Chrysalis: The Butterfly Fields - Official Release!

Chrysalis: The Butterfly Fields is now available on Amazon.com in e-book format. The paperback can be purchased at createspace.com, an Amazon company.  The Butterfly Fields is book one in the Chrysalis trilogy.

Read the prologue here:

Darkness shrouds the encampment where Máire sits by the fire that burns with the flames of the ancient days. Wrapped in a wool blanket, she beckons the clan to gather around, “Come, come and sit about the fire that I may tell you the tale of Wishing Woman and Dances with the Butterflies. It is the tale of the fiercest battle ever fought within these Lowlands we call home, never to be forgotten.”

Máire’s visage bears the passage of time and her body aches with the age of its years. Her now white hair pulled tightly in the traditional twisted knot at the nape of her neck. Even in her aged state, she is the favorite among the children. It is she who tells the legends and lore of the family, the clan, and the tribe.

Huddled together the clan folk take their places upon the logs, their faces aglow in the light of the crackling fire, anxious to hear this tale of which they had not yet been told. “Oh, do tell, Máire, do tell us of Wishing Woman and Dances with the Butterflies!” a cheery faced young maid exclaims as she sidles up next to the old storyteller.

When the listeners are settled, Máire leans in close to the fire as though to watch the story play out before her very eyes as she speaks. Máire takes a deep breath, resting heavy against the cheery faced maid beside her as she falls deep into remembrance of the story. “In the years after the great clan wars, the McCormick Clan reigned all the Lowlands as far as the eye could see from the great manor known as Bainsford. The ruins lie just there beyond the hill,” she starts, her boney finger pointing off into the distance. “Within the great walls of Bainsford lived the two sisters. It was they who brought the war between He Who Created All Things and He who Rules the Land of Eternal Flames upon the lands,” Her gray eyes smile in the firelight as she looks from one to the other to ensure each is attentive to the details of the tale she is about to begin in earnest.

“It is said that long ago, on the northern most edge of the canyons, carved by the Great River, where the sun strikes the sky in a glorious display of burnt oranges and deep sapphires lay the village of Johnsport. It was a village filled with quarrels between the original people, the Daoine Réalta, and the interlopers from the land across the great sea to the east; our people, the na hÉireann, men of science and discovery. The na hÉireann held fast to their belief in He Who Created All Things, yet partook in the sciences of creation; an abomination according to the Daoine Réalta.

The Daoine Réalta, translated to the common language as Star People, came upon these lands millenniums ago with no accounting for the means of their arrival. In appearance, they were a simple folk following the traditions, culture, and beliefs of the ancient days. Yet, deep within the keep of their fortress they kept a secret. It was a secret so valuable, so ancient, even they themselves were unable to lay eyes upon it…lest the guardians lay them low.

As the story goes, a stone’s throw downstream of Johnsport, amongst the mighty oak, silver ash, and cottonwood trees, where the gentle breeze brushes the tall bristles of wheat grass, intermingled with the occasional petals of tiger lilies, crocuses, and wild roses, were freedom, safety, and sanity…The Butterfly Fields.”

Dreaming Big in the Big Dream Blog Hop

In early January, Cody L. Martin, author of The Adventure Hunters, asked me to participate in an intriguing blog hop, entitled: The Big Dream Blog Hop, the purpose being to dream big about your project, and letting your readers know what those dreams might be. I agreed to participate, because all great achievements begin with a single dream, right?

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The Big Dream Blog Hop:

(Cody L. Martin)Writing is largely solitary, and sometimes a lonely endeavor. Sure, you talk to friends, experts for research, discuss what works and what doesn't with your editor, and bounce ideas off of fellow writers. But in the end it's one person pounding the keyboard or twirling the pencil. But what if it didn't have to be completely alone? Who would YOU work with if you could work with anyone on your favorite project?

In this post, that's what I'm asking. Choose a person for each category and tell why you want to work with them. If you want, feel free to post their picture, a piece of their work, or a link to something about them. The only rule is that the person must still be alive.

