Tag Archive | love

More (A Poem/Short Story)

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She kept the bouquets
Given in bloom
Before reverence was a ghost
Rancid lilies
On the bedside table
Patronizing her
With their shelf-life devotion

“Never again will I love,” she proclaimed
“Never again will I give,” she explained
“Never again will I chase the chaser”
“Stroke the ego”
“Be led by reins made from frays of detachment”

She told herself
Life was brilliant, easier
When she kept her heart guarded
Though at the point of sale
She didn’t buy
What she was pushing

Yet she existed without living
Thought without reasoning
Reached for tomorrow
Inside ancient history
Plagued by its confines
As the floor met the ceiling
And the walls closed in

She took to sand and sea
Cloud gazing in the dunes
Spongy beds beneath her spine
Bursts of freckles just a sun-kiss away
As she finally came to

Her fractured fairytale
Still pierced her mind
But its jabs were brief
And its frequency was fading

Oh, but she was slow
To usher in…him
A knight without the armor 
Bold and uninvited
Extracting her from that comfy corner
Of complacency

She took his attention
With a side of suspicion
Despite emotions upending
Without permission
Blending then curving
In all directions

Ah, but it felt too good

Too rare
Too risky
Too scary
Too much
Too fast
Too soon

She charted an escape
A path to resistance
Right there for the taking

She clung to it
Bathed in it
Slept in it
Woke to it
Gorged herself on it
And wore it
Like a second skin

But damn
If he wasn’t persistent
And beautiful
And so easy to adore

But surely
Her surrender
To that exquisite ache
Adhering to her frantic pulse
Was merely a prelude
To a greater pain to come?

No
Yes

Predictions were tangled
And often convoluted
So she took a leap of fate
For this joy was worth
Every maybe

When he showed her the stars
She was infinite
When he opened his arms
She fell home
When he pulled her close
Her body remembered
What she told it to forget
Its artful formation
Both courageous and kind

When he held out his heart
She slipped it on for size
Its perfect fit
Impossible to ignore

And when she let out her crazy
He took out his scars
And when she let down her hair
He caught all her fears
And when he kept coming back
She stopped asking why
And when he loved her
She loved him more

 

Copyright © S. A. Healey

 

Image source: pixabay.com

 

 

Why Romance? Why not?

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There are dayslike todaywhen I find myself on the receiving end of…

The look.

It’s the one people lay on me after learning what I do for a livingmore specifically, the fact that I write…

Wait for it…

ROMANCE.

It’s a look that evolves from…

Are you serious?

To…

No, you can’t be serious.

To…

Holy @#%&, you ARE serious.

To…

Oh, how cute. You actually think you’re a REAL writer.

And, to further drive the spike into my already fragile ego, a saccharine-laced response usually piggybacks “the look,” something along the lines of…

“Those books are okay to read if you don’t want to think too much.”

Ouch.

Unfortunately, this perplexing (and rather unwarranted) romance-is-a-subpar-genre attitude is something I’ve been running into for as long as I can remember.

There’s an assumption shared by many that neither effort nor intelligence is required to write romance novels and that their pages contain nothing but embarrassingly sappy drivel. And if you actually read them, then God help you, because you’d better be armed with one mother of a justifiable reasonnamely, your brain needing a sabbatical.

Pffft.

Personally speaking, I can tell you that reading and writing romance has nothing to do with a lack of creative depth or an unhealthy penchant for heaving bosoms and quivering loins.

By the way, 99.999% of romance imprints did away with those terms eons ago.

Fact: Romance consistently wins out as the best-selling literary genre…by a landslide.

Yet, ironically, it comes up the rear in terms of respect and credibility…which, if I’m being frank, kind of steams my clams.

Whether or not people admit it, they’re reading romance and lots of it. So, you know what I say?

Be proud!

When you’re engaged in bookish chit-chat with someone who asks you, “Why romance?” you can fire back with a simple, but effective…

“Why not?”

Then point them in the direction of a book like Pride and Prejudice and I’ll bet they never ask you that question again.

The one thing I love most about voracious romance readers is that they…just…get it. If you’re reading this right now, then chances are, you do too.

And I am so grateful to have you along!

Of course, I’m not suggesting that everyone should go gaga over romance novels, because as we all know, art in its various forms is subjective. What one gets off on the other may yawn over. It’s a matter of personal preference.

Even as a self-proclaimed sucker for all things swoon-worthy, I still enjoy dipping my eyeballs into horror, mystery, suspense, and fantasy.

Stephen King, if you’re reading this, I love you!

(Who am I kidding? There’s no chance in hell he’s reading this.)

What I’m saying is that romance deserves equal inclusion as a legitimized, stigma-free genre among its industry counterparts.

Does that mean all romance novels are worth critical acclaim? Heck no. There are some sucky ones out there for sure. But do other genres have their own share of craptastic representation? You betcha.

Again, if you follow this blog, then I’m probably preaching to the choir. Maybe you’re actually a romance writer yourself. If so, then you’re also familiar with “the look.”

There will always be people who don’t understand, or even want to, and that’s okay. Because the rest of us know that with the romance genre, there is so much more than meets the eye upon that curious first glance. It’s the type of fiction that gets into your mind and stays there, the type that explores love and intimacy from within the intricate tapestry of the human condition. It inspires hopeand yes, even change. So…

Whether you read it…or create it…

I hope it inspires you too.

If you’re proud to be a romance fan, let me know by leaving a comment. I’d love to hear from you!

