Cherishing Christmas

This is my last blog of the year. I want nothing more than to put down my phone, step away from my desk, and cherish every moment of the holiday. When I come home tonight we will go shopping for stocking stuffers, bake some more cookies, and well, do everything I have no childhood memory of doing. 

I was once afraid of becoming a parent, but now I laugh at myself. What was I so afraid of? Being a mom brings me more delight and joy than I ever could have imagined. And even in these very early months and years of my son's life, I live out the moments of childhood I wished I had. Only now, it is so much more cherished, so much more embraced, so much more... because it is a moment I intentionally give to him and share with him. Merry Christmas Everyone.

Why one family should stay together

It seems I spend a lot of time thinking about my choice to leave friends and family (of the toxic variety) behind and while that adds vigor to my position, it can take it's toll. Today, I switch gears. for the sake of privacy I will not share too many details, but I do really want to share a story of why a family (a specific family) should stay together.

So I have this friend.... we used to work together. He is what made our awful job so fun and entertaining. My husband and I remain friends with him to this day. We got to know each other pretty well. Including things about our families. I used to joke with him that he married (and divorced, but still very much loved) my mother. The stories we would tell each other it could have been the same person. They had a small brady bunch of four altogether. Some before meeting, some together, and some after. However, through all their drama, all four kids have remained together. Siblings by marriage and by blood, they are all connected in one way or another.

We know the adage, it comes in threes, I hope that is true. A family can only endure so much tragedy. My dear friend was diagnosed with multiple sclerosis last year, he has suffered its progression ever since.  I will add that even though he suffers from MS he has amazing support for himself and his children.Then, not too long ago, their children's mother passed away. Though they had their ups and downs, I know that he only endured their relationship out of true love for her and their children (all of them). And now comes number three, In the aftermath of this tragedy their family finds itself in a custody battle.

My friend does not fight this battle for himself. He fights this battle for his four children. The other two parties that want custody, do not want custody of all four of them, just this one, or those two. It makes me so angry to see people be so selfish, to not consider what they threaten to take away from these children. In their time of grieving, do they not need each other? Their brothers, their sisters, their father?

I tend to stay out of causes and/or politics, I rarely speak my mind on such controversial things. Though believe you me I do have an opinion. But today, I see a dear friend in dire need, and in his four children, I see myself. As I know what it is to grow up with a mother just like the one that they had. I wonder what my life would have been if the same had happened to me, if then I was taken away from my brother and sister, taken from my father. I can't imagine the worry that has befallen their shoulders. What concern they must bear, for themselves, their siblings, and their father.

So today, I do speak on behalf of another, in hopes that my voice will carry their plea far. That help will come to them. That these children can take a sigh of relief and know the battle is over and they will remain together.

http://www.gofundme.com/7376j0?fb_action_ids=10203399222682081&fb_action_types=og.shares

Thanksgiving and Toxic Family

This weekend brought out the first sunlight I have seen in a couple of weeks. It is funny how the weather can effect our mood so much. Not that I have been a grump for two weeks, but my spirits are definitely lifted by the returning sunlight.

With Thanksgiving just around the corner, I tend to dwell on the past more than I like to admit. My extended family is quite divided. Though I am very happy to spend this Thanksgiving with my family (the ones that still talk to each other) I get lost in thought over the family that will not be attending. Every year I wonder if someone will return to our lives, and every holiday season shop for their Christmas gift even if I won't be buying it.

Holidays can do that to us I suppose. I wonder, since I think of lost family so much this time of year, if they, too, get caught up in the same whirlwind of memories. Our family has gone its separate ways for good reason. I do believe that not having some people come is for the best. Though, I know I may be judged for feeling this way, I can only say that walking away from family is never an easy decision. So when that decision is made I think people who have not been in such a position should just feel lucky that it isn't them that had to make it.

What I do know, and what I have learned is that I must hold onto the family that I have with extra thanks. That I intend on raising my children with the intent that they will out live me and will someday only have each other. I can only instill to them the importance of communicating through their differences and finding love and acceptance of each other at the end of every disagreement. I can only imagine how my family relationships would have been if we had such habits ourselves.

A toxic relationship can be a friend, a spouse, a parent, anyone. And it is never okay. Whether you are bonded by blood or not, Relationships of any kind should be built on respect, boundaries, and love. This Thanksgiving I will be sitting down with my family. Family that loves and respects me, and I couldn't be happier. And as usual, when my thoughts drift to those that are not attending, I will send a good thought. I picture them surrounded by people who love them and hope that they feel as grateful for it as I do.