Writers dream. Now it's time to dream BIG.

You have the opportunity to hire anybody as your cover artist. If you write children's books or books that are heavily illustrated, who would you get for the interior artwork?

That's an easy one. Elena Dudina would do all the art work for "The Butterfly Fields" and the other two books in "The Chrysalis Series." Hands down she is the best and only choice.

Who would you co-write your next novel with? What genre? Why?

If I could write with anyone at all, I would choose Neil Gaiman, author of American Gods and Neverwhere, among others. The man is a genius, and a master story-teller. He is also a relentless propagator of the metaphor, like me. I'm afraid he would often refer to me as grasshopper or little spider or something along those lines. It would be in the fantasy genre. His sense of knowing when to insert comic relief would also be invaluable. 

Your publisher wants to do an audiobook version of your novel and they're not sparing any expense. Who do you think can narrate your masterpiece?

Sadly, I don't generally buy or listen to audiobooks, so choosing someone is difficult. However, to answer the question, I would choose Adele. She has a vocal range that would nicely accommodate the story of "The Butterfly Fields." She knows her way around a recording studio, and I think she would be fun to work with on the project.  

They're really going all out! Your novel is getting a full soundtrack. Who should compose it? If your novel uses a lot of songs, list your compilation here.

I love music, but I know very little, actually nothing, about composing. However, I listen to a lot of music while writing. There are many artists who come to mind while reflecting back on the writing of "The Butterfly Fields." If I had to list those I would like to have in the soundtrack, these would be them:

Aoife Ní Fhearraigh - one of the most beautiful Irish Gaelic voices I have ever had the privilege and pleasure to hear. Younger readers may know her song, "The Best is Yet to Come" featured in the PlayStation 2 game, Metal Gear Solid and Metal Gear Solid 4 in the PlayStation 3 game. However I would choose her song, Mo Ghra-Sa Mo Dhia as it is so beautiful and fits the plot of the story.

Mary Chapin Carpenter - I love Mary Chapin Carpenter's folk songs. The depth of the emotion involved in her songs reveals the very inner soul of the singer. The song for "The Butterfly Fields" would be Closer and Closer Apart. Although the song is about lovers, it also can be applied to the situation between the sisters, Elsie and Annalicia.

Albannach - "The Butterfly Fields" is written in reflection of the times of the Gaels, although it is not a historical fiction novel. Albannach is a Scots-Gaelic performing group of drums, pipes and other traditional instruments of the times. They have a song that works well in the story during the time of preparation for battle, The Fire and Thunder of Scotland.

Clann An Drumma - As with Albannach, Clann An Drumma rocks the drums, pipes and other traditional instruments of the times of the Gael. Like many other tribal cultures of the world, the Gael used drumming and dance as a means to prepare themselves, in all aspects to go to war. The Gael is comprised of three of the six recognized nations of the Celts: Irish, Scots, and Manx. The dynamics, legends and lore of the Gael plays a significant role in "The Butterfly Fields."

Viktoria Tocca - Although her rendition of The Dark Waltz (Phantom of the Opera) is vampire based, she sings the song beautifully. I can't say much about this part of "The Butterfly Fields" as it would be a spoiler to the story. We mustn't disappoint our readers before they've had a chance to begin the journey into "The Butterfly Fields."

Enigma - I have loved this group for years. Their music speaks truths into the world that otherwise would not be heard. The Age of Loneliness speaks volumes to the loneliness of the soul of Annalicia in "The Butterfly Fields."

I could go on and on with lists of performers I would like to see on the soundtrack for "The Butterfly Fields", but there is not enough room in this post.

Congratulations! Your novel is being turned into a major motion picture. As the creator of the original work, you get to pick the director.

The Butterfly Fields is a work that could only align with the vision and insight of Polish film director, Agnieszka Holland. Not only is she a director, she is also an author, which I feel gives her a greater ability to envision what "The Butterfly Fields" really are, and portray it as such.

