The Closet

It’s dark. So dark. I can’t see my hand in front of my face. I know it’s there, I can feel the energy generated by the limb. My nerves are tingling all over my body. Waiting, for what’s to come.

I’m not sure what will happen if I move, but it can’t be good. The air around me is charged, as if any spark might ignite it. Maybe that would make it better. Set it on fire. Set me free.

I hear something. A shuffle perhaps.

Small. Something tiny moving quickly in the dark.

It’s not him. He hasn’t found me. Yet.

My breathing is shallow. Quietly, so no one can hear me.

I’ve been in the dark for what seems like hours, days. It’s surely only been moments.

I sit motionless. Any movement may give me away, my hiding place.

If he finds me, what will he do?

Thank God, the babies at Mom’s. I couldn’t hide him too. He’s so little. He doesn’t know to be quiet. He’s safer, no matter what happens to me.

His father is mad. He’s trying to find him but I won’t let him. If he finds me, he’ll kill me. All that matters to him is the baby. I made him mad. I sent the baby away without telling him.

I was trying to escape as well but there was something I forgot and he came home. Now I won’t ever see my baby again.

A muffled crash interrupts the silence. I jump and my elbow bumps a broom in the dark. I grab the pole just in time.

Lucky, so far.

I hold my breath just in case. Where did the noise come from?

Heavy footfalls come closer, traveling up the stairs. Closer.

Please don’t let him open the door. Please don’t let him find me.

I’ve been hiding so long, crouched in the dark. I’m not sure my legs would respond if I had to run. I have nowhere to go. I have to wait him out.

Please go away. I can’t stand this anymore. Maybe I could make a run for it?

I quietly scoot towards the door, placing my ear against the cool wood. My imagination manifests an image of my pursuer on the other side of the many layers separating us. Confidence builds within me as I sense his presence.

He calls me. He sounds worried. Maybe I’m wrong? Maybe it’s a trick? He’s trying to lure me into a false sense of complacency. I curl into a ball. They told me he would hurt me and my baby.

They said we weren’t safe. They said he lied to us. He didn’t really love us and never would. They’re my friends but no one else sees them. I don’t have to share them with anyone. They take care of me, giving me warnings. I need to get back to my friends. They’ve been quiet for so long. Where did they go?

My heart pounds and my breathing quickens. Sweat beads on my forehead and drips down my back.

He’ll hear you. Calm down.

They’re here. They know I can’t handle the dark. The noises of all the things I can’t see.

What do I do? Wait.

Silence. Maybe he gave up?

Suddenly I hear the knob turn. It’s right above my head. My eyes widen. It’s turning slowly. Ever so slowly.

I quickly shuffle as far from the door as I can get in the tiny space. Cowering in the corner, my friends voices grow louder in my ears.

Don’t let him get you. He’ll hurt you and the baby. Protect the baby.

Squeezing my eyes tight, I try to ignore their screams. My hands pressed snug to my ears. My knees tucked under my chin and hot tears cover my cheeks.

It’s him. I’m paralyzed.

He kneels in front of me, scooping me into his arms. It’s so easy for him, as if I weigh nothing. His arms are strong, his chest wide and reassuring.

I feel safe. But the tears won’t stop. I’m confused. It doesn’t feel like he’s mad.

He carried me to the bed, setting me gently against the softness.

My eyes are still shut tight. I’m afraid. Afraid of what I’ll see. I don’t understand what’s happening to me.

He’s talking quietly, his voice full of an emotion I can’t identify. He asks me to look at him. To talk to him.

You can’t trust him. They tell me if I open my eyes he’ll know my secret. He’ll make me go away.

The bed dips beside me, his arm wrapped around me. He’s talking softly. I can’t understand the words. But the sound relaxes me. He’s rocking me like a child, making me feel safe. The hum of his voice is drowning out my friends.

I open my eyes. Nothing looks menacing. It’s the room I share with him. I feel lost inside myself.

 Lifting my head slowly, afraid of what I’ll see. Tears gleam in his eyes. Touching my face and wipes away the tears. Looking in his eyes I forget what I was running from.

I sit with him. I hear a noise. A cry. The baby is here?

He explains that the baby was crying when he got home from work. He couldn’t find me, so he took care of the baby before finding me. He didn’t want to scare me so he let me hide for a time.

He found me where he always finds me.

I’m so very tired. The voices are gone. For now.

He helps me into bed to rest. Then goes to the baby.

The Heart

The heart is an unknown variable. Capable of so much pleasure and pain. A constant ache sprinkled with bliss. No rhyme or reason. Nobody to guide it through the darkness.  What is this world but constant pain? Must we traverse the void alone? Must the heart be a hollow waiting to be filled?

Check out thewayiseething.wordpress.com

Check out my commentary blog The Way I See Things for my opinion on different topics from Armageddon to Cougars (not the cat) to tattoos.

Ghost Stories

Every culture around the world has their own beliefs about the after life. Even more interesting is the belief that there are other beings occuppying a different dimension simultaneously with us. We know them as ghosts in most parts of the world.

Have you ever had an unexplained chill? Or walked into a cold spot in anotherwise warm room? What about those shadows you see move out of the corner of your eye? Strange noises in an empty or sleeping house? Things mysteriously disappearing from where they were and then reappearing in the same place?

Ghosts can be quite mischievious or malevolent. For example, a poltergeist--which is German for noisy spirit--tends to move things loudly, slam doors, drawers and cabinets. Other ghosts can cause even more trouble. However, they all seem to have one thing in common. They require energy to give them strength. Fear seems to give them the most power.