Let it snow, let it snow, let it snow

This week's snowfall makes me reminisce about where I grew up. Mostly, thinking of how warm California is in the winter. I have no problem with a place that doesn't snow during the winter season. I do remember that it rained. Our little canyon would get mud slides that took out entire sections of our road. It could be a couple of weeks before the county came up to make repairs. 

Everyone who lived up in the woods had a piece of equipment. The neighbor down the road had a tractor, my dad had a dump truck, etc. They would go out themselves and dig out people's homes and clear the roads. I didn't realize it then, but as an adult I realize, they must have had a blast. I can think of my husband if it were him up there, just how much fun he would be having. He gets excited when I get him a small power tool, imagine a dump truck. 

To this day, I love heavy rainfall. I became accustom to the seclusion of where I was raised. Heavy rain meant the terrain would change and give a whole new experience on my next walk in the woods. I remember where  a dry creek bed was and how it would would become a stream if enough rain fell. Rain was such a peaceful time. 

Where we live now, the rain is short lived. For most of the year, it is fairly dry. This week Idaho was dumped on by record breaking snowfall. Where we may have only received a few inches (or none at all since it is still November) we received 10 inches in a single day. (And everyone says we have global warming, are we sure it isn't an ice age coming, because it feels that way) Considering the conditions, I decided to stay home with my son and stay in for a snow day. He had his first hot chocolate. I am pretty sure the word "cocoa" is the fastest word he has picked up so far. All day, "more cocoa" 

I realize from my own childhood that memories are definitely made. I think that explains why I lack a lot of memory from when I was younger. I wasn't interacted with much by my stay-at-home mother. Inside or out, I spent it mostly alone. If I was inside I had to be in my room, I only remember being out of my room when my father came home. I wonder what my son will remember when he is older. Will it be the hot cocoa? I know, I know he is 18 months old, but what if we started a tradition that the first day of snow always meant cocoa. I think that it is tradition that embeds the memory. So I decided immediately, when I saw the delight on his face with his first cup that I must make the tradition that the first snowfall will always have a cup a cocoa to go with it. To ensure he remembers. 

This weekend, I will turn his little red sled into a one-dog-open slay . A harness for our dog and a leash to the sled should make for a great time in the snow. Especially, since this weekend we are getting dumped on again by another storm and we will not be going anywhere. 

Bullying Awareness Week~ How I survived being bullied

This week is Anti Bullying week. I can't say just how happy I am that there is a time in the school year that dedicates itself to this awareness. Though bullying still occurs, I like to think this is a step in the right direction. Back when I was in school there wasn't anything like this. The policies were not enforced like they are today. I feel more confident about my child going to school now then I would have ten years ago. 

I was bullied relentlessly when I was a kid. Constantly picked on and made to be an outcast. In elementary school I lived up in the hills. I had limited neighbors and even few neighborhood kids. School was my only place to socialize with others, because when I got home at the end of the day, there was no one to interact with but myself. I do feel that this socially stunted me in some ways. Also, the kids I grew up with had a negative connotation of where my home was. It was assumed that I was poor. 

In addition, due to my home life circumstances I took advantage of the only time I had with other kids. I was definitely the chatty one. At least, in the beginning of elementary school. Which of course landed me in a lot of trouble and also trouble for the person I was talking to. Somehow at the beginning of every school year (like day one) I was set aside from the class from first to fifth grade. All the desks in a cube, I was the odd one out, set to the back, or front, or directly in the aisle with a collection of students on each side. Imagine the impact that has not just on the child being set a part from others, but also the impression it would make on the same students year after year. What does that tell them? 

It wasn't until I was an adult, it casually came up in conversation with my mother. Who then, after all those years, told me it was she who in fact went to each and every teacher and told them to segregate me from my class. All the days I came home crying for being teased over just that and she knew all along. I felt the knife go in my back. 

We moved mid junior high. Living in a small town in Idaho was no easier. Although, I will say that I was very optimistic to start over. Needless to say, the damage was done. My concept of making friends was skewed. Also, being in such a small town, cliches had been formed and bonded well before my arrival. Outsiders, especially Californians, were not welcomed. 

Bullying continued, not just relentlessly mean girls, but boys, too. I can remember being "white washed" by five boys a grade up from me my freshman year. White washing, for those who are unfamiliar, is being shoved in the snow and kicked around unable to get up and get away. They added de-pantsing me to white washing. Making it very cold and humiliating. 

