Posted in Fiction, Imagination, Life, Uncategorized

Pinterest Prompt-1-1-17

“She added a charm to her bracelet for every life that she took.”

(Prompt inspiration from Promptuarium on Pinterest)

Today’s charm was a small, white and black spotted circle.  It reminded her of this morning’s charge.

It never got easier.  The look of life leaving the eyes of a soul that had a family.  Had a purpose; had loved and lost and shared and existed.

She stood washing her hands, looking down at the bracelet.  Some times of the year seemed more challenging than others.  This beautiful first week of May, she hadn’t had any others. It was just the one.

The worst part had been the young woman, sobbing as she’d explained the process. Sobbing as she’d put the needle under the skin.  She hadn’t seen anyone cry like that from her services in a while.  It was evident that the young woman wanted to hate her and didn’t want to be here.

She cleaned under her fingernails with a brush as she thought of how the young woman had held the beautiful soul she’d removed from this Earth. How she buried her face in the black and white spotted fur and told her that it would be okay; that she loved her and it wouldn’t hurt anymore.  That in her thirteen years, she’d been the best friend a human could ask for. That she was so sorry, and it wasn’t supposed to be this way but she never wanted her to suffer. That no matter what else happened in her life, she’d remember her, and this moment, for the rest of her life.

The young woman’s parents had brought them here, to the office, to relieve the old dog’s suffering.  Consequently, they left with a young woman whose heart would forever miss her friend, creating a different type of suffering entirely.

The charm was chosen as a reminder for the life she took.  For the power that her services had to relieve suffering.  For the beautiful soul that loved and left.

Posted in #Future, Imagination, Life, Uncategorized

As good a time as any…

Every year at this time, people make resolutions to better their lives.  I do the same thing.  Recently, I have noticed several articles regarding the concept of self-awareness and accepting responsibility for the things in your life that are not the way you’d hoped.

I think there’s really something to this.  Now seems as good a time as any to determine the importance of taking one’s destiny.

My business did okay this year, but I have been dragging my feet about marketing to a broader range of clients.  I know how to do it, and I train other people how to do it, but I haven’t done it.  Why? Because what if I fall on my face, and the people who think I won’t be successful are actually right?

I’ve not applied as seriously for as many, full time, big human resource positions as I could.  Because I am afraid. I am concerned  that if I take a new position, it will take me a long time to be as confident or comfortable as I am now…comfortable is a killer.

Another year has passed and my book isn’t finished.  Not surprising, as I’ve been struggling to focus in.  But also not surprising because I’m afraid of the rejection of publishers.  Pouring my soul into something only to be told it’s not good enough has long been a fear of mine.  Now is as good a time as any to admit that.

2016 is over, and I still haven’t lost thirty pounds.  I always resolve that I will;  but I haven’t.  I still haven’t run a marathon.  I still haven’t gotten my A1C (a test used to measure blood sugar over a period of time) under 7.0.  I’m still waiting to do those things, because what if I try really hard and nothing good happens? What if I get myself into the best physical condition of my life only to find out that it doesn’t matter and the diabetes has done too much damage to live my life the way I want?

The fact is,sometimes not trying is easier than failing.  Sometimes, it seems like by trying you’re really just running on a treadmill-endlessly wearing yourself out.

Even more terrifying: what if they’re wrong? What if I really do all these things?  What if I’m a huge overnight success and I don’t have to struggle and people hate me for it? Who am I to deserve to meet my goals? What if I win?

The fact is, the posts about taking responsibility are hitting home for me this holiday season.  I did accomplish several of my goals, and that should count for something with me.  I was a better friend, a better sibling and daughter and granddaughter this year. I stood up for myself and took pride in my work.  I did, at least, start my foray into working for myself.  I traveled all over the world and the US with my family and the man I love, and I didn’t apologize for taking care of myself.  I took some pride in me, and I saw progress.

But now is as good a time as any to admit that 2017 looks a little daunting, but like a mountain I want to climb.

I accept that I will have to beat me. I have to win against myself, and that means falling on my face.  I know this. I also know I might fail, but at least some of these things must get done this year.  This time I have to win, and that means accepting responsibility for my own sabotage.

Regular updates to follow. Similar resolutions, because I need goals.  Hopeful progress to share.

(P.S. How cute is this picture of us on our recent adventure to New Orleans? We’re in the Garden District here!)

Stay motivated everyone!



Posted in #Future, Uncategorized

Facing the Facts

So I am either excellent at upkeep of my own blog and online presence…

…or I’m the absolute worst at it.

There is ZERO in between.  Unfortunately, I’d like to mention that this is because my brain so often refuses to settle down, follow the list, and do what it is told.  Instead, it tells me that we are out of milk…at 2AM. It then proceeds to tell me we really should have watched that documentary last night…at 2PM, when I’m supposed to be functioning in my day job like a normal adult. Exhausting.

I’ve always struggled a little with follow through and focus.  I’ve been assessed for ADD and ADHD at least five times, all to no avail.  Instead, I’m just super creative and sort of flighty with most of my daily function items.  It comes with the territory, I guess?

So why am I mentioning this now?  Because it looks like I haven’t done anything on here in months.  Several months in fact, and that is not quite the case.  I’ve added pages, taken on new projects and clients, and have even done some new jobs since the last time I actually posted here.

Additionally, I’m trying some new methods of getting organized and focusing. It’s challenging, but I’m making slow and steady progress.  Thus far, I’m seeing some success, and I’m hoping my regular postings on here and the completion of my novel in 2017 will reflect that.

