Tuesday, January 6, 2015


Workshopping our writing efforts, we are instructed to make the writing clean to allow the writer to disappear into the voice of the narration and create prose devoid of any ostentatious display of talent. I didn't always do that. My first love was songwriting. My writing is lyrical, has rhythm and often rhymes. It can ring to the ear just a well as it could ring true. That being my gift, I thought it best not to suppress it. In certain passages in Love Changes, I decided to let it fly....

Rather than focus on the negative, I made myself busy. I showered, shampooed my hair, put it in four big plaits, and tied it up. At the salon, Dawn had kept the perm in so long; it burned and now my scalp was scaly. But I didn’t call my sister, bitchin’. Instead, I slipped on some rubber gloves and commenced to clean each room from top to bottom. That didn’t take long. When I’m heated, I do everything faster, but faster isn’t always better. I soon had my head in the oven, coughing from noxious fumes. Common sense should’ve told me: it’s not wise to scrub an oven without proper ventilation. I cracked the windows, letting in some air. But, those toxins still got to me. Bad enough my scalp was itching, now I was gagging. Because of a surge of adrenaline, this black woman forgot: she is not superhuman. So, my adrenaline buzz wasn’t doing me a bit of good. The problem was I couldn’t help but focus on Spider and Romell. Well, I had enough of being pissed off. I tugged off my rubber gloves, brushed my sweaty hands down my lucky nightgown, snatched off my scarf, and scratched my scabs.

LOVE CHANGES is available on Kindle....