Good morning.
What's wrong with my life?
How do I feel?
What should I change?
Better get on that, holy shit.
You seem to have it all together.
A lot of people seem to have it all together.
One-on-one, no one has ever told me they have it all together.
Maybe I'm OK just how I am.
Maybe you're OK just how you are.
Hey, I love butterflies.
C.A. MacConnell
4/17/2024
4/16/2024
Me, April 24.
Hi there. Pretty much what I look like when I'm working. So, this is pretty much how I look, because I'm always working! Seven days a week, I do deliveries and when I'm not doing that, I'm sleeping, walking and planning stories, taking pictures, or writing. This is my favorite hat, because I have a huge head, and it actually fits! I'd like about ten of the same hats, different colors, but I have yet to find another that's as comfy.
I do love Blind Melon, but not as much as some other bands; however, I particularly like the "Soup" album, which is definitely genius. Most people only know the first, self-titled one, but "Soup" is ridiculously awesome. An absolute gem. They've had a new singer for a long time, and he's kind, friendly, and talented as well.
There are a ton of talented people out there. Just depends on who gets promoted. I did music writing for eight years. Mostly local, but some national too. I met so many artists, and many of them were ultra-talented, hiding right out in the open, so to speak. A few names pop right up in my mind, the ones who "stood out." I'll keep it to myself but for sure, some are secret superstars just writing tunes, hanging out, having breakfast in their kitchens, later writing amazing tunes that may or may not get little to no circulation.
I am honored to know many of them.
Have a good day. Love to you,
C.A. MacConnell
P.S. Shout out to Chanell, Nay, and the women of Madisonville, who are kind, strong, and supportive. Shout out to Shawntell, who makes me smile every day. <3
I do love Blind Melon, but not as much as some other bands; however, I particularly like the "Soup" album, which is definitely genius. Most people only know the first, self-titled one, but "Soup" is ridiculously awesome. An absolute gem. They've had a new singer for a long time, and he's kind, friendly, and talented as well.
There are a ton of talented people out there. Just depends on who gets promoted. I did music writing for eight years. Mostly local, but some national too. I met so many artists, and many of them were ultra-talented, hiding right out in the open, so to speak. A few names pop right up in my mind, the ones who "stood out." I'll keep it to myself but for sure, some are secret superstars just writing tunes, hanging out, having breakfast in their kitchens, later writing amazing tunes that may or may not get little to no circulation.
I am honored to know many of them.
Have a good day. Love to you,
C.A. MacConnell
P.S. Shout out to Chanell, Nay, and the women of Madisonville, who are kind, strong, and supportive. Shout out to Shawntell, who makes me smile every day. <3
4/15/2024
Photo. And some words about THE HOLE.
Took this photo with a friend in mind. He worked with me. Daily, we cut it up in the milk cooler. In case you didn't know, other than the freezers and bathrooms, the milk cooler is the only place in supermarkets where there aren't cameras. If no one found us, we couldn't get in trouble for wasting company time. So, we'd hide out there. Eventually, someone would call our names over the store speaker system, but we usually got away with it for a while. Literally, just as in car dealerships, in groceries, nearly everywhere you go, there's a camera. At most dealerships, the only place there's not a camera is the bathroom. And at some dealerships I've worked in, there's someone monitoring the cameras 24/7 at their home. No lie. Ultra creepy. More cameras than a jewelry store. Eyes everywhere.
Honestly, we both worked our asses off most of the time anyway, so it didn't really matter. These interactions eventually inspired me to write THE HOLE. He got a kick out of the whole idea, and he gave me a lot of info about dairy, stocking, and such. The real interactions were hilarious most days, and he was a sweet, sharply smart, kind friend. I miss him; he left this world a few years ago.
But the book turned into something different altogether -- an intense psychological thriller; you'll see some of his dark humor and sharp wit creep out from time to time, but that's pretty much it, because it took a wild turn from there. That's the way it usually works with my writing. I'll get inspired, but the rest comes out of the ether, a.k.a. my ridiculous brain. I love creating dialogue and slipping in humor when people would least expect it. I also love when horror films use this tactic.
If you haven't read THE HOLE, you're missing out. It's a page-turner, and I did an immense amount of research to develop my characters, especially Zion Makeda, who was my favorite to write. Actually, his character is far from my personal experience, although you'll see a bit of me creep in there, as he deals with some intense anxiety issues, and I do as well. For good reason...both of us have had heavy outside stress going on. I fell in love with all of these characters while I was writing. Sometimes I do.
Here's my Amazon Author Page, for all the info.
Most people experience anxiety, in varying degrees, I've noticed. Although, I have a neighbor that seems to float around even keel. I asked her about it, and she said that she's always been that way, just floating around, ha.
Hope you get a chance to read THE HOLE. Not only is it a fast-paced psych thriller, it's also deep as hell and sometimes funny. Check it out.
Honestly, we both worked our asses off most of the time anyway, so it didn't really matter. These interactions eventually inspired me to write THE HOLE. He got a kick out of the whole idea, and he gave me a lot of info about dairy, stocking, and such. The real interactions were hilarious most days, and he was a sweet, sharply smart, kind friend. I miss him; he left this world a few years ago.
But the book turned into something different altogether -- an intense psychological thriller; you'll see some of his dark humor and sharp wit creep out from time to time, but that's pretty much it, because it took a wild turn from there. That's the way it usually works with my writing. I'll get inspired, but the rest comes out of the ether, a.k.a. my ridiculous brain. I love creating dialogue and slipping in humor when people would least expect it. I also love when horror films use this tactic.
