Jun 30, 2012 |
Congratulations to Jessica N. of Arizona!
In response to last week’s post, Mojo Book Review (and a Giveaway!): The Collected Short Stories of Louis L’Amour”, Jessica commented, pinned, and shared her entry on Facebook. All of these earned her three entries in the Giveaway.
Jess, thanks for being a Most Valued Reader at Frankly, My Dear…
I hope you enjoy your book and can’t wait to hear your own review.
For those of you who didn’t win, thanks so much entering and promoting the Giveaway. July starts tomorrow so keep reading! There will be a special giveaway coming up soon (think summer!).
Until then, Happy Reading!
And Frankly, My Dear… that’s all she wrote!
Jun 29, 2012 |
The month is over, and I’ve got a great July planned! How ’bout you?
We’ll celebrate the Fourth of July. Make Chicken in the Slow Cooker. Write. Read. Drink Coffee.
All this and more will be featured on Frankly, My Dear… so I hope you’ll stay tuned!
And in case you missed the previous week’s posts (and the current Giveaway!), here they are:
N’Awlins
Loozi-ana
#FlashpointFinalDays
“What’s the Word?” Wednesday [Blog Hop]: June 27, 2012
Pour Your Heart Out – Link Up
Being a Crier Does Not Make Me Weak
CURRENT GIVEAWAY:
The Collected Short Stories of Louis L’Amour, The Frontier Stories, Volume One
Have a wonderful weekend!
And Frankly, My Dear… that’s all she wrote!
Jun 28, 2012 |
I cry. You know this. I’ve talked about my crying in my writings. I’ve cried while writing. I’ve cried while reading. I’ve cried while watching TV. I’ve cried when listening to music.
I cry when I’m sad, stressed, angry, confused, and happy.
I cry when I see other people cry. I cry when I see other people who should cry but can’t.
Now there’s a time and a place for everything. I don’t cry every day. There are times when I need to suck it up. And there are times I have to let go. I can hold it together until the moment presents itself. Most of the time. But, as a general rule of thumb, I’m a crier.
I cry.
And I’m okay with that.
But some people aren’t. Some people see my tears as a sign of weakness or anger or giving up. Some people see me as less than strong, as unmanageable, as someone who doesn’t “have it together”.
And to you, I say: That’s okay that you think that.
My tears mean I’m in touch with my emotions. My crying means they free-flow out of me. It’s part of what makes me a great writer. To be able to grasp the innermost workings of a person’s soul and spill them onto paper in a way that others can’t.
My crying means I see potential. I see how things could be, sometimes should be. I see how things were. I’m aware of change. I’m aware of all the What If’s and Used To Be’s. And I’m constantly fighting with myself to come to terms with What Is.
Yes, I’m embarrassed that a simple hug from a friend can start the waterworks. Yes, I’m frustrated that my heart rate elevates in proportion to my saline discharge. Yes, Yes, Yes! It’s uncomfortable. It’s awkward. It’s a bit stifling.
But it’s also a freedom. It’s how I work out what’s in my head and in my heart. I can drive through tears. I can still function. I can still cook, clean, write, sing, and dance while crying. I can, I have, I will continue to do so.
And I can process. I can process my thoughts, my feelings, my plans, the world at large. And I can come up with wonderful ideas and suggestions and characters and dialogue and settings and environments and stories.
I don’t mind that I’m a crier. Because I don’t do it all the time. And when I do, it’s authentic. And when I do, it doesn’t mean I’m only sad or angry or overwhelmed. Sometimes it means I’m all of these at once, plus happy and elated. And confused.
And when I cry, I can talk. I can say, “I’m crying because…” I’ve never said, “I don’t know why I’m crying.”
I feel more. I think deeper. I love stronger. I relive memories. Every bit of me is an electrified emotional experience. And so, on occasion, I cry. It’s just one more way I express myself.
And I don’t think expressing myself makes me weak.
And Frankly, My Dear… that’s all she wrote!