No one stepped in. No one said stop. Blank mindless bystanders. My mother's solution was to move me to a small private school. I was safe from kids bullying me, but is there ever a place without a bully? I have discovered the answer is "no". My bully at this school (which was really a double wide of about thirty kids from k-12) was the owner of the school herself. A tiny, yet nasty and vile, woman. The things I would say to her now, well am sure, may have already been said. At least I hope so. 

Okay, my bully ranting is almost over. I just want to get to the good part and probably the most controversial part of this post. That is, how I survived being bullied, what I know now that I will pass down to my son long before he encounters the same problems.  I eventually transferred back to the town high school. Again, running from a bully, this time my mother had maybe the best idea and took the best action as a parent she ever did. I only wish it had happened sooner. 

She enrolled me in boxing. Now that's not so crazy these days, but this is 1996 mind you. It was unheard of back then. I was only supposed to learn a few moves, but I fell madly in love with it. I could take a punch to the nose without even a flinch, and it turns out, I was a lot stronger than I realized. To keep up with boxing I made an outrageous move, according to my high school principal anyway. I joined the boy's wrestling team. Even more, I signed up for boy's weight lifting. I became the strongest, toughest girl I knew. 

What's funny, I never got to put it into practice. I know most people may read this and think that I resolved violence and bullying with more violence and bullying, but it is quite the opposite. Just the knowledge that I could fight back gave me a confidence and warded off all future attacks. No one touched me ever again. Granted I didn't all of a sudden get invited into a cliche or anything. But who wants friends like that anyways? 

Those days are long behind me, and as my book may indicate I still dealt with bullies into adulthood, but I'll be damned if anyone put their hands on me again. The truth is ever bully I encountered after that, though adulthood brings more psychological abuse, I fight. I fight back. I fight hard. 

What you do with your kids is your own decision to make. If you have a child who is being bullied, I just want to tell you, that enrolling them into something that teaches them that they are strong, they will stand a fighting chance. 

Tea & Poetry Book Club: Nina C. Palmer Takes a Journey Through The Trees

I don't know that I will ever grow accustomed to the praise I have received in the last year. Whether that praise be from family and friends, or complete strangers that took the time to look into what I have accomplished. I don't think that I want to either. There is a sense of humbleness that comes with doing something so vulnerable and displaying it for others to see and judge.

I can only say that I feel incredibly blessed to have received the support that I have thus far. Not that every attempt to reach out has been accepted. Plenty of poetry journals have rejected my submissions. I tell myself, that I haven't tried them all, that my voice, my work will find a home. Discouraging as it may be, it is days like today that take me just a little further into optimism.

Tea & Poetry Book Club is a great book club, composed of amazingly wonderful people. I feel very blessed today that they have featured my book on their Facebook, Twitter, and blog. When you take a chance on someone you give them hope. Today I have hope that my words will reach just a little further and hopefully speak to someone who needs to hear those words. I do not seek fame or fortune, only to have cleansed my soul of the torment I had carried with me throughout my life. Now that I have, I feel I know the way, the path that leads to the light. My hope is that Through The Trees guides others to the happiness that they deserve.

Special thanks to Tea & Poetry Book Club for an amazing feature of my book. You have humbled me with your kind words and I am forever grateful. Thank you.
Tea & Poetry Book Club: Nina C. Palmer Takes a Journey Through The Trees

The Poem That Inspired A Book

Falling in love can be terrifying, especially when we have come from heartache. Although, without that heartache could we truly appreciate or even simply recognize love at all? Life is about perspective. It can be difficult to change when our emotions seem to be fully in charge.

Perhaps this is where the saying "time heals all wounds" comes from. With given time, our emotions change and fade and lend way to a new perspective. This is certainly true for me. I have had my heart broken or at least I had thought so. I realize now mostly my hopes were dashed. I experienced great disappointments. The fact is with a little perspective you realize how wrong someone is for you. I would kick myself over how upset I would be over someone who clearly didn't feel the same way about me. Phsst, why bother with them? In fact, they did me a favor.

Enough disappointment can bring one into quite a pit of despair. Doubt and fear are strong adversaries to hope and courage. However, it is a choice. Down to the sheer chemistry of the matter, our emotions do not rule our thoughts. It's the other way around. What we think is what we eventually feel. That was an important lesson for me.

Hope is all one really needs and good perspective. I see now that my love is stronger than I thought it could be simply because of how much I appreciate how much I am loved. I only can love and appreciate this much because of the heartache I suffered in my past.

I hope that encourages someone to pick themselves up and press on with the hope that true love is just around the corner.

