I love a lot of things.

Like quotes about love that don’t make me throw up in my mouth a little.

“Love doesn’t sit there like a stone, it has to be made, like bread; remade all of the time, made new.” -Ursula K. Le Guin

And this song.

And this one.

And this funny video.

And getting published in literary magazines.

“We’re going to need a bigger heart…”

“If only there were evil people somewhere insidiously committing evil deeds, and it were necessary only to separate them from the rest of us and destroy them. But the line dividing good and evil cuts through the heart of every human being. And who is willing to destroy a piece of his own heart?”

~ Alexander Solzhenitsyn

A Broken Worth

Broken and gnarled, but so beautiful.

“We love those who see the worst of us and don’t turn their faces away.” – Walker Percy

I dig that man and his words.

But what of those who do see the worst of us and want no part of who we are?

It’s one thing for a person to say, “I don’t find my worth and validation in other people’s opinions.” It’s a completely different thing to say, “I don’t care anything about what other people think.”

To be honest, I think it’s a little arrogant and self-absorbed to think the latter. The person puts themselves above all others, implying their opinions don’t matter. Ideally, I shouldn’t even care what I think about myself. My Judge and Jury are elsewhere.

There once was a woman, a painter. She’d been painting since she was a little girl. Like anyone who ever tries to be anything, she wasn’t great at first. The more she painted, the better she got. As a young woman, she explored different and darker themes. Painted things that some people found offensive, but they reflected a moment in her life. She explored the process. The offensive things received some recognition, but mostly she painted them to learn from it, and she moved on.

She grew and her work changed. Different people bought her work, displaying it around town. She was proud of what she’d accomplished and thankful for the process that brought her to that point. She realized you have to get all the ugly out  to find the beauty. So even the ugliness has value. Has importance. Ugliness and Beauty go hand in hand.  Even bad art days were part of the process. She wanted to go further. To grow and learn.

A few of those she worked with found her most offensive paintings. And they really were grotesque. They did not care for any of it. They did not ask her to explain. They did not want to understand. They did little to hide their anger and disgust. They asked her to leave. She felt worthless. Undeserving of love or grace. Beat down and shattered. She didn’t understand how they could look at the expanse of her art and only see the worst, most evil. There was so much they did not like, but she was so much more than the ugly, even though it was a part of her.

It broke her.

All she could do was hold a hand over her heart and cry out.

After a time, she picked her paint brush back up. Doing so, she was afraid. Like if she started to paint again, she would open herself back up to pain, to hurt, to disgust from others. But she was a painter. She pushed that vulnerability aside, knowing rejection might come again, and began to draw a single line across her canvass.

It started smooth and fine, but went jagged and wrong. Moments curved, making lovely shapes.  Breaks returned, but never in the same way twice.

It would be a long time before the line was finished, but the hurt and darkness in her heart eventually faded.

She felt hope again.

“Beautiful Sorrows” by Mercedes M. Yardley

Mercedes Yardley was one of the first writers I “met” on twitter. She is a kindred soul and we became fast friends. A few years later, her family took a trip to Disney World. At the time, I only lived an hour away, so I packed up my family, and drove out to meet her. We recognized each other right away. Our daughters pointed out that they owned the dress the other was wearing. Her son immediately sat down in our double stroller and HAD AT a bag of Cheese Nips (my kind of kid). Good times were had, especially under a quirky arch.

Our time together was dear and a little strange. Yes, Mercedes and I have both fallen off the Tree of Crazy and Odd and hit every branch on the way down. But I say “strange” because up until that point, we’d only been our public online selves. Yes, we’d had private conversations about real, every day life, but online, Mercedes and I (along with other crazy twitter friends) talked of swords, ninja fights, high kicks, and karaoke battles.

In person, we were mothers, trying to talk to each other while keeping sharp objects away from our children. Our kindred selves, but tamer versions. Our time under this arch is special to me. We wrote our names somewhere on the walls.

I asked Mercedes a about special trip she’s taken, a place or experience that would stick with her. She said there were many places:

I went to Paris as a teenager and saw Romeo and Juliette’s veranda. There’s a place called Adam-Ondi-Ahman out in Missouri. It really has a special spirit there. I went to the hiding place of Anne Frank in Amsterdam. That might be the answer. It was one of the most amazing experiences I ever had. Also, once when we were flying to Finland, I felt this sort of…it was almost a physical tug on the plane. I wanted to hop out and go to wherever we were flying over. It was crazy; I went to the back of the plane and paced around a bit because I had this nervous energy. Turned out we were flying over Scotland, where my family roots are. I wanted to go there so badly! I felt like the land itself was calling me.

She has the most incredible heart, amazing writing talent, conviction and character beyond belief (dear readers, if you knew what I did you would cry in the best possible way). I admire her and have loved seeing her writing career take off. Her book of short stories from Shock Totem is out now and it is breath-taking. She’s given me a paper back copy of Beautiful Sorrows to give away.

Cover by Yannick Bouchard

She writes with hope, strength, and clarity, but in this lovely lyrical way. If you’d like a sample of her writing, one of my favorite very short pieces she’s written is Strawberry-Rhubarb Pie. First line:  “We invited my dad’s killer over to dinner once.”

To win this book, leave a travel experience of your own in the comments section. Is there a place or person you visited that meant something special? Entries will close Thursday, October 11, at midnight (central). The winner will be randomly selected and announced on Friday the 12th. Can’t wait to read them!

If you simply cannot wait and want to order it from Shock Totem, please go here.

Mercedes and her writing group, celebrating the book.

Updated Things

Hello! IT’S BEEN A WHILE. How are you? I’ve been great. Busy. Summer. Lots of children. Gnashing of teeth. Swimming in Water. Assigned Reading Lists. Snarling and Frothing. You get the picture.

I have new published fiction! If you feel like reading them, mosey on over to the Published Work page on the left of your screen and take a gander. One is in print, pictured below, and isn’t that the most beautiful cover you’ve ever seen? I love it.

The June issue of scissors and spackle.