Grief, Life, Stories, Writing

Memoir Update – Signed Publishing Agreement!

It’s official!

*Note: Working title and not actual cover.

Exciting news!!! I have signed a publishing and distribution agreement with Christian Faith Publishing for my memoir. I submitted my manuscript to their review board, they accepted the draft and want to publish my book. Woo-hoo! 😁

Signing the agreement with my daughter!
  • It has been a long journey for sure to get to this point, never stop chasing your dreams!
  • Expected publication date is still to be determined, sometime in early 2021.
  • Lots to be done before then – editing, proofing, typesetting, cover design etc.

I have been busy drafting my author bio and the book blurb. That is harder than writing the actual book. Who knew? 😳

Book teaser >

When did we come to believe the best thing you can do with death is ride off from it? In Cowboys Are Not Supposed To Cry, Mark Wayne tells his story of living a life with grief beginning in his mid-twenties. #Memoir #AmWriting #UpcomingBook #WritersLife

I hope to post some excerpts from the forthcoming book as I go through the editing process as well as other updates here on the blog. So be sure to hit the follow button and sign up for email notifications to get the latest.

*Note: Working title and not actual cover.

I would love to hear your initial impressions or thoughts. Your feedback is greatly appreciated and will help guide efforts as I move forward in publishing and marketing.

#LiveYourDreams

Poetry

Two Doors

I found myself standing before two doors.
Tall and strong they stood.
Above each door hung a small sign.
In simple script one read,
Joy and Sorrow
And the other,
Pleasure and Pain
Hesitatingly, I approached to peer through the small peephole of each door.
In shock I gasped, astounded by what I see.
Each room holds a mass of the most wondrous sights shining brightly.
And horrible grotesque ugly things I had never dreamed could be.
This was an odd assortment of characters,
some that glowed in beauty untold and others that reeked of evil misery.
The uproarious laughter and joy of some shone pure grace and mercy.
In stark contrast to the wretched screams of those who writhed in pain unceasingly.
Easily my decision was made, I reached for the doorknob with a shaking hand.
With a pounding heart and no regret,
I slowly turned the knob of my chosen door,
the one less used,

and to borrow words from Mr. Frost,
that has made all the difference.

~Mark Schutter ©2015

By Michal Osmenda from Brussels, Belgium (blue and red doors Uploaded by russavia) [CC BY-SA 2.0 (http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/2.0)], via Wikimedia Commons
By Michal Osmenda from Brussels, Belgium (blue and red doors Uploaded by russavia) [CC BY-SA 2.0 (http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/2.0)%5D, via Wikimedia Commons

Adventure, Art, Writing

Dreaming a Dream

As I walked into the room, my fear and apprehension covered me like an invisible cloak.  Heads turned as the door snapped closed behind me.  My presence now known, I forced a smile I hoped hid my unease.  Smiles were returned by the few gathered there, welcoming me with what appeared to be genuine warmth.  My eyes searched until I spotted her at the far side of the room.  Standing with two friends she had been talking but the conversation had stopped when I entered.  She was looking directly at me as our eyes locked.  I thought I saw a spark of light flit from her eyes not sure if that was only my wishful thinking.

 My legs felt heavy but with a concentrated effort and an unnoticed deep breath I started across the room towards her.  She stood still her long blonde hair hanging down gracefully just past her shoulders.  She was wearing a simple flower print sleeveless cotton dress that hung loosely but also clung to her body in only the right places to accentuate her most stunning features.  As I approached the color in her eyes seemed to become brighter.  The blue-green of her eyes shone brightly like pure ocean water reflecting soft ripples caused by the breeze.  I was not sure exactly why she had invited me here but I knew that she would be here so I had come.  Our relationship had slowly begun to grow into a friendship solid in its foundation and beautiful like the opening of a rose.

 I could feel others staring as I walked hiding my uncertainty as I was unknown to most in the room but my eyes were locked on hers.  It was as if she was a lighthouse beacon guiding me home in the dark.  As I approached she easily disengaged from her two friends and slid gracefully away calling me with only her eyes to follow her.  She walked down a long hall and I followed, walking through a doorway and entering into a simple yet tastefully decorated room.  It appeared to be a guest room of sorts with a bed and furnishings for overnight guests.

 Kicking off her sandals she easily climbed onto the bed, sitting sideways and propping herself on her left elbow and hip with her legs stretched casually to the right.  I immediately noticed the tanned smooth brown skin of her legs as they extended from under the folds of her dress in an artistic display.  Her countenance was relaxed and self-assured, a confidence reflected in her movements.  She knew she was attractive but never used that as a weapon to control others nor allowed it to make her proud.  Her sense of acceptance and belief in herself made her all the more attractive to a misguided world who often did not understand her.

 I walked to the edge of the bed her eyes never unlocking their hold on me.  I hesitatingly reached my hand towards her and lightly traced my finger from her ankle up the side of her calf to just past her knee as if reaching for forbidden fruit.  She never flinched only continued to smile as I marveled at the simply physical beauty and perfection.

Her arms were tanned and brown as well reflecting an almost ethereal glow.  With her right arm which had been resting on her hip she reached towards my hand clasping her fingers in my own and gently pulling me towards her.  Our lips met in a passionate softness as she kissed me without reservation in a way that held me in the gentleness and strength of the moment making my heart race.  Her kiss lingered on my lips as we parted and I stared into the eternity of color in her eyes.  I felt for the moment my destiny was assured.

Looking down at my hands I saw the scars and age of the years, each line and wrinkle held the stories of my life.  I sat back in the chair and wondered at the thought of memories past and future, while knowing that dreams are a prophecy of what was and is to come.  I rocked slowly back and forth as the minutes ticked by, recalling the dream knowing that all was well and I was right where I belonged.

Maleko ©2013

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The above writing was inspired by a recent dream; I will let you decide who the woman and the man are in the story. What are your dreams? ~M