Fear

It seemed so long ago that I was afraid

Fear was my ruler and he was ruthless

It only took but a dashing man to my aid

To free my heart and it became boundless

And so I followed this dashing man

An adventure began at once

With all my courage I took his hand

And left ruthless fear in the dust

The deserted ruler left to demise

Over my shoulder he will sometimes leer

But I find these days I am more wise

No longer a stunned and frozen deer

I send him back with bark and bellow

To his dark and fruitless lands

The trail he leaves behind is yellow

Painted by the tail he drags

My dashing man still at my side

Together fear will not live here

For he is banished countrywide

In a land that will not be ruled by fear

To write about our journey or my journey?

So the month has begun and I have been trying to write a little something every day. I figure at some point (hopefully, this week) I will begin a rhythm with writing my next book. I look at my next book in two different ways, which may be the culprit for my writer's block. Reaching The Castle Wall is about the journey to finding true love.

On one hand, I can write about efforts I made to find prince charming, all the frogs I had to kiss. I do want to have some diversity in its content. I do not just want it to be love poems. I have found stirring up the heartache of the past to be rather difficult. I am in a very happy place and just can't seem to connect to those old feelings. I figure I can use actual fairy tales as a means to at least focus on empathizing with that heartache.

On the other hand, I could write about what happened when I found my prince charming, and our journey. He started as just a friend, and stayed just a friend (albeit, my very best friend) for about six years. Once we decided to be more, or more so, admitted we were in love, things moved very quickly after that. We figured dating was for people who didn't know each other and wanted to be sure they were right for each other. We already knew each other so very well. We had no doubt. A month later we bought a house together and about four months after that we were married. This June will be year five.

So I have a choice to make. I can either focus on writing about our journey, or I can dig into the past and write about my journey. In the meantime, I am composing a list of writing prompts. This book is to be based and inspired by actual fairy tales. Cinderella, Sleeping Beauty, Snow White, etc.... I won't write so much about the story of Rapunzel (for example) but perhaps how I relate to Rapunzel. I will reference a tall tower or a long braid, almost just hinting at who inspired the poem. Also, some of the keywords will simply be from that era kings, queens, crowns, dragons, moat, swords and armor.

I am open to suggestions if anyone has a favorite fairy tale or references I should consider (poison apple, glass slipper, golden thread, etc...) I am sure there are a number of words I am not even thinking of.

Like the oil painting above? There are a few more here, I got it from this site: http://www.buzzfeed.com/samimain/gorgeous-disney-ladies-as-if-they-were-oil-portraits#2qpit42

Halloween Traditions

Happy Halloween Everyone! The big day is here! I felt my page needed a little holiday update. I am so excited to dress up my little boy in his dragon costume. This will be the first year he can actually walk himself from house to house. Though he only knows about five words I am sure expressions will speak for themselves. A cutey like him is going to get a lot of candy. With my mother-in-law on candy duty, I will be able to walk the block as well and take lots of pictures.

So glad Halloween fell on a Friday. I usually work a half day from skipping lunch all week. There is a pot of soaking beans calling my name at home right now. I figure 1PM to 7PM is a good 6 hours of cooking and we should be able to enjoy a big bowl by the time trick or treating starts.

So today's question is: do I keep my bean stew recipe a secret or "spill the beans"? .... I've never been good at secrets. I just get too excited. My husband gets his Christmas presents the first week of December. So my beans, this will be year number three. How many years before you have a tradition?

Anyways, I take two bags of black beans and soak them overnight, then I rinse and drain them, refill the water and start the pot on the stove set to boil. I settle in a couple of good sized smoke ham hocks, chop up a whole red onion, once it hits a boil I reduce to simmer, and let is stew for hours.

Towards the end I add a few spices and flavors. A little Worcestershire sauce, tablespoon or so of minced garlic, salt, and pepper, all just to taste. This recipe is best kept simple. Oh, and one more thing, I buy a bag of bacon ends crisp them up and throw them on top of my bowl with a little shredded cheddar cheese. That's still simple right? I think so. Ham hock melted off the bone mixed into creamy black beans, there is nothing better on a cold Halloween night, or every night the next week after for that matter. After trick-or-treating we will fire up the fire pit and make some s'mores. Ending the perfect Halloween night.

