About the book...

Mother Earth creates an army of paranormal super-beings known as The Gemini. They will try everything to wipe out humanity- plagues, disasters, cancer.

Oliver Weldon, oil tycoon, is recruited by the Mother and becomes a lead Gemini. Renamed Onyx, his duty is to completely destroy the human race.

The Gemini, a powerful rising force, proceeds to systematically decimate towns, cities, states… and eventually, the world.

Amidst the chaos, a forbidden relationship between a girl, Violette, and Onyx, begins. He will wrestle between his new found conscience and his duty to the Mother.

They find themselves in the middle of a revolutionary war that will either save, or destroy human kind.

Tuesday, January 29, 2013

Personalized plates ruined my run today

When my dad was still alive, and we knew he would be gone soon, I asked him what he wanted on his grave marker. He shrugged his shoulders and said, in his sarcastic who gives a damn tone, "See ya later." We laughed and he never told me any different.

He left his Buick to my kid and we've decided to put plates on it and drive it until it's time for her to. Today I got my personalized plates for the Buick in the mail. I walked down to the mailbox like I normally do to get ready for my run. I was pumped because it was 70 degrees out today and sunny! I opened the DMV envelope and fell apart. I walked out and put the plates on holding back sobs the entire time. God it hurt! To commemorate him, to finalize my personal memorial to my father was hell inside. I was drained after a good half an hour crying jag. I can go for weeks without shedding a tear and then, BAM, in my face, the pain gets me all over again.

It's been almost 4 months since the lung cancer stole him, we have yet to order his marker and his 69th birthday is in two weeks. While I cried, all I could say out loud, over and over, while I held a picture of us together was "I love you, I miss you, you were wonderful." I would get confused at to whether I should say "you are wonderful or you were wonderful." Isn't that stupid? I also kept saying "I just want you to know how much I love you." Then I wonder if he misses me as much as I miss him. Then I wonder if he can even miss me because he is dead. Then I said out loud, "You're the only thing I have to look forward to when I die."

I don't know why but it just feels good to get this stuff out of me. I think "I'm an author, I should be blogging about my book." I will, I will and I do. But I guess that's the beauty of blogging. I can blog about whatever I want, whenever I want and everyone can read it or no one might read it.


  1. I'm sorry for your loss.
    It's good to talk about it, sometimes writing also helps. It is your blog and you can post anything you like, readers should be here for you.

    Rivie @ Bookshelf

    1. Rivie- thank you for the kind words. Your profile pic makes me smile:)

  2. I am sorry for your loss. Grief has a way of sneaky up on you when you least expect it. And writing is good for the soul, a way to for us to keep them close to us and to remember when they are gone.

    1. Thanks Amber, I appreciate you reading my ramble and the kind words:)

  3. Thank you for sharing your story...

    I felt your pain while reading your post...

    It's something that time posted on your post is 555 - and those number has to do with Change...

    (New Follower)

  4. Thanks so much for reading and following! I didn't notice the 555 time thing, that is really neat. I am following your blog too now.

  5. One of my mother's favourite poems - and mine - was the fourth section of T.S. Eliot's 'Little Giddings' from the Four Quartets. I read it at her funeral - we used to read it to each other and my children regularly. It opens with:
    'What we call the beginning is often the end
    And to make and end is to make a beginning.
    The end is where we start from'
    As is common with a lot of Eliot's poems, it's a bit cyclic and variations of this phrase keep repeating.

    Grief is like that. As I said to you in an earlier note to you when you first wrote about your dad's death, I'm coming up to ten years in June since my mother died. Those blindsides - like the one you got when you opened your plates... - they still happen, just as unexpectedly - like the time a few months ago when my partner and I were prowling around a secondhand shop and I came face to face with a row of vintage kitchen canisters identical to the ones Mum had when I was growing up. I was a mess!

    Part of me hates it when it happens - like I'm supposed, after all this time, to have 'got over it' and be able to just move on. You know what, a bigger part of me doesn't want to get over it... She was my mother, and deserving of being remembered, even if sometimes that memory is painful.

    Big hugs to you. Drive the Buick with pleasure. Wait for the right epitaph to come to you - there's no rush, and it WILL come. And do something particularly nice for yourself, knowing that he'd want you to.

    And - for some light relief...it's early morning here, I've just got to work, and today I actually remembered to put on some mascara....right now, that's feeling like a big mistake!! Time to go mop up and repair the damage before anyone else arrives!


    1. Kaz- you always know how to make me feel better and make me smile. Thank you for your wisdom. Why were you crying? I hope I didn't mess up your mascara!

    2. Your post got me thinking, and I had a slew of memories of my mother - hence the tears. She feels very close at the moment, for some reason - sometimes that happens and I wish she'd leave me be, and other times it's nice. Weird stuff!

      Those darned canisters are plaguing me now. After me hassling her for a very long time, she'd finally agreed to collaborate with me on a book that would have been, essentially, her story - an idea that, of course, died with her. Ever since, I've been puzzling different ways to pull together my incomplete knowledge of her story to write something by myself. On my walk this morning, I may have figured out a beginning - I'm just not sure how to structure it so it works... So, we'll see. I have some nuts and bolts writing to do today (for money!) and if I haven't burned myself out by the end of the day, I may start teasing it out and see what happens.

      Keep smiling. Enjoy the little things - and be content that it would make your dad feel happy to see you doing that. Kx

    3. Oh, wow! That sounds exciting! I have toyed with the idea of taking my dad's old manuscripts and trying to get them published, in his name of course. They are from the seventies and they are still so neat. Then I thought about taking his published works and retyping them, getting them on ebooks, etc. to honor him. I could make a whole website for him, a tribute! Maybe once my book gets going I can. I think you should go for your ideas with your mom. So, you write for money, huh? How?

    4. I have a part time job in marketing, part of which is editing a big monthly publication and I write for that. But I've been writing freelance since 2004 - a variety of things. Commission pieces, when I can get them, within my field - art history, contemporary craft and design. But I also write on a number of other topics and that's given me feature article work for journals and opera programmes - they're fun. Currently, I have a contract with a ghost writing company, so that's more regular, if less interesting work - lots of web copy...

      Sounds like you have oodles of your dad's writing - how wonderful. My mother was a poet, and I have bits and pieces of her things. Also some odd bits of prose that she tinkered with but never resolved, that I may be able to incorporate. I'd go for it with your dad's stuff. It would honour him, but it would also give you a project that still involves him that could possibly be very helpful for you as you work through this transitional time.

  6. I am very sorry for your loss. It is great that you are able to vent about it and I understand what you are going through. I lost my grandfather more than two years ago and watching my mum go through the same.
    You may feel as time passes it gets better and maybe it does but as Kaz mentioned in the above comment your dad deserves to be remembered.
    So hold tight and I hope it gets easier to remember him. :)

    Best wishes!
    (New follower - The Smell of Parchment.

    1. Hi Madiha- I'm following your blog now too. Thank you for the encouragement.

  7. This is such a heartfelt post, I've not lost a parent, and I can't imagine how painful it must be to go through. I'm glad you could get your feelings out, through crying and this post.

    I'm a new follower from Book Blogs, I see we are already Google+ friends. :)
    Bookish Whimsy

    1. Thanks for the follow Charlene, I followed you back.

  8. First of all thanks for the follow :D
    Also I would love to read the book for you, is it going to be an ARC?
    Also I hope you check you comments.
    And here are my email ids, feels free to use either,

  9. sad to hear about your father. thanks for sharing your story