefully), beloved characters ended up where they did. We write for the same reason others read, because we want to know what happens next. We want to see where it’s all headed. And just like readers, when the story is good, we want others to come with us, so we publish. Our styles differ, but our ultimate goal of sharing our worlds is the same, no matter if we plot, pants, quilt or dig. We’re all trying to bring you buried treasures.

Thanks for having me, Lex. And thanks for joining us, Kittens.

This Ramble is done!

~Xakara

Thanks again, Xakara! Awesome post!!!

If you'd like more Xakara, check out her Facebook author page, her livejournal, or tweet her! 

Her books are available on Amazon:

Shifting Passions

Ghosts of Christmas Past

Dawn's Early Light

Paperback Writers -- Guest post by Lucienne Diver

Welcome to the first-ever guest post on my blog, by none other than author, agent, and all-around awesome person, Lucienne Diver!!! Thanks, Lucienne, for being here. 

Without further ado...

For some reason, I’ve got The Beatles’ song Paperback Writer stuck in my head.  The line that always cracks me up is, “And I need a job, so I want to be a paperback writer.”  Yeah, because it works just like that.

As all writers know, it’s not just a job, it’s a commitment—or we should be committed…or something like that.  It’s true.  

I joke that I started writing so that I could give the characters in my head other people to talk to so they’d leave me alone.  Sadly, it doesn’t really work like that either.  I get a character like the teen fashionista Gina from my Vampedseries (trying to beautify, not belittle, the world one person at a time), and a short story absolutely doesn’t satisfy her.  She wants a novel, then two.  Before I know it, she’s insisted on at least four…and her own blog.  Oh, and an interim short story between the release of books two and three so that she’s not gone from the fans’ minds and hearts for too terribly long.  (Can you say diva?)

Or take my newest heroine, Tori Karacis, former circus brat, current P.I. from Bad Blood.  It’s not enough to have Tori in my head.  That I could live with.  She’s smart and snarky, and the two of us could definitely hang.  But her family!  OMG.  Her grandmother (living) and grandfather (deceased)  both had steaming piles…er, pearls…of wisdom to impart during Tori’s formative years (which explains a lot).  For some reason, they felt the need to share with the class.  Of course, I decided that if Tori and I had to be warped by their wisdom, so did my readers.  Thus, some of their wit appears as chapter openers sprinkled throughout the book.  If I had all the time in the world, I’d even consider setting up the website that Yiayia (Tori’s grandmother) runs, called Goddities.  It’s essentially a scandal sheet on the Greek gods who—oh yes, my friends—are still running around in modern times, though their diminished worship and power has led to the need for actual (gasp) day jobs.  Talk about a crazy cast of characters!

Add in murder, plots, mayhem and destruction and…well, my head is a very scary place to be.

The fun thing as an author is that you get to welcome other people into the insanity that is your world.

So come, walk a mile in my shoes.  And, uh, sorry about the squelching.  Poseidon isn’t terribly thrilled with me at the moment.

_____________________________________________

For Murder and Mayhem:

Bad Blood, first novel of the Latter-Day Olympians

Available digitally June 2011, print in May 2012

For Fangs and Fun:

Vamped

Revamped

Fangtastic (forthcoming January 2012)

www.luciennediver.com

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