The Hospital & PTSD

I never knew America could ruin my emotional well-being to such a degree. I live in fear when it comes to my children, and I’m sick and tired of the northeast – New Jersey and Pennsylvania – and the surrounding states.

Don’t get me wrong. It’s beautiful out here, but that applies only to the land. I’m hesitant to say that about the people I have to deal with, and definitely not a shred of the politics. I am also sick and tired of the west coast as well – places like California and Colorado – who with all their people of Holier-Than-Thou concepts and laws have corporations as dirty as the Drug Cartels.

Actually, I think the Drug Cartels may still be more upstanding than these corporations. And they have better healthcare and benefits than we do by about a thousand times…

*deep breath*

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Life Doesn’t Have “Safe Words”…

I have the world’s largest headache as I write this. I had three hours of sleep last night, stressful sleep the night before that, and I keep wondering what it is I’m supposed to be doing. Should be doing. And how to push back.

Against family.

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Writing Prompt #3

Today’s priority is errands, so without enough time to truly ponder anymore specific details of the stories I’m working on, it’ll be an impromptu “Writing Prompt” exercise again.

I think some of you have been enjoying my writing prompts. 🙂

Today’s topic will be: Million Dollar Question – Why do you blog?

My blog is like my bookshelves. It is a collection of things I have finished between the hours spent performing my various duties – wife, mother, daughter, and sister. Writer, unfortunately, comes last, but that is because I write for myself.

I usually come last on my list of priorities. Please do not automatically think that makes me a “selfless person.” It is, in fact, quite the opposite.

Getting back on topic… since I’m rather infamous on detours. XD

If one was to look at the schedules of every person that live on this planet, one can safely say, in general, that schedules are pretty standard to each person. We may not all do the same things at the same time, but we all do things that are similar – sleep, eat (hopefully as many parts of the world are shrouded in famine and starvation), learn (again, in hopes because we know parts of the world are also torn asunder from violence and oppression), and tend to our daily responsibilities as a person – employee, grandparent, parent, aunt/uncle, child, sibling, cousins, etc.

It isn’t any different for me, and as days turn into weeks, weeks into months… I came to realize that even with all the thoughts that are randomly concocted, scribbled down, and stuck in a notebook somewhere, there was nothing to show for them.

While I am both a sun and moon Pisces, even dreams must have results.

By keeping a blog, or journal since I was about thirteen, it served as a reminder all the things I have thought about, the opinions of certain topics and debates I held at the time, and just how much my thoughts and personal opinions may have changed… if there were, indeed, changes.

It also taught and showed me what I felt passionate about. Unless something was vitally important for me to dwell on it for an extended amount of time, the words don’t make it onto paper… and that is such an important exercise to do on the road to self-discovery regardless of what age I was at!

Children these days have mediums like Tumblr, Twitter, Facebook, Reddit, Instagram, etc to occupy their minds. It’s not that difficult to re-blog or re-link something “interesting,” but the understanding behind “why one found it interesting” is lost.

Why does one follow a certain person? Why is that post meaningful? What critical thinking does it spur? Will you feel the same way about the topic or subject a year from now? Five years? Ten years? If you become a parent?

There isn’t really an effort in clicking a button with a mouse, but to pick up a pen or pencil, open up a book to a fresh page, and follow the process of putting thought down on paper?

Now, that’s important. Just the act alone speaks volumes, and once added to the words that do make it on paper… it is an epiphany.

Moreover, seeing the end product of a project – whether it’s a story, memoir, or just odd pieces I put together based on personal experiences – I also understand the amount of time that went into the formation and work of each. In a sense, there’s the feeling of accomplishment – seeing the tiny spark of an idea grew into shape and form, molded, torn apart, re-molded, and the debuting of the finished product.

Just that thought alone is enough to send shivers of pleasure down my spine. 😀

That meant my days aren’t just filled with chores from one day to the next, and that reminder serves to help keep my depression at bay. It means I have accomplished something outside of obligations and responsibilities. So when it’s thunder-storming outside, or the allergens are too much for my system to handle even with the help of drugs… this blog, and any other I may keep, is a physical display of the things I’ve done.

It’s not anything special. They’re not trophies, or the classics that I am (incapable of) writing. I am not some talented fiction writer with a fan base, but there is nothing more demeaning than realizing that I have wiled and wasted precious time I will never get back.