 

Copyright © S. A. Healey

 

Image source: flickr.com – Tsahi Levent-Levi, artist

 

 

Throw The Book At Me

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Miracles really do happen. Case in point:

This is the second time I’ve blogged this month.

Shocking, right?

Wait. There’s more…

I have written more words in the first few weeks of 2017 than I had during the entire second half of 2016.

Unfathomable!

Seriously, no one is more surprised than I. Divine intervention must be to blame. Either that, or something’s “up” with these new Starbucks Cascara Lattes I’ve been sucking down like it’s my job.

Whatever the reason, I feel like raising the roof in grateful praise of this seemingly new lease on creativity.

Hallelujah!

Of course, it’s entirely possible that tomorrow could put me in a staring contest with a blank screen. Or have me fretting over a single sentence for ten hours straight. Or encourage me to repeatedly bang my head against the keyboard just for kicks.

But I’d rather not think about that right now.

What I have been giving substantial thought to, however, is the type of content I’d like to feature on this blog going forward. After plugging away on WordPress (albeit sporadically) for nearly four years, I’m eager to steer this site in more a definitive, yet expansive direction. Hence, its new name:

THROW THE BOOK AT ME

I’m not doing away with the stuff I usually post here—but rather, building upon it—resulting (hopefully) in a more interesting and varied pit stop for those who share my affinity for The Three Rs…

Reading, (w)Riting, and Romance.

Future posts will include anything and everything bookish and love inspired, such as one-shots (flash fiction), poems, editorials, book reviews, book release announcements, and author spotlights.

Reviews and spotlights will, in large part, showcase independently published authors and their literary offerings in the romance genre.

I also plan to share my own experiences as an indie author—the good, the bad, and the downright awkward. Not that I consider myself a self-publishing expert by any stretch of the imagination. But if I can spare any writer contemplating the indie route even a fraction of my rookie mistakes, I’ll be a happy camper.

Who knows? Maybe by the time my tenth book comes out (if I’m lucky enough to get that far), I’ll actually know what the heck I’m doing. 😉

Thanks for reading! Oh, and if there’s anything authorly/bookish/romantic you’d like to see covered on this blog, feel free to make a suggestion in the comments. x

~ Sue

 

Copyright © S. A. Healey

 

Image source: flickr.com – Nathan O’Nions, photographer

 

For Me

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Write me
In bold-stroked Sharpie fashion
Cradle me
Like you do your leather-bound literature
Feed me
Your compliments judiciously
Bring me
Faith in longevity
Give me
As good as you get
Play me
From lullaby to lyrical bite
Make me
A song that will save your life
Render me
Willingly defenseless
Feel me
With every fiber of your middle age
Watch me
Teeter with my heart on the line
Know me
Beyond the smoke and mirrors
Accept me
For my tongue-stammer authenticity
Tell me
Soulmates don’t switch like the weather
Show me
It’s not all lip service
Brand me
‘Til separation would be as painful as a burn
Love me
Because I am yours and yours alone

 

Copyright © S. A. Healey

 

Image source: flickr.com – Sam Hood, photographer
 

Recollection

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I recall
The pain
Fluid
In its persistence
Stalking
My mobility
Diluting
My vitality
A humid shadow
Of looming
Consuming
Endurance
Oozing under footfalls
Permeating soles
Slogging north
‘Til all I could taste
Was grit
And disillusion
 
I recall 
The tears
Kept at bay
Out of sheer
Determination
To denounce
My cantankerous
Unravelling
Upholding
Proper posture
Beneath
The burden
Of knowing
Full
Wasn’t as heavy
As empty
 
I recall
Wondering
When my thoughts
Would suspend
Their cyclonic fumbling
Edging for something
Just out of reach
Rapt by
Their own dominion
Garbled notes
Echoing cruelly
Between my ears
Holding me
Hostage
Against the breath
Of their merciless wind
 
I recall
When the world
Finally stopped
Spinning
And I sank
To my knees
In grateful praise
Of greener pastures
Spread invitingly
Before my pleading eyes
Wheatgrass
Seductive
In its ebb and flow
Calling to me
Like slender fingers
Beckoning
And for the first time
In forever
I actually felt
Like dancing
 
I recall
My feet
Moving
Of their own accord
Surging me
Toward a goal
I never thought existed
That void
Filling in
And brimming over
Its face
Emerging
In shades
Of solace
The sun caught
In its lashes
A heart cupped
In its ample hands
 
I recall
How a single
Full-bodied smile
Erased a lifetime
Of hurt
My own
Reciprocal grin
A showcase
In creases
Of many lives lived
Etching vulnerable
Patterns
Across my skin
Charting dreams
And insecurities
Wants
And bare necessities
Unfathomable
That I could feel
Such joy
But still lay naked
My fears
 
I recall
Finding
A place to belong
Inside your soul
Somewhere to be
Unapologetically me
Where feeling
Didn’t make
Me weak
A space
That not only
Completed 
But wholed me
A home
In which to cultivate
Tomorrow
A gift of time
To open
With burgeoning hope
That something
So precious
Could last forever
 
I recall 
That the greatest
Love
I’ve known
Or ever will know
Still exists
Inside of me
Homage
To the rhythm
Of the music
We made
Its percussion
Ever present
Within my veins
Building to
Domeless crescendos
Their purpose
To expand 
Evolve
And to carry me on
 
I recall…
 
And I will never
Let you go

 

Copyright © S. A. Healey

 

Image source: pexels.com – Kayla Corpron, photographer