Agnieszka Holland is a Hollywood outsider, as far as director's go, which in my book says that "The Butterfly Fields" would be fresh and new on the screen.

The director has some ideas on who to cast, but you get to cast one character. What role/character is it and who portrays them?

There are no other options. The role of Seanmháthair, a pivotal character in "The Butterfly Fields", must be played by no one other than Dame Maggie Smith. One would think this decision is based on her acclaimed performance as Professor McGonagall in the Harry Potter series, but no. I love British films and one of my all-time favorites is The Secret Garden (1993) where Dame Maggie Smith plays the role of Mrs. Medlock.

Dame Maggie Smith has the best ability to portray Seanmháthair as the character is complex and requires someone who can pull off a traditional grandmother role, a strong grand matriarch, and yet someone who surprises even the most astute reader / viewer.

You've been hired to write a novel based on a preexisting character or franchise from another medium. Which character or franchise is it?

I love a challenge. I love complex people who confound and astound the masses with their antics. Yet, at the same time wear their emotions on their sleeve in broad daylight even though the world may not recognize it. I would love to write a novel on the life and times of Eminem. You didn't see that coming did you? Although Eminem is considered a 'person', in reality "Eminem" is the public persona or character played out in live action for the masses. Eminem is the alter-ego of Marshall Mathers III. Eminem is a man who is definitely Not Afraid. (Video not family friendly due to language)

It's the anniversary of your favorite literary character's debut. You've been hired (yay, work!) to write an anniversary novel. Who is the literary character?

The Velveteen Rabbit. This was one of my all-time favorite stories as a little girl.

Be sure to check out Charles and Wendy Siefken's blog tomorrow as "The Big Dream Blog Hop" continues. Charles and Wendy Siefken are the co-authors of Kia's Journey.

The Butterfly Fields: Annalicia

All I ever wanted was to love and be loved. It is but a trite to ask, yet there has been naught in this world that would evidence itself as love for one such as I. The whole of my days has been the reminder that I am Athair’s daughter. I did not ask for such a fate. However, here am I, the peculiar child of Neville, the Béarla traitor.

 

Upon Athair’s demise, I had been stripped of all that was he. My name became that of my clan, McCormick. But, there is one thing of which I could never be stripped, despite the best efforts of the men of science. I am the legendary Wishing Woman of Johnsport. Whatever it is that I wish is so, just as I desire it to be.

As a child, I took pity on the pathetic excuse of a sister who runs about the world like a rabbit scared of her own shadow. It is I who created The Butterfly Fields for her. Many years we gallivanted through the forests and meadows. Yet, she abandoned me for books! Books! She had no care or concern the men of science would hunt me like the wild game of the canyons. She abandoned me just the same, to save herself. I had no choice but to flee into the confines of The Butterfly Fields.

She shall tell you she had gone in search of this elusive God that shall save us both. But, even one such as I knows that He Who Created All Things is not to be found out there. He is not to be found within the pages of books, or at the road’s end. Nay, He is not. Had she been attentive to the stories of which I told in The Butterfly Fields, Elsie would well know He Who Created All Things is found within; not without.

The knowledge of this changes naught for me. There are those on whom He places great love and favor, and those who He abandons in the darkness of the wilderness. They left to their own means and device, just as I have been. There is no compassion for the imperfects of the world. There is no love for those who have not the perfect form and condition as those in the village.

I well know the blame for all that is has been placed at my feet. However, it is I, and I alone, who controls these fields of butterflies. It is I who controls the comings in and goings out. It is I who has built this palace of fire and ice. Lord McCain, though he fancies himself my equal, is naught but a play thing for my own pleasures. He scurries back and forth to the College of Alnae, bringing news of dear Elsie’s fate. But one day…one day soon, she shall know that it is I, her elder sister, the poor Wishing Woman, who holds the scissors at her strings. On that day, I shall gain my rightful place at the head of the Elder table; at the head of the clan.