I am going to do a slam :[

Well, it's official. I have signed up on nanowrimo.org with intent of writing quite a bit next month. Does poetry count for a month designated to novel writing? Probably not, but I think a goal of heavy writing all month is a good idea. It will be refreshing to really get into my current book. I gave myself a deadline for finishing. It has to be ready and published by Valentine's Day 2016. That gives me well over a year, to write, have it edited, some illustrations, and publish. I am excited to see what I come up with this time. Most days, I agree with the quote above. Everyone's poetry is so different from mine. I suppose we are all very different and it just seems like I stand out because it is my own writing.

At the co-book signing I shared the audience with two other writers. We all had a common thread in our writing but were all incredibly different in how we wrote and spoke. I know I haven't followed up on how my first signing went, that is simply because I didn't want to think about it till now. The truth is it was absolutely terrifying. I got myself so worked up with nerves, I am surprised I even got through it. I shook like a leaf, I had a hard time looking up at everyone. It was awful.

On the other hand, I had such support from my family. Sometimes putting yourself out there can really surprise you. They really came through for me.  I think my main issue wasn't just sitting in front of others and reading, it was the intro I had prepared. For the first time ever, I spoke openly about my childhood, about the verbal and emotional abuse I endured and recovered from. I didn't think that would be as difficult as it was. I wonder if there will always be a sense of shame that accompanies that history, or if I will ever truly just accept its happening and be able to speak about it as if I wasn't speaking about myself.... perhaps that is the key to future readings. Pretend I am talking about someone other than myself, but then what would happen to the emotion in the words I am reading?

I guess we will find out. I have decided that I will do a poetry slam in the next month. Listening to the other poet/author, who is a veteran when it comes to slams, I feel I have now an idea of the style and tempo that would be suited for such an event. I thought to myself as I listened to her, "I need something far more gritty than flowers and trees." I have had a little something I thought would be appropriate for a slam and after listening to her I think it will suit very well.

I look forward to your feedback....

It's titled "Triggered"

I doubt myself now

Seems my way is truly lost

For so long you told me who I was

And who I am to be today

I live in this doubt

I question everything I say and do

Nothing is without rhyme or reason

So few are moments of self acceptance

Who is this person you made me to be?

Tell Me! What did you want for me?

Was it truly just to serve you?

Indentured to your every need

Floundering without your voice

Slumped without your backbone

Is this really what you want for me?

To only live as you say

What mother wants this for her child?

What Queen births slaves?

The whip cracked along my back

And scars that still remain

My finger is always on the trigger

It seeks only you and I find you

In every person I meet

And they become my victim

I love them never as you did me

A true love as it is supposed to be

And yet I anticipate that you

Will come creeping out of their mouths

And I am always ready for you

With my finger on the trigger

And then it occurs-it happens

The moment when I think I see you

In an expression or a phrase

I hear your voice. I pull the trigger

…… And shot the one I love

He looks at me in shock

He is appalled that I could do such a thing

He is betrayed

And no longer knows me

I don’t see you now

Your face could not hold such hurt

As one who truly loved me

I only see the pain I caused the one I love

He was never you

Your voice, your way

Never came from him at all

It came from me

I aim with my finger on the trigger.

How do you write about being without love, when you have so much?

Post by Nina C Palmer.

Should Through The Trees become a series?

A question for the readers, I had a thought this morning... Although Through The Trees is a process and every chapter represents a stage of grief, I am considering making each chapter into a chapbook. It would be sold individually for maybe $2.50 and the cover would be the chapter illustrations that I had done (see below) Before I venture into such a project I would love your input as a reader. What do you think? 

Do you judge a book by its cover?

I know we are told not to, but don't we? I certainly do. I glance at all kinds of books and the one I want appeals visually first. I am not sure we can help it. So I went to my publishing site and looked as some templates for covers. Here are two more covers with a little more professionalism to them. Your input really matters to me. To me they both look pretty, but I don't know which one a person would pick up and say "I gotta read this!"

What should my new cover be?

I am working on the cover of my next book Reaching The Castle Wall. A composition of poetry about the love and heartache we enduring trying to find true love. The poetry will make references to well known fairy tales and also just have a flair for fairy tale times like dragons, knights, maidens, and mystical kingdoms. Very excited to start, already have a few under my belt. Working on the cover just makes it start becoming real and inspires me to really get at it. I have found a couple of images I like, but really can't decide. I don't want it to be to busy, but at the same time eye catching and alluring. Which would you just have to pick up? The top one? Or the bottom one?

Are you excited for Halloween?!

The only comfort of such cold weather is the coming holidays. Idaho is in the 40's right now and my still Californian blood has some serious issues with that. You would think after 20 plus years you would acclimate to a climate, but alas, I recall an Autumn in the 60's and a place where oak trees were never bare of their thorny leaves.

