The Perfect Lipstick

PicFrame 1Viva Glam VI has been my lip color for years….many, many years. I’m certainly a creature of habit.

When I find something I like, I obsess over it and stick with it for a long time. So, although I’ve thought about it for a while, I haven’t been able to find a new color that suits me.

This past weekend, using the Back to Mac offer, I go into the store and ask the makeup artist to help me select a lipstick. He immediately looked at me and said “Let’s Try Pink Nouveau“. I easily agreed because he seemed so sure it was a perfect fit for me.

And he was right! I absolutely LOVE this new lip color. I’ve worn it everyday this week and it’s worked out beautifully. Do you wear Mac makeup? What’s your favorite lip color?

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The Writing Process

typewriterThis book is being written in pieces. I have pieces of storylines haphazardly placed on scraps of paper that are currently lounging on my bedroom floor.

I have pieces of character descriptions etched on church bulletins that are tucked away in various books of my Bible. (I get quite inspired in church).

There are paragraphs taking up storage space in the notes section of my iPad. And then there’s this 12,800 word manuscript with which I’m currently consumed. (Yes! 12,000 words means I’m halfway there! Whoo Hoo!)

I’ve poured much of my heart and soul into this manuscript. And I have to say that it’s every bit of awesome. It’s been said that publishing a book is like giving birth to a baby.

And if that is true then the writing process is very much like pregnancy….painful yet pleasurable, exhilarating yet exhausting. For the past few months I’ve been completing the painstaking task of composing sentences that will combine to create this book.

And Im in love with what I’ve written so far. I can’t wait to find out how it all ends. This will be glorious.

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In Search of Silence

MP900430507Silence is a luxury. In a world where everyone and everything is “turned on” quiet is no more.

And my home is a microcosm of the world. With three lively kids living under my roof, silence has no room here.

Everyday, I search high and low for a quiet space in my house. But there is none to be found.

Even behind a locked bedroom door the sound of little knuckles knocking tentatively comes through.

“Mommyyyyyyy……”

*sigh* “Yes.”

“Can I have a juice box.”

“Yes.”

And then that masterful sentence that had taken residence in my head swiftly vanishes, never to be seen again.

I could certainly go to a library and confine myself to a study room for hours. I’d surely knock out more than a few chapters. But who’d do the laundry, or vacuum the carpet or  iron the clothes?

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The Perfect Writing Desk

Sam's Wholesale oak-wood writing deskWhat an awesome writing desk! I stumbled upon this gem a few weeks ago while shopping in Sam’s Club Wholesale and instantly fell in love.

I imagine myself sitting in my home office at this Collin’s oak-wood desk with the sun shining on my face through the blinds writing the next literary masterpiece.

I want this desk so badly. Yet, the $249 price tag does not agree with my bank account. Thus, I left it in the store. But not before taking a few pictures to ingrain the image in my memory.

 

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The Unfinished Novel

This book is going nowhere. When the idea initially came to me excitement welled in my soul. I could not wait to get these characters down on paper. I flew through chapter one with ease. It is ingenious!

Chapter two caused me a little distress but after a month or so I was able to trudge through it and complete another amazing chapter. Then there’s chapter three…I’ve written all of two hundred words. And I have nothing left.

My outline sits on the desk beside me staring, wondering what happened. But I’ve already veered so far left that it’s impossible to circle back around and get back on track with my original plan. I’m not sure if I’ll make my deadline. I’m not even sure if this book will be ever be complete.

In the meantime, I’ve decided to read The Alchemist to get some distance between myself and this unfinished novel that’s causing me angst. What’s a writer to do when she can’t write? Read!

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A More Peaceful Life

When your paradigm shifts it can certainly make your head spin. I’m in the middle of a learning season and I thought I’d share a few thoughts with all of you.

Life is too short to spend time on things that do not matter to my destiny.

The coffee that was spilled, being late for work, the bill you forgot to pay: These things can be stressors in life. They can certainly cause an undue amount of frustration and anxiety. But in the grand scheme of things, when you add up the totality of your living, do they REALLY matter? I’m determined to take charge of my emotions and focus my living on the important aspects: God, family, friends, and health.

Writing can be difficult. 

Anyone who’s ever attempted to write a poem, essay, love letter or dissertation can cosign on this. I’m working on a new manuscript (click here or here for my books). And for the past month I’ve been stuck in the quicksand of chapter 2 in my next novel. It’s been heart wrenching to develop a particular character and give life to his story. There have been many days that not one word or phrase came to me. And even when the words did come, they wouldn’t flow very quickly. So, I took this particular chapter word by word, sentence by sentence, paragraph by paragraph. And today, I came to the end. Yes! I typed the last word, to the last sentence, to the last paragraph of chapter two. So, writing can be difficult, but if I push through the frustration and take it word by word, I’ll eventually create an amazing piece.

I’m not always right.

Yes, I think Denzel Washington is the best thing since sliced bread. But I realize that not everyone agrees with me (even thought they are idiots). This was helpful information to me this week when I had a conversation with someone about ways to deal with the death of a loved one. I accept the fact that everyone grieves in their own way and I should have respect for the process that people need to go through in order to maintain their mental health. Moreover, I realize that I need to express myself in an honest and respectful way instead of holding my thoughts in, creating anxiety or anger.

There are people who don’t like me. And there’s nothing I can do about it.

I want everybody to like me, because I like everybody (until you do something that makes me want to punch you in the face). But there is this person who, since the day we met, has been incredibly rude and mentally abusive…..and day by day it’s getting worse. I have racked my brain trying to figure out what I’ve said or done to this woman and I’ve come up with nothing. Mr. Incredible told me something that set me completely free: “Krystal, there are people that look you right in the face, laugh with you every day yet don’t like you. At least you know where this lady stands.” Thank you, Mr. Incredible for dropping that gem in my spirit.