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Note to Readers: This is only a character profile in The Chrysalis Series. It does NOT reflect my personal views on God or the ways in which he chooses to interact with us. It is the fictional character of Annalicia McCormick.

The picture above is the sole property of its unknown creator, and is in no way part of The Chrysalis Series. It was acquired in the Public Domain of FaceBook.

(c) The Chrysalis Series and all books and text thereof are the intellectual property of Donna R. Wood. All rights reserved and subject to International Copyright Laws.

Simply Saturday: A Picture is Worth a Thousand Words

Today, I am simply sharing the cover of 'The Butterfly Fields," book one in "The Chrysalis Series,"designed by Emily Shilling. Thank you for your work, and I look forward to what you come up with for books two and three.

Simply Saturday: Seanmhathair

Seanmháthair has always frightened me. She is the fiercest woman I have ever come to know. She rules the clan in such a way there is none to neither deny her decisions nor question her authority. I have never understood how it is that a woman so stern and deeply steeped in her convictions could ever know what it is to love another.  Annalicia and I are no exceptions to the rule. Our lives have come to naught but groveling for a crumb of affection, and resignation to the constant reminders of our lowly state in the manor.

Seanmháthair’s power and authority comes not from sorcery or magic, it comes at the end of her tongue. Oh that sharp instrument of precision that cuts so deeply into the soul. I know not which frightens me more the weapon Seanmháthair wields, or the instruments of the men of science. It matters no more. One way or another, I shall take my leave of this place, this hideous place of discord and deceit. I shall return for Annalicia and we shall live happily ever after…far away from the instruments of destruction.

 

If Mhathair would only plead for me to be released from the family obligations, I know I shall be granted my only wish and desire in this world. I shall find my name on the enrollment rosters of the great College of Alnae and begin my quest there. It is surely by the will of He Who Created All Things that this desire burns within my soul. It could be naught else. If Seanmháthair is to deny me, then she shall deny him as well and the risk be the same. Mhathair must make her understand. She must let me go.

 

The stars shine in the heavens as if to say, “come hither and see”, yet they are so far away; so very far away. I long for the lands of which Annalicia tells her tales in the Butterfly Fields. These are the lands where the sun and moon do not take turns ruling the day and the night. The moon does not exist; there is only day; no sorrow or tears; the whole of the universe sings in adoration of all that is, and ever will be. Ah, but they are just another manifestation of the world in which Annalicia lives; a world in which only she knows the true limitations.

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I hope you enjoyed this sneak preview into The Butterfly Fields which is due to be released this month! Have a wonderful and simple Saturday!

Monday Musings: The Butterfly Fields - His Grace

No gent of The Butterfly Fields may hold a candle to His Grace. Aye, he is the most generous man with all that is his to give. Annalicia could not possibly imagine such a man as he. The Lady Iris has made this so. How is it I could fear one such as she, when she has done naught but to treat me well? It is she who has clothed me in fine rainments when I had naught but rags in my wardrobe. It is she who has sat by my bedside nursing me to health. It is she who has welcomed me to her home. Nay, I cannot fear one who has only given me hope in the dark of the night.

Since the first night of our meeting, His Grace has given me all that my heart desires. He comes for me in fine carriages. He gifts me with the finest jewels and perfumes. Dare I dream he may love one such as I? Nay...nay I cannot. Yet, my heart fills with joyous rapture at the very sight of him. How is it my head and my heart can be in such conflicted disagreement? How is it I shall run to the window when dusk falls to seek his carriage upon the road? What is this that has befallen me? Have I been beguiled by such a man as His Grace, the Duke? Or, is it I whom has beguiled he? I know not. It matters not.