Although Thanksgiving and Christmas are great, I have to say that Halloween is my fave. Growing up in the mountains meant no trick or treating. A parent who has the religious outlook similar to Carrie's mother (The movie, of course) meant no dressing up or celebrating whatsoever. I remember two children's books I had one the "real" story of Halloween and the other the "real" story of Easter (yes, the Easter bunny died very early in my youth)

When I became a teen we moved to Idaho, where I now, still, reside. We lived in an actual neighborhood with lots of kids. So this meant Halloween was spent in the dark with all the lights off so that no one would come to our door. I can remember a few "Harvest" parties that our christian church organized. Something for the kids who were deprived of all the fun.

So you can imagine, as an adult, my excitement regarding my independence to do "Whatever the hell I want!" No worries, I did not trick or treat as an adult, but I did dress up EVERY SINGLE YEAR from then on.

Now I have a little one of my own. Last year we threw a big Halloween Trick or Treating party. All the kids came over and went door to door together. I made my traditional black bean with ham hock stew (The best thing I ever ate in cold weather!) I won't make it until Halloween so I can anticipate it for a month before I get to have it. My little one will not even be two yet and still he will be dressed up (as a dragon, too cute) and go with daddy around the neighborhood. At least this year he can walk.

There are just certain memories that I want him. I think I am off to a good start.

A Halloween inspired poem for you all today.....because "I can write about whatever I want! Even Halloween"

Through The Trees Book Trailer

With a little time and effort my book trailer for Through The Trees is finally here. This is a big difference from the poem videos I did. A little research and practice can lead to great things! I am super pleased and I hope everyone likes it!!!

Preparing for Book Signing

I've been thinking lately about my first public book signing coming up next week. I don't know how I missed that I am going to have to speak and read out loud from my book. I pictured myself at a table just handing out my masterpiece. (Wait? It doesn't work that way?)

So I have been think about how I can sum up in a few minutes how my book came to be. What better place to practice then here on my blog. That is what they are for right? So I am going to tell you a story....

I have had toxic relationships in my life since childhood. I grew up with a toxic parent that was emotionally, verbal, and sometimes even physically abusive. The thing about abuse when I was young was that I didn't know what abuse was. I just thought I must be a really bad kid. Even into adulthood the light bulb hadn't gone off yet. What I did know is that I wanted to leave home as soon as possible. Sadly, it wasn't the end of my experience with toxic relationships as one tend to seek what is familiar. It wasn't until my mid twenties that I became aware. Aware of abuse, aware of how I drew it to myself, aware that I could make a change.

It took sometime to start over and build new and healthy relationships. Slowly, but surely I did. Still I would have moments of self doubt, especially when I became pregnant with my son. I was terrified of the parent I would be. Most people think its funny when they repeat something their mother used to say like, "Because I said so" But I was afraid of this happening. My child deserved to have a happy mother, one that was healthy, not only, in body, but also heart and soul.

I realized that I was still harboring a lot of hurt and resentment. I had told myself to let go many times, but never actually did. Because it is not that simple. I wrote when I was younger. It was a way for me to express myself without punishment for speaking my voice. Poetry was like writing in code. I decided that expressing myself is exactly what I need to do to let go for real this time.

So I embarked on a journey. I decided to write out the five stages of grief as it applied to my past relationships. To say and feel everything that I need to say and feel in order to really put it to rest. My theory was that I hadn't allowed myself a process that is natural to our ability to be happy.

We hold onto anger because it masquerades as strength. It has its purpose, it makes us take action, but hold onto it too long and it will turn bitter. Depression, sadness, is NOT weakness. It is apart of the process that allows us to heal. This is what I committed to. I admitted to the times I was in denial, I got mad and let myself move on to sadness. I grieved, not the loss of a person, but of the relationship I hoped and needed it to be. I embraced acceptance. After fifteen poems of telling myself to let it go, I believe I have.

Publishing my work was an equal part of this process. I am taking a stand against abuse. I am shedding myself of the guilt that comes with it. I am speaking out in hope that others will follow. My book is so that you to can heal. That you can know that you are not alone. This is not a step by step that tells you what to do. It is an emotional escort that walks you through a journey that, I hope, can change your life.

Psychologytoday.com Just reviewed my book! What an honor!

http://www.psychologytoday.com/collections/201410/friend-first-sight/healing-toxic-relationship

I am over the moon excited today! Dr Heitler, Phd and author just reviewed and recommended my book on Psychologytoday.com! It is amazing to have someone so accredited look at my work and see how it can help others. I am so thankful and truly honored.