This is also the time of year where a few interesting things happen for me.  One of which is that I generally slip into a really irritating seasonal funk.  It is one that is managed only through travel, creative outlets, and a lot of time at the gym.  Additionally, this is also the time of year where I reflect and focus in.  With the world in a cold, dark state here in New York, it becomes vital to make goals, make plans, and stick to them before we run out of daylight.  There’s so little of it.

Here’s to more conclusive writing on a more regular schedule with better outcomes for my to-do lists in the coming months!




Posted in Uncategorized

It’s Conference Week! 

My FAVORITE annual writing conference is finally here! 
Yesterday, I hopped in the car with a fellow conference attendee and we hit the road. 
Cape Cod is stunning this time of year and this conference is such a great opportunity to meet, greet and be inspired by fellow writers, agents, and public relations experts.  
I am working from the conference this week at my usual day job. A change of scenery can be HUGELY beneficial to solving problems, determining systemic changes, and gaining perspective. I’m hoping my remote location helps me to determine our next education plan for public relations. 
More thoughts on these things later. For now, I’m going to enjoy sunshine and sand while I write…and then send at least twenty more emails. 

Posted in BlogABook, Fiction, Imagination

In the hospital…fiction, rough draft from The Many Men of Maggie James

“I’m okay Dad.  Don’t worry.  Couple days I’ll be back home and feeling fine.” Said Maggie.  She tried to force a small smile, but her mouth and throat hurt badly.

“Okay, Mag.  Okay.  Your mom is on her way and Jack let your brothers know you were here.  It’s gonna be okay.” He turned to Maisey.  “Dr. Kahn will be here soon, right? Do we need to wait for Martha?”

“Martha is Maggie’s mom?”

“Yes, Martha is Maggie’s mom.  My ex-wife.”

“Ideally, yes, we’ll wait. Can I offer either of you gentleman anything?  Maggie, can I get you anything?”

Both Jack and Dad turned to look at her. “Ice water. Please.” Maggie stated.

“Can she have that?” Dad asked.

“Yes, of course.  Water in all forms is good for you.” Maisy said.  “Boys?”

“I’m good for the moment.  Jack?”

“Do you have any coffee?”

Maisy smiled.  “Yes sir.  Why don’t you walk with me and you can make it just the way you like it.”

Jack nodded. “I’ll be right back Mag.  Hang out with Dad.”

Maggie closed her eyes, smiled a little and nodded.  Jack walked out with Maisy.

Dad looked up at her from the foot of her bed.  He reached down and patted her foot held under the yellow blanket.  “What happened Mag? Did you fall?”

Maggie breathed in through her nose and released the breath through her mouth.  When she was a kid, Mom had put her in counseling with a child counselor when she started crying randomly, all the time.  She’d be at school, at home, at soccer practice and would burst into tears.  The thoughts and anxious ideas would race through her mind.  Eventually the counselor figured it out and helped Maggie learn to control the feelings of anxiety through breathing and mantras and self-soothing thought processes.

“I don’t remember falling Dad.  I was trying to get over some things.” Her eyes welled up as she said it.  She was still feeling the dizziness but some of the nauseous was starting to subside. “What day is it?”

Dad looked at her, the concern was clear on his face.  “It’s Thursday, Mag.  What’s the last day you remember?”

“It was Tuesday afternoon.”

He shook his head and looked away.  He didn’t want to see her cry, and didn’t want her to see him cry either. He patted her foot again, “Okay. Rest.”

He walked into the hallway and left her in the room alone.  She started breathing through her nose again.  The dizziness was making her feel like she had motion sickness, but the bed wasn’t sailing.

She could hear Jack chattering away with the nurse and she smiled a little again.  He could talk to anyone.  He wasn’t quite as loquacious as she was, but as she listened to him talk with Maisey as he walked in the room, she was filled with pride and love.  If she’d really died, he would’ve  been okay.

Posted in Fiction, Imagination, Professional Experiences

The Grand’s Voice

Published under M.A.Cole in the Sibyll Literary Magazine, Elmira College, 2011.

As the swell of my feelings began to rage, the murmur of the voice of my true love came sliding towards me.  It was an echo of the voice I longed for, and as I stood surrounded by the sound, I forgot the others that inhabited that room with me.  For this moment, this brief glimmer of time, they were unimportant.

I found myself shaken as the murmur became a louder, more distinct calling.  Like a lost soul searching for eternal piece, I closed my eyes and searched for the internal light that the echoing voice promised.  I bravely held my own against the sound, recognizing that the others in the room could not possibly empathize with what I was feeling.  There were no words to describe the way my emotions flowed right through my soul and uplifted my spirit into a new, more beautiful place.

The voice suddenly grew louder, and louder still as my heart began to pound.  The dull beat that my heart felt prior to this meeting was a long forgotten memory as my heart began to race.  I could not find what it was racing from: was it to keep up with the volume of the voice? My feelings of passion and love and heart ache? Or, was it the continuity of a lifetime, this same burning ache that seemed to radiate from my bones and through my flesh into something so much more important than me?

Then, something amazing happened: a chord was struck within me. I felt it hit my ears and my heart at the same precise moment.  It was the voice, “I have to go. But I’ll always be with you…”  Silently, suddenly aware of the others, I begged, Please, don’t stop! I need you. I’ve always needed you. Who will keep me safe?  No one else understands…  But the voice doesn’t listen. It continues on, and the audiences of people surrounding me seem to notice the shift in moods.  The people around me are sitting up straighter, leaning forward on the balls of their feet, waiting and watching to see what will happen next.  They don’t understand, but they can sense the change.

Finally, in a last cadential whisper, the voice draws its song to a close.  Like children, the people around me are thrilled by the intensity, even if they don’t understand.  They clap and jeer, and seem all too excited to stop hearing the voice.  My eyes water as I bid it farewell.

The pianist bows and leaves the stage.  The grand’s voice is silent for now.