These few weeks has been ones of reflection. I’m certainly growing and learning how to navigate life in a purposeful manner. Hopefully, I’ll be able to utilize what I’ve learned and move closer to living a more peaceful life.

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Things Fall Apart

Chinua Achebe Things Fall ApartThe world doesn’t feel right if I don’t have a book to read.  I’m lost unless there’s a novel tucked away in my purse waiting to be opened.

I can’t remember when I fell in love with reading. But I do remember getting lost in the pages of books.

And it still happens- this “getting lost”.  The world of the writer envelops me and I succumb to all the emotions and experiences of the characters. I just……get lost.

I love it.

Just today, I turned the last page of Chinua Achebe’s Things Fall Apart.  It was astounding. Beautiful.  It was EVERYTHING!

At the University of South Carolina (back in the late 1990’s) I had an opportunity- through one of my many literature courses – to study the author.  I don’t remember much about the experience…only that Things Fall Apart was a compelling manuscript and a remarkable read.  It wasn’t until Achebe’s death in 2013 that the book was brought back to my remembrance.

Earlier this year when I began stalking Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie I realized that Things Fall Apart had to be added to my collection.

It is certainly an incredible story. When I got to the last page my mouth hung open at the realization that the book was over.  This happens often with novels that I love.  I get so lost in the words that I seldom realize I’m nearing the end.  And when I do-I’m devastated.

This book, as previously mentioned, is an incredible story.  Just as with Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie’s novels, Achebe gives me such a broader and more accurate view of Nigeria. I love it.

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Exercising My Faith, Part II

Image provided by usatoday.com

Image provided by usatoday.com

Recently I had an opportunity to travel through the Appalachian Mountains.  It was my first experience driving in such terrain and I admit I was  extremely a bit nervous.

As I approached Greenville, South Carolina I gazed in awe at the massive mountains in the distance.  The closer I drove towards them, the faster my heart beat.  Once I passed Asheville, North Carolina my hands were sweaty and my head was pounding.  But I knew I had to face the tremendous hurdle that had me filled with anxiety.

The trip was awful.  Absolutely, positively awful.  The winding roads, limited visibility, overlooking cliffs, and danger of falling rocks were overwhelming burdens I had to bear.  My paralyzing fear was too much–TOO MUCH.

I was relieved when I had made it safely to my destination. But my consolation was short lived because I knew I would have to travel back down that same road to get home.  I tossed and turned all night, crippled by the fear of the mountain. The next morning I had a full-blown, never-before experienced anxiety attack.  I couldn’t bare the thought of traveling that road again.  I was completely terrified.  My body shook with terror and my tears blinded me.  But there was nothing for me to do except go back down the mountain.

Before I began my terrible trek, my sister reminded me of a scripture: ” If ye have faith as a grain of a mustard seed, ye shall say unto this mountain, Remove hence to yonder place; and it shall remove…” Matthew 17:20. That scripture gave me some consolation as I began my journey. For the next 45 minutes, as I traveled down the narrow, winding cliff I sang Donnie McClurkin’s “Great Is Your Mercy.” And as I gripped my steering wheel for dear life, I could literally feel angels surrounding my car. It was remarkable. I could ACTUALLY feel the angels covering me. I continued to sing until I had made it back into North Carolina… away from the mountains.

I stopped my car at a gas station and praised God for deliverance and protection. This was a true lesson in exercising my belief in God. Now, this experience has opened up a new level of faith in my life. I’m so thankful to God. I know that with Him all things are possible. Really. That trip was amazing. And God’s grace is sufficient.

For more on my ever increasing faith, click here.

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My Sadistic Personal Trainer

Over the past three weeks I’ve experienced instances of near paralysis due to extreme exercise forced upon me by my sadistic personal trainer.

This is no joke. I think they she is crazy….or at the very least, doesn’t understand how completely out of shape I am.

They have coerced my body into positions that I thought not humanly possible. I have been stretched to my physical, mental, and emotional limits.

I have complained. I have cursed. But I did not die. Moreover, I have done everything they have told me to do.

It’s still early, so I haven’t noticed any changes in my body yet (besides inexplicably sore muscles). But I’m dedicated to this process. I hate it with every fiber of my being, but I’m dedicated.

I’ll keep you updated on my process. Read more about my fitness journey by clicking here… Taking Charge of My Health .

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Nikki Giovanni, My Hero

photo (24)-aSometimes, something really, really amazing happens to me. And that thing, whatever it is leaves me stupefied. One of those things happened to me last week.

Opening my mailbox I was astounded by all the junk mail I had received that day. I flipped through the circulars and came across an envelope addressed to me. The return address was Virginia Tech.

I carefully unsealed the envelope and read the note. It was from Nikki Giovanni! Yeah, you read right. THE Nikki Giovanni! She stated she had read my latest book and called it “strong and wonderful”. Wow!

I had the opportunity to meet Nikki Giovanni at The University of South Carolina in 1998. I stood in the middle of a crowded room and told her “It’s not often that one gets to meet her hero. Well, today, I’ve met mine.” Then I burst into a shameful display of tears and snot. But I didn’t care, because…it was NIKKI GIOVANNI!

She signed my notebook of badly written poems and I told her that her signature would serve as good luck to me because I had hopes of one day becoming a published author. She laughed. But I believed what I said. And of course, years later, my words came true.

Nikki Giovanni has inspired me in ways I could never verbalize. I love her writing. She’s so truthful and matter-of-fact. I love it. I only hope to become half as prolific as her.

Now, I must find the perfect frame to display the note in because….it’s from NIKKI GIOVANNI! It must be displayed!

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