Here are the books that Dr Heitler has published.

The Power of Two: Secrets of a Strong and Loving Marriage

The Power of Two Workbook: Communication Skills for a Strong & Loving Marriage
David Decides About Thumbsucking: A Story for Children, a Guide for Parents 
Depression A Disorder of Power
Anxiety Friend or Foe?

Autumn Leaves

Facebook voted for pic #2: Which do you prefer?

The Maple Tree Queen

Twitter voted for pic one...

Autumn Inspired Poetry

Today actually feels like the beginning of autumn. Crisp morning, sunny and comfortable afternoon. The changing season is such an inspiration to a nature poet like myself. What shall today's writing prompt be today? Number one or number two?

Someday

Time to start working on the next project. My next book title is "Reaching the Castle Wall" poetry based on finding love. From love at first sight to the first kiss, and heartache as well as finding true love, I want to encompass the entire journey of finding that one someone who makes you happy.

Someday

“Someday I will go there.”  He says to himself,

“Someday with time and quite a bit of wealth.”

But he can dream of this wonderful someday

How else does it come to be, this “someday”?

What is a dream? If it not a lofty plan?

To what one can do, be he a courageous man

So we gather our pennies this courageous man and I

And set to dreaming of where we can fly

It will be years if not decades for us reach

The land afar with a white sandy beach

But once we go we could not be caught

In just one place to which we plot

No, the dream is a just gateway

Just a single step into a doorway

And from a dream it will birth such a life

That no one could fathom no matter the strife

One place will lead to another

An endless world of adventurous wonder

And my courageous man will lead me

And I- I will follow him freely

Hand in hand, in a distant land

Finally arriving to where we planned

An adventure awaits us and we are on our way

To a place we dreamed and called “Someday”

Time for some real blogging

Well, I am pretty sure I have promoted myself here enough. Or perhaps it is never done. Today I just feeling like talking. Still about authoring a book, but really, just an honest moment over the entire experience.

If anyone is listening I hope it reaches someone in similar shoes so you may feel like you are not the only one to endure the promotional aspects of writing a book. I have to admit, I did think this would be a lot easier and a lot less work! I thought writing the book itself was the hard part. And it was I put so much into it. Really commit to each stage of grief, feeling everything.

So here I am self published. I didn't even know that it was an undesirable trait for a book. All I really know is that Idaho has nothing for literary agents and publishers. Perhaps, I should switch gears and becoming a literary agent. There is certainly a demand in my area. Geesh! And as far as self published authors go, I didn't realize what a giant pool I was jumping into. I am one small fish with my little poetry book.

Ideas of grandeur are certainly coming into reality. Partly I know that this is just impatience. I have taken steps and now I know I just need to wait. Not really in my DNA. Next month my book will be reviewed by our local paper, OK that's good. And also next month I have a co-book signing, also good. But both are local. I know that is good, but I had ideas of great. Build Facebook and Twitter and followers here on this blog, you know, like "if you build it they will come" OK that dates me a bit. But you get the idea. Field of Dreams said that I think before the internet. It more like if you build it a million other people already have. OK so I am having a moment of pessimism. Sue me.

So I am telling myself a new mantra today. I love mantras, they do work I think. I am telling myself "Great things happen to me everyday" And now, I am waiting again. Tick, tock, something great, are you out there? I'm ready.

I contacted a Ebook guru courtesy of my local Author Association I joined, very helpful people. Hopefully here very soon my kindle version will be improved. I intend on using Smashwords, but everything I have tried with this Ebook is an epic fail. Ebook formatting is not for the faint of heart. When it is done my book will be on kindle, nook, and a lot of others. In the meantime, I will sit patiently and wait for my book review and book signing. I have sent out a few emails to literary agents that are no where near Idaho in an attempt to reach out and get help with this monster I created. No bites yet.

On the plus side, I added a few very nice reviews from Amazon. Seems my book is not completely hidden in the haystack of other books.

OK venting is over and that feels much better. I hope someone relates. Or maybe has survived this phase and has wonderful words of encouragement!

The Sun and The Vine by Nina C. Palmer

The Raining by Nina C Palmer

Very first review! I'm Beaming!

Hyde Park Bookstore Co-Book Signing Event

On Saturday, October 18th from 7PM to 9PM Hyde Park Book Store will be hosting a three author event.