The first night we waltzed into the deepest depths of the hours of night. The moon hung in the sky as though witness to a wish upon a shooting star coming true. All the night my feet ne'er touched the floor as I whirled about in the mesmerizing pools of his eyes. Although the room be filled with all the gentry of the land, there was naught but he and I. There was a safety in the arms which enveloped me. I dared not breathe for fear it would all melt away and I awaken in the loneliness of the dark. The scent of his hair lingers in my nostrils. The sound of his voice soothes the anixiety which pounds in my chest. It was my only wish and desire to tarry but a bit longer when the night had come to an end. Aye, but a true gent he is. He bade me farewell at the door of the carriage of Lady Iris. I watched as his visage disappeared into the midnight hour.

The days and weeks since the first night have created in me sensations I have not known. The very thought of his arrival gives my stomach cause to wrench with anticipation, and my heart to pause until the next gasp of air. Dear Richard has come to wonder if I have taken leave of my senses altogether as he has caught me singing in my own company. Lady Carin assures him I have complete control, I have only found that which my heart desires most. They laugh together at the very thought of it, yet Richard carries a sense of unrest. I know not what it is that causes him such sorrow in his heart. I should think he would share in my joy, yet he does not. His voice is silent more oft than not these past weeks. I am certain it is the difficulties of his studies. It can be nothing more than this. In my heart, I truly care not. I can only think of him, His Grace.

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I hope you have enjoyed this week's preview into The Butterfly Fields. I am working diligently to finish. I will announce the official release date here on the Butterfly Phoenix blog first. Have a wonderful week everyone!

Monday Musings: The Butterfly Fields - A Summary

I have never been beyond the road's end. I know not what it is that lies over the horizon. Elder Morton has traveled many lands throughout the world over and tells many tales. These are the things I must know; I must understand.

My fingers have turned the pages of near ev'ry book upon the shelves in the library of Johnsport. It is the Great Library of Alnae which holds all that my heart desires. All the most learned men and women of the world have studied at Alnae. I too wish to attend the College of Alnae, yet I have ne'er been beyond the road's end. It would be the most wonderous occasion of my entire life to see this magnificent city of Alnae with all the treasures it keeps. Mhathair must let me go.

My dear sister, Annalicia, has created such a beauteous land of imagination and wonder just beyond the manor gates that lead to the canyons. Many happy days have been spent among the butterflies and creatures of the meadow. Princess Aria and Annalicia the Lovely have escaped near ev'ry scoundrel and bandit to ever dare embark on such an endeavor as to plunder The Butterfly Fields. Nay, not one has e'er conquered these fields of butterflies; no darkness has ever creeped within the boundaries. Nay, not even the men of science have laid eyes upon our land. It is here we escape the atrocities of Johnsport. It is here we find freedom, safety, and sanity.

It is said in the worship house of Johnsport that He Who Created All Things is a great and wondrous God. But of this God, I have seen no miraclous deeds of mercy, or compassion; only misery and death. There is naught in Johnsport that evidences the concern of He Who Created All Things. The men of science have left their marks upon the children without regard to the will of He Who Created All Things. I, myself, bear these markings, and it is only a matter of time before they come for Annalicia. She shall be safe in The Butterfly Fields. They know not where to find these fields of butterflies. They shall ne'er know. They shall seek until the end of days, yet the entrance they shall ne'er find. 

It is just there beyond the road's end where He must be found. If He is not to be found there then He is not to be found at all. With Annalicia safely hidden in The Butterfly Fields, I must travel this road alone. I shall make search of He Who Created All Things and save us both; perhaps Johnsport itself. Mhathair and Seanmhathair must release me of the family obligations that I might make journey to the College of Alnae. A library with holdings as such the travelers have told tales must be magnificent. In this library of all the world, the answer is surely to be found. He Who Created All Things is surely to be there among the books. I shall return for Annalicia only when I have found that which we have searched for our entire lives. The very thing which shall save us both. 

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I hope you have enjoyed this week's preview into The Butterfly Fields. 

The cover design for The Butterfly Fields is finished. I'm pretty excited about that. I have to make the final finishing touches to the manuscript before publishing. Until then, I will continue to publish teasers here to satisfy your curiosity. These are not actual exerpts from the series. They are summaries.