Trust me, that realization comes even more of a shock as a parent. Seeing how much a child can grow from the first year to the second, to the third, fourth, fifth, and until they hit the teenaged years… it’s easy to feel under accomplished as an adult.

So I write, and I blog, and when my children are old enough to understand… I have something to show them and teach them with – let them know just who one of their parents is/was.

There is one other reason that I keep this blog.

❤ My life partner. ❤

For whatever reason, there are numerous people out there who feel that their “other half” should miraculously obtain ESP when he/she gets into a relationship. My husband and I often joke about this because I can read his mind 80% of the time, and he can read mine on odd days and even hours… but that comes from knowing your significant other. That comes from both parties making communication one of the top priorities. It comes from one party writing a mountain worth of stuff and sorting it in a blog while the other writes extensive emails…

… He has sent me emails that exceed 10k words a few times, and I have replied in kind.

On the days we don’t click quite so closely, we have a favorite phase to use to remind the other that “mind reading” isn’t real.

“Sorry, darling, the ESP is in my other pair of pants, and those needed to be washed.”

I don’t expect my life partner to know what I’m thinking. It shouldn’t be a guessing game. It shouldn’t be a one way street where the other party makes 100% of the effort when I don’t communicate. How many relationships do you know have failed because of this?

I know of quite a few. 😦

He shouldn’t have the expectation to know what’s in my head. So I share my thoughts here in answer to his question “What’s with the thousand-yard stare?” and the ever popular phrase “a penny for your thoughts…” Want to see someone come to truly understand you and love you for who you are?

Well, be honest, keep a blog, work on it, and it just might surprise you.

While I may have some unexplainable, awesome sense of intuition working for me, it doesn’t mean the rest of the world does. I use my powers carefully and for good… whenever applicable. For the parts that aren’t…

Well, you’re reading my blog, aren’t you? 😉

⭐ ⭐ ⭐

Please have a fantabulous day, everyone. It is raining here in New Jersey, but I enjoy the rain. It’s Mother Nature’s version of a shower, and the air could use it.

❤ ❤ ❤

Lavender Wynter

Writer’s Ramblings

Happy TUESDAY, for those of you into Tuesdays – yours truly included whenever there is NCIS, which the writers, directors, and actors completely rocked the New Orleans chapters in the last two episodes. Kudos to the whole team. I sincerely HOPE there WILL BE a NCIS: New Orleans for me to look forward to in the future.

*is an NCIS addict*

It is more than a week into April, and the rains have started. I do enjoy the rain, and somewhat dreary days where it feels all right to take a step back, sip at a cup of hot chocolate, and just remind myself that while Lady Winter has officially departed for the rest of the year, there will at least be plenty of flowers to look forward to for a couple of weeks…

… If the pollen doesn’t kill me first. I’m already having trouble breathing, again.

G’lord Almighty…

(No, I’m not religious or Christian, but I have lived in the south for about, oh, six-point-five very long years. I swear to the powers-that-be *that* is the most common phrase I hear, and naturally picked it up, right next to “ya’ll” – complete with the twang, my husband claims.)

I am looking into air purifiers for the house, one armed with a UV light for all the bugs my two children bring back ever-so-excitedly from school and decided that SHARING said germs is, in fact, the best policy.

Nothing says “I love you” like breathing it through a Darth Vader mask, me thinks.


HEPA filter or Permanent HEPA-type filter? Pros/Cons? If anyone has experience on this, please, PLEASE, send me an email! Much appreciated!

❤ ❤ ❤

I have taken to working on my fiction through Google Docs so I can bounce between the computers in this house, my laptop, and my iPad whenever the mood strikes or spare time shows itself. Since I’m usually up at 6am, often earlier than that, I find myself about ready to pass out by, say 9 at night, and it seemed awfully ridiculous to take my laptop to bed with me when I might only ever get something like fifty words down before passing out.

So while typing with a single finger on an iPad on-screen keyboard is seriously putting a kink in my style, it’s actually working out far better in the long run than trying to kill myself to get a couple of good hours in at the laptop.

Especially when we all know that when those words won’t come, they won’t come, no matter how long or hard you stare at that blinking cursor.