This quaint little book store is nestled in the heart of Boise's North End in Hyde Park at 1507 N. 13th St. Looking forward to meeting everyone and I am honored to sign a book for you!

Local authors to be at signing:

Nina C. Palmer, author of Through the Trees
Samantha Jean Whitaker, author of Bomb Shelters and Butterflies
Mara Hargroder, author of Letters I'd Wished I'd Found

Check out all three books on their website www.hydeparkbooks.net. The best part is, if you order online, books are only $1 to ship!

Through The Trees Book Release

It has been a year in the making and finally it is here. My book, Through The Trees, is finally available for purchase at amazon.com (click here)

I say a "year in the making" but really it is a "lifetime in the making" that brought this book into existence. I hope that it is loved by poetry lovers and book lovers, alike. But mostly, I wrote this book for specific reason. I have endured a great deal of hurt in my life. I reached a point when I was willing to do whatever it takes to move on and be the happy person I knew I could be. This book began as a cathartic process. Using poetry I allowed myself to remember, to go back through my past hurts and experience each and every stage of grief. I moved past denial, I let go of anger, I let myself by sad, and finally I accepted. Everything I held in for the sake of being strong.. I let go.

Publishing this book is the final step I had to take to really become free. By making my words, emotions, and heartache, available to all, it releases me from the guilt, shame, and fear that I have been carrying. It is my true hope that this book reaches those who have been hurt by someone they love, someone who has endured a toxic relationship, someone who cannot seem to move on.

My intent in publishing this work is to convey to others that they are not alone. That love and hope are possible and tangible to those who seek it.

About Through The Trees: Take a walk through the trees, a poetically written journey of nature and metaphor. Experience a wilderness that comes alive with a hauntingly enchanting spirit. We all have or will experience the heartache at the end of a relationship. It could be with a friend, a love, or even someone from our own family. We grieve all the same. This humble book of poetry is a journey of healing. Each chapter represents a stage of grief. The writer touches the hurting soul in a most compassionate way with artful words that are deeply vulnerable and true to the experience of loss. Challenge yourself to deep self reflection as you take a journey through denial, anger, depression, bargaining, and finally acceptance. May you find your way out of the woods and finally be able to see the forest through the trees.

The Sun and the Vine

~From Through The Trees: Chapter 5 Acceptance

A shadow creeps onto the wall capturing the sun’s rays.
The vine shivers in the cold and for the light it prays.
The vine reaches up to the sun calling its name aloud.
The shadow stands still, the shadow of a cloud.


“Sun! Sun!” cries the vine, “Give me back the light!”
It withers with a sorrow and calmly comes the night.
The clouds collide with others; their thunder chases the wind
The vine looks up with hope, only rain the cloud did send.


In the coming morning, dew set upon its leaves.
The vine stands still, it cries and it grieves.
The sun looks down upon it with confusion in its eyes,
“Why do you cry, my vine? Didn't you know that I would rise?”

The vine looks up with a dewy tear,
“My sun when you are away, I truly fear.
You left me to the cold of the night.
Without you I am filled with such a fright.”

“My vine, do not fear. I raised you from a seed,
I would never leave your side and will provide what you need.
You may fear when I am gone each and every night.
But, my dearest vine, I tell you,

You need the dark and rain as much as you need my light.”

Moment in the Night

~ From Through the Trees: Chapter 4 Bargaining

In the deep woods far from many lights

The stars fill the sky like frothy milk .

The scent of Alyssum sweet as honey in the night

Is draping the ground like soft white silk.

All can be seen in the moon’s brightness

Illuminating everything within its scope

Casting starlight onto the lake’s surface

And glistening blades of grass on the hill slopes.

The night appearing to be so gently calm

All life it holds seems to be in peace

And after such turbulent ventures

There is relief in such attainable ease.

I feel a sense of safety in this night

It as if tonight alone was called in truce,

So without foreboding I might freely roam

Passing through realms of bitter spruce.

Glaring eyes are held in the caves

And sneering mouths are tightly bound

Passage is granted for the night

For the moment I am safe and sound.

I cannot see the lurking monsters

Only the night’s beauty is lit by moon.

It is in these moments that I wonder

If I cast judgment far too harsh and too soon.

I realize now that I have found sweet content

This calm night is how I had wished it to be seen

For in this journey there is so much I could resent

But now I see beyond its smoky screen.

Within me I am stirred by a hopeful presence

I release it with a sigh from wakeless bliss.

I see far into the forest’s eye and find fortune

To have known a moment such as this.

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Copyright © Nina C. Palmer 2014. All rights reserved.