In nearly every house or apartment I have lived in there have been unexplained activities. Noises when the house was empty, things moving disappearing and reappearing, shadowy figures. One thing I have always done is iognore them. I don't give them any credibility. However, babysitters and boyfriends have had similar experiences in my homes and gotten scared and whatever it is continues to torment them and even seems to gain momentum.

Tune in next time when I give specific accounts of ghostly encounters.

Summertime, Summertime, etc.

I know its not quite summer in the rest of the world but here in sunny Florida it was 87 degrees by 10:30 in the morning. I know its only April and Easter is just around the bend but it's been summer here for almost a month now. I took the kids to the beach today and I don't think any of us made it back without sunburn. Of course we were there during the most direct part of the day. lol.

After saying all that, I was wondering about everyone else's story. Have you had a day that started out as an average good day and then everyone ends up hurt in the end?

Some eye candy...Yummy!!!

Writer's Wellness

Sorry, ladies, I haven't meant to be AWOL. However, I promise to make it up to you with a terrific interview with the author of Writer's Wellness.

Welcome to Cat's Place, Joy!

Hello, Cat. I’m honored to be your guest today. My new non-fiction book is actually a second edition, a revision of Writer Wellness, A Writer’s Path to Health and Creativity which first came out in 2003. It’s been updated and is now available in print and as an e-book from Who Dares Wins Publishing.

I wrote Writer Wellness in response to the many writers who wanted to know my “secret” to publishing articles and poems, raising a family, and working part-time as a teacher. I took a look at my daily life by keeping track of it for a while and noticed several habits. Those habits included regular journal writing, habitual exercise, meditation, proper nutrition, and playing around with different forms of arts and crafts that enabled me to stay on a creative edge all the time. I recognized the process kept me in a state of creativity and helped me completely avoid writer’s block. I’ll never forget hearing young adult author Phyllis Reynolds Naylor say she had so many ideas in her head all the time she didn’t have time for writer’s block she had writer’s diarrhea. That’s how I feel. Like I’m constantly running with ideas. I put Writer Wellness together for others to adapt to their own lives and careers, and the result was a book and workshops.

Cat- Why did you become a writer? Was it a dream of yours since you were younger or did the desire to write happen later in your life?

Joy- Writing has always come naturally to me. From the age of ten I wrote poems, stories, plays, and articles for school and a neighborhood newspaper I put together in the fifth grade. I wrote then and now because it is some kind of compulsion that can only be relieved by writing. I HAVE to write.

C- What do you love about being an author? Is there anything you dislike?

J.H.- Being a published author has been my dream since I was a young child. I’ve published over 500 trade journal articles and newspaper columns since college. Writing is what I do that brings me the closest to putting my hands on my real truth—who I really am. The only thing I dislike about being an author is the difficulty making a living with it.

C- How do you balance your personal and writing time?

J.H.- When my daughters were young, and responsibilities piled higher and higher, I learned to do a little something on everything every day. I didn’t have the luxury of large chunks of uninterrupted time to work on a project until it was done no matter what. But babies are a big what and their needs took priority. The girls are in college now but I still do a little something on a long list of things every day and I’m very productive with that process.

The other thing that provides balance for me is staying healthy. I’m addicted to exercise and I like the challenge of cooking and baking with alternative products like spelt in place of white flour. Exercise and nutrition.

C.- How do you write?

J.H.- I write in some form or another constantly. The voices in my head are a steady stream of comments, questions, and ideas that force me to keep pad and pen everywhere. I journal almost every day and sometimes twice a day. Because I have paper and pen handy, when I find myself waiting, I write. I write when I’m eating lunch at a restaurant by myself. I consider my blogs writing and I do a lot of them. These activities keep my writing muscle in shape and in a perpetual state of readiness to then work on the books and articles I have in the hopper.

C- What would you want readers to take away from your books?

J.H.- I want readers of Writer Wellness to take away the idea that writing is a natural process but to be something more than someone who scribbles poems on the back of an envelope it takes a plan and perseverance. The plan found in my book is adaptable to anyone’s needs who really, really wants to pursue a writing career. Because the plan includes a little bit of everything (journaling, exercise, relaxation, nutrition, and creative play) every day in whatever amounts your life allows at the time. The process sustained me during the years that other parents set aside their writing plans and it continues to support me as I grow as an author.

C- Do you have any advice for beginning writers in regards to writing a book?

J.H.- Please set your ego aside and get responsible assistance in the form of a critique partner, writing courses, and professional editors who teach as well as edit. Almost nothing I write goes before the public without several drafts and major projects always get passed by a friendly but knowledgeable writer to see things I missed. This makes the writing communal and always much stronger. And I am constantly learning as a writer because I don’t take it personally when someone offers constructive criticism. I’m writing for readers. I WANT to know how it’s received, and a good critique will help me understand how to connect better with readers.


C.- Where can readers go on the net to find more on your books and anything else?

J.H.- I am thrilled when readers connect with me. My blog is the best place to do that.
www.writerwellness.wordpress.com
Book sales are available just about everywhere, but for the best service I recommend visiting my publisher Who Dares Wins Publishing.
www.whodareswinspublishing.com

Joy E. Held
Writer Wellness, A Writer’s Path to Health and Creativity
2011
www.writerwellness.wordpress.com
www.writerwellness.com

Who Dares Wins Publishing
www.whodareswinspublishing.com






Thank you so much for joining us today, Joy. And I'm sure I speak for all of us when I say I look forward to reading Writer's Wellness.

Cat