The Chrysalis Series is a triology. Book One: The Butterfly Fields; Book Two: Torn Wings; and Book Three: Monarch.

After the departure of the former muse known as Cowboy Bob, the titles of the books were reconsidered and changed as appropriate. :)

Simply Saturday: A Chapter Summary of The Butterfly Fields

Alone in the fortress, the dampness of the stones seep into the bones. The whole of the world lies just beyond the window ledge, yet my flesh cannot carry the bones away from this dreadful place.

The whole of the world. The very thing which has brought me asunder into this dwelling of darkness. Oh that I had not followed that which was not mine to have. Oh that all the times and occasions of life had not lead me down this trecherous path. Yet, here am I...alone.

The world carries on as though there were no gardens of regret planted on every hill and in every dale along the roadside. It carries on as though the Baal fires had never once burned upon the hillsides...as though the frenzied dances had never occured. How is it the world knows not of the misfortune lying in wait for those who have traveled this road into the abyss of nothingness?

Sleep shall not come to those who have traveled to the road's end. There is naught in the world but a endless writhing in pain and anguish...dreaming in the wake of a light that shines in the far off distance. This light with neither source nor end. Oh had I only stayed as she had begged with me all those years ago. Had my heart not been consumed with selfish desires, the Butterfly Fields would not lie in ruin. She would not be held captive in the arms of he who has imprisoned her in that which is not love, but deceit.

Her tender flesh would not be encased in the iciness of the longing for that which has not been seen in the lowlands for many a year. A longing for that which has not been seen since I had taken my leave, nay, since my abandonment. She reigns her lands with a heart of stone, as is common in the lowlands. She reigns without compassion...without mercy. Her loyal subjects, such as they are, carry out her wishes without question. They fear he who has captured her heart, and rules her mind.

What is this I have done? Is there naught that I can do to turn back the hands of time to the place where my journey had begun? If only the creek which leads to home would flow with laughter as it had when games and adventure were afoot. If only the Great River would feed the fields of grain as it had in the days of Seanmhathair's youth. If only the canyons would release the wild game which once roamed upon the rocky hills. If only...if only the Butterfly Fields were once again filled with the light and laughter of our days as children. What? What is this thing I have wrought upon the land, the village of my clan? Can they ever forgive me? Can I ever forgive myself? Nay, there is no forgiveness...from them, or from me.

As I have done, so too has been done unto me. My family has abandoned me. Left me to wander alone in the darkness, no longer welcome at the fires of Baal...no longer welcome in the circle. My clan has turned their faces away. They no longer recognize my visage. They no longer desire to engage in my conversation. They rightfully lay the blame for all that has been wrought upon them at the feet of the betrayer; at my feet.

The only hope for redemption lies in the center of the village, within the walls of the Daoine Realta. There is no way to find the path which leads to redemption. There is no one to lead the way through the wilderness. My only comfort comes from he who has stood by me from the beginning of this journey, the one who bears the wisdom to see that which cannot be seen. His daily knock upon my fortress door brings a comfort I have ne'er known. He speaks words of wisdom as though somehow he has discerned the very wisdom of the Daoine Realta; as though he has entered the walls and reaped all there is to glean from such a place.

I know not how this can be. There has ne'er been a single na hÉirean allowed beyond the gates of the Daoine Realta walls. He has not even the slightest likeness to that of a na hÉirean. When has it been he would have had chance for such an oppotunity. Nay, he is but a learned man with much wisdom and nothing more than this. How could it be more? There is naught in this world that has not been destined to occur. I have ne'er seen such a contenance such as his within the village. Yet, he bears a familiarity. Something or someone I should recall. There is naught to be done now, but to wither into the nothingness which I have become, only with the comforting words of one such as he. At the end of it all for me, there is naught to anticipate but the earth which shall cover the flesh and bones of this shell, the soul long departed.