And as much as I love working in Microsoft Word, that little word counter at the bottom left hand side of my screen drives me absolutely bonkers when I start on a new document. I’m fine when it’s reading 6k+ words, but getting to that point while it’s keeping count makes me want to tear my hair out.

With curlers. Not that I own any.

It’s really like losing weight. If I keep weighing myself every day in hopes of seeing results, it tends to completely rip all the air from beneath my wings and I fall like a rock into a place-not-very-nice… depression.

Hang on, side note… speaking of losing weight…

A piece of advice on the diet front. Don’t use a scale. I tried that. Failed miserably. Judge by how loose your clothes fit. Seriously. Makes the whole process so much more humane.

So now I just keep writing on Google Doc (which also allows me to add my muse to the document so he can tag along and tell me “I thought we talked about this. You know better. It doesn’t happen this way” in the comments section whenever I’m writing about something technical – like chemistry reactions and picking locks or firing a weapon) and export to .DOCX if I wanted a word count to project how many words a certain story is going to take.


I just want to take a moment to thank someone I met online last year when I came across her fanfiction works in February 2013. I found her through the Naruto fandom, and loved her stories so much, I actually read Bleach just to read her Bleach fanfics. She’s responsible for turning me onto the series and loving it as much as I do (more so than Naruto, to be honest with you). I back-read her older journal entries, learned that she is a parent, works, and still manages to find time to write as much as she did/does. Unbelievably impressed, I emailed her on LiveJoural with the question of “How?”

How do you find the time to write so much? I have two kids, I don’t have a job, and I can barely find time to think, much less write!

Her reply was something along the lines of, “If you want it enough, you’ll find the time.”

Which led to me looking at my husband one morning as he made our coffees and saying, “I want to get back to writing, and I don’t care what I have to do, but I’m going to get back into it, and I need your help.”

Seven months down the road, after the hurt that happened to me in “Break Me into Pieces,” and nearly seven months of discussions and trial-and-errors with the schedule with my children who were not in school (but were in the process of getting into pre-K programs) and the consistent urging and support from my biggest fan (my husband)… I began this journey again.

With liberal use of band-aids, antiseptic wipes, and gauze… because trial-and-error always leads to some form of accident. XD

But by golly, did it feel good. 🙂

My first piece of finished (fan)fiction in over seven years was “Asking Nicely” which took place right after “A Little Help?” by Stark (Tumblr / LiveJournal) who gave her permission and blessings. In the middle of writing that horrible first attempt spawned the fanfiction one-shot “Love Me.”

Then my husband suggested writing about my experiences with the uglier side of parenting that saw me embarking on the journey to push “Break Me into Pieces” into existence in the literary field. I came away with the feeling that I’ll never write a memoir again… ever.

❤ XD ❤

Closet Souls Chornicles took over from there and is flourishing. There may be an honorary Stark-inspired character in there (just all depends if Stark has an opinion or not) complete with an ability of her own. I’ll just have to figure out what that ability would be first. There are simply so many to choose from!

That’s my way of thanks, Stark, for the small messages of encouragement that got me this far despite life having it in for a few of us. 🙂

And to the husband who gave me the ability to do the near-impossible, to keep telling me that my writing doesn’t suck quite as much as I think it does, to believe in me when I couldn’t believe in myself… and still don’t on most days, and to take our rugrats under his lonesome wings when I would disappear into a bedroom for hours at a time in my efforts to find myself amongst the words again…

Thank you. None of this would have been possible without you. Others might have lent a hand in the inspiration department, but you’re the foundation and the motivation that made it possible. ❤


You know, I keep telling myself that I’m not a hopeless romantic, so finding proof to the contrary is rather… chewy. If that made any sense.

Anyhow, have I bored all of you enough yet? =)


There should be a second post coming, however. I think I’ll tackle another one of those “365 days of writing” prompts today.


❤ from Yours Truly, Lavender Wynter.

“Break Me into Pieces” Chapter 3

No, it was a threat. More than that, it was a promise.


This is it, the last intallment of the memoir — “Break Me into Pieces.”

I had not expected this thing to turn into a novella. This section is about 9,000 words, and that brings the whole story together to just under 30,000 words. I feel like I’ve written about ten times that, to be honest, because this journey has been absolutely draining.

But it is finished. And I have to say I’ll probably never venture into this again. I’ll stick with fiction, thanks.

There were more tears being dripped onto my keyboard on this last segment than the second one, believe it or not, because I had to face the questions that had been sealed in desperation.

My most humble thanks and gratitude to those who have helped me on this journey – whether it’s by being there for me, reading what I wrote, sharing it with others, or just a simple email and/or comment that passed on sympathy and love.

So, without further ado, “Break Me into Pieces”.


Much, much love — Lavender Wynter

“Break Me into Pieces” Chapter 2

This isn’t about the facts, I reminded myself. It’s about how the facts are interpreted.

Hi Folks,

I am sticking my foot outside my Cave of Everlasting Silence to bring you the second installment (out of three) of the memoir — “Break Me into Pieces.”

I hope all of you didn’t find the first installment too tedious to wade through. This one is longer at over 12,000 words, but the whole story really was about the interaction between DYFS and myself.

We won’t talk about my annoying habit of being overly wordy.


So, without further ado, “Break Me into Pieces”.

The last installment will hopefully get posted on the 22nd.

*Crosses fingers*

Last, BUT NOT LEAST, I just wanted to thank those of you who have read the story. Some of you even passed it on. Others have emailed with very kind words.

You have my most humble thanks and gratitude for helping me on this journey.


Much, much love — Lavender Wynter

Spring is Arriving

As I walked my children to their buses this morning, I noticed that trees, and some plants, are starting to have new buds on their branches.

That means Lady Spring is arriving, and Lady Winter is on her way back to her dwelling. I cannot help but feel a little bit down from the realization. I love the coldest season of the year, and if snow would drift from the skies, so much the better…

I just dislike the half-inch to two inches drift. Give me minimum of six inches or don’t do it at all.

Perhaps I should think about moving to southern Ontario, huh? More snow there than I think I can handle, and one of my good buddies live out that way.

So, Wynter, does this post mean you’re off “Hiatus?”

No, I’m still on hiatus. While the children are finally on the upclimb from the two+ months worth of tag-teaming sickness, I need some time to just recuperate from all that since I’m sick myself, and as of this morning, so is the Husband.

After all, with antibiotics being involved (again), there are more pediatric appointments set for the near future, plus meetings with teachers at the school with the kids, and a myriad of other motherly things I’m scheduled for.

Noticed I said motherly. That is about as far on the opposite spectrum for me as it can get from writer-ly (which isn’t even a word).

But I’m finding a little bit of time to get my writing in – which is whenever the children actually goes off to school and didn’t leave me with a mountain of laundry to wash and an entire house to clean up (which is what happens when they’ve been home the entire week). The memoir pieces are moving along. Part 2 has been minimally edited and set to release this upcoming Saturday (March 15) at 8am EST. I’m still working on the final part, but I can’t write on the same thing back-to-back. Since I covered some ground yesterday, I’ll go back to it tomorrow.

I still have the Closet Souls to get back to, and two fanfiction pieces to finish, books to re-read and review, so…

*glares at Inner Muse* … everything else is on the backseat, you hear?

*sighs at the evil cackling* See? She’s mocking me in multiple languages again.

My inner Muse aside, an author I’ve been following by the name of A. F. Henley had re-tweeted on his account about Less Than Three Press’s call for anthology submissions to Lovely, Dark, and Deep that will end August 31, 2014.

And that triggered all sorts of thoughts, that has, unfortunately, been entirely too enticing and making it nearly impossible for me to sleep well lately. Not that I sleep well most nights anyway.

There is a reason I don’t write or read horror anymore. My insomnia from nightmares doesn’t need help from outside sources, and it’s not as if I haven’t dreamed the 1001 ways that I can possibly be killed or eradicated from this plane of existence…

And just in case anyone thinks I’m getting published…

I’m not. A hobby writer like me who needs about three more years of sandblasting the rust off my writing instruments has the same chance of competing with people of published authors’ calibers as a snowball’s chance in hell of surviving.

(Did you understand that?)

Unless Hell freezes over. It’s not impossible, but it is up there on the scale of “improbable.”

Doesn’t mean I won’t think about writing a story, though. I’m just not entirely sure I can survive the process.


Anyhow, here’s the update for those of you who might be wondering if I’m still alive and kicking.

The answer is yes.

Take care of yourselves. Much love.