Simply Saturday: The Butterfly Fields Update



I have been working night and day on The Butterfly Fields, Book One in The Chrysalis Series. I was hoping for a summer release, but I do not think that is going to happen. I want to explain why that is to my faithful blog readers and Tweeps.

The Butterfly Fields is something that is near and dear to my heart. It is not an autobiography, but many of the events which occur in the story are loosely related to my own life with poetic license and embellishments, and some of it is deeply entrenched into the life I once knew.

The Butterfly Fields is not your typical run-of-the-mill hurry up and get it out sort of story. It has many complexities that cannot be rushed or they will lose their meanings and purpose. The characters must be developed in such a way emotions and connections are evoked in the reader, or the understanding is lost. This is a series of books that span the life of a young girl living in the dark ages, yet can be related to on many levels by readers of today.

I think any fantasy author writing about the ultimate battle of good vs evil, on some level, is forced to face the darknesses that have lived in their own life. I could be wrong. For me, The Butterfly Fields is rather therapeutic in nature. As I move through the phases of the lives of Annalicia and Elsie, I wander through The Butterfly Fields of my own youth. Bit of trivia about the story: The Butterfly Fields were a real place in my history. They were not what they are in the book, but they were indeed real to me and my next oldest sister in our youth. They were a land of imagination, where many adventures were afoot. They were a place of freedom, safety, and sanity within the harsh environment surrounding us. We were children in the midst of the recession, the cold war, and cultural clashes within our own community.



I discovered in my adventures in The Butterfly Fields, when a person feels powerless, degraded, unwanted, and most assuredly unloved, they will go in search of these things. If they have no basis in any love at all, there is one who will make sure these things are found within the world. We don't like to talk about it. We don't like to acknowledge it, but it is a universal truth that we must accept: In all things there is an equal and opposite. It is as real today as it was in the Garden of Eden in the beginning. It's the whole reason we are in this miserable existence in the first place. I am pretty sure, but I'm no expert, and none of us are special in our circumstances, but I am pretty sure, it is the whole reason Jesus said: "Love one another as I have loved you."

I feel compelled to clarify what I mean by the equal and opposite. It does not mean that the devil is the equal and opposite of God. I mean that darkness is the equal and opposite to light as good is to evil, and love is to hate.

Within love there is mercy, compassion, and hope. Without the experience of these three primary needs of the human being, we are lost among the tyranny of the darkness ever destined to cling to the world rather than to the Ultimate Love. We find our worth and value defined by the world in which we live. Do we make enough money? Are we working in the right career? Do we have enough stuff? Do we have enough power? Are we thin enough? Are we pretty enough? Do we meet the expectations of the world? Are we acceptable? When the answer to any of these questions is 'No', then we begin the quest to make these things the truths of our lives, by any means necessary; even at the cost of the detriment of another - even ourselves.

I am a natural introvert and highly sensitive to that which surrounds me. I assess every situation through association or disassociation as the need arises. As I developed the character of Elsie McCormick, youngest of the McCormick Clan, she is like me in many ways. I discovered something about me in her development: I used to look at my association and disassociation as a negative, when in reality it is the one thing that allows me to think outside of the box.

Without the mercy, compassion, and hope of love it is easy to find ourselves stuck inside the box created by the world. There is no room in this box for the idea that there is more to our existence than the confines of the tangible. When we begin our quest to make the expectations of the world the truths of our reality, we slowly begin to create our own confining prison of tyranny where we, and we alone, are the warden. Only we can go to the Governor of All to seek pardon. For me, this requires both association and disassociation. I must recognize from inside the box there is another possibility, another plausible means, to exist free from the tyranny of the darkness of my world. I must disassociate myself from the world for a moment, allowing me the opportunity to associate with that which lies outside of walls of the prison I have created. This is not a one time deal. This is something that I have to do repeatedly, on a daily basis.

After many years of living with a plague of misery, I can finally breathe. I cannot yet fly, I am simply moving forward one step at a time and breathing...breathing is good. When I can breathe, I can write, and when I can write...I can live.