If you haven't read THE HOLE, you're missing out. It's a page-turner, and I did an immense amount of research to develop my characters, especially Zion Makeda, who was my favorite to write. Actually, his character is far from my personal experience, although you'll see a bit of me creep in there, as he deals with some intense anxiety issues, and I do as well. For good reason...both of us have had heavy outside stress going on. I fell in love with all of these characters while I was writing. Sometimes I do.
Here's my Amazon Author Page, for all the info.
Most people experience anxiety, in varying degrees, I've noticed. Although, I have a neighbor that seems to float around even keel. I asked her about it, and she said that she's always been that way, just floating around, ha.
Hope you get a chance to read THE HOLE. Not only is it a fast-paced psych thriller, it's also deep as hell and sometimes funny. Check it out.
Well, I'm gonna work for a short while. ;) <3. Glad you're here.
Love to you.
C.A. MacConnell
4/14/2024
4/13/2024
Air 3. And Some Words.
Yesterday, I photobombed a promotional picture they're going to use for a certain ultra-popular supermarket chain -- the most popular, a mammoth influence in all things edible -- which means, by default, you just might soon be seeing my face all over the country. I can't say that I was dressed for a formal engagement; I was wearing a black hat with lips painted on the bill, a certain choice, V-shaped septum ring that was hanging sideways, my Jaws jacket, generic track pants, black and white, 9.5 wide, Saucony Echelons (yes, I have ridiculously huge feet for my size, which I guess means that I'm packing a big dick as well. And so far, along with special-made insoles, these are the only shoes that work to keep my consistently sore feet a little less consistently sore and so, I'm promoting you, Saucony), and I had my tongue hanging out, so much so that you could see my gum.
Just so you know that indeed, it's the real me and not an impostor.
Also, I had my first audience for my original piano tunes. I sneaked into a church to play piano, and a dude that worked there wandered in. Hi Steve. Steve was having a bad day. So, I played him some songs, sang to him, and he said he felt a lot better, which was cool! But it seems that Steve recorded a little on his phone. So, I'm assuming my song's gonna go viral.
Just wanted to give you a fair warning if you were trying to avoid me because soon, it's going to be impossible to go anywhere without seeing my face.
Love to you, 👀😅💖
C.A. MacConnell
P.S. Shout out to those who are kind to me while I'm doing deliveries. Shout out to the officer who let me go w/ a mere warning. Means a lot.
P.P.S. While I'm trying to get an agent and such with Book Five (wish me luck, nonfiction), I'm going to go ahead and dive into working on a new fiction book. I've got a plan in my head already, and it's annoying. The books always start out this way. I start writing in my mind and pretty soon, I have to start actually writing, b/c there's too much info in my brain, ha. Anyway, I have a plot in mind already. Very annoying. C.A.
P.P.S. While I'm trying to get an agent and such with Book Five (wish me luck, nonfiction), I'm going to go ahead and dive into working on a new fiction book. I've got a plan in my head already, and it's annoying. The books always start out this way. I start writing in my mind and pretty soon, I have to start actually writing, b/c there's too much info in my brain, ha. Anyway, I have a plot in mind already. Very annoying. C.A.
4/12/2024
Breaking the Rules.
Good morning! Love to you. Don't forget to buy my awesome books on Amazon. Go here. Yes! Or, for more info, just click on the books on the right side of this page!
They're page-turners. All of them are intense, mysterious, deep, and even hilarious at times. Many years of hard work, research, and creative energy went into each one, and the dialogue is absolutely rich and real. You'll be surprised at the way I capture a voice. Literally, when I write, I BECOME each character, which can be frightening at times.
And please leave a review! Many thanks to those who are supporting my art! You are making it possible for me to continue pursuing my dream, which is to continue punching out books and see my books turn into films. :) Yes!
I'll turn this into a short story at some point, but here's a funny little scene for you...
Yesterday, I saw an 86-year-old woman slowly rising up off of one of those electric, seated shopping carts to reach for some mushrooms. How do I know her exact age? You'll see...
Me: Hi there, you need some help reaching those mushrooms?
Her (smiling wildly): Hi there! Aw, no, I just don't want the organic ones. I want the regular. I can get 'em. (standing tall) I got it.
Me: Alright, you got it.
Her (whispering): Oh yeah, I do. Hey, come here.
Me (leaning in)
Her (whispering, grabbing the shrooms, sitting back down): Hey, you know what I do? I get the regular mushrooms and peel off the outsides. Then they're organic, haha!
Me (laughing): You're a rebel!
Her (laughing): Oh, you gotta be! I'm 86. I'm breaking all the rules, and I'm not messing around.
Me: No doubt.
Her (holding up her mushrooms, driving her cart away one-handed, speedily)
Me (laughing hard, giving her a thumbs-up)
People might look at me or hear me talk and assume certain things. Oftentimes, I'm a quiet observer in a crowd -- that girl in the back who seems invisible. But what they don't know is this: I'm 49. I'm breaking all the rules, and I'm not messing around.
C.A. MacConnell
4/11/2024
The Country Club
A little hint into my tricky brain: word choice and line breaks punch out the feel here. A powerful little sucker. I'm at my best when I'm distant from subjects and can write from a POV of "observation."
The Country Club
Their world rages pink,
like a chapped lip,
like a strange,
split sunset
on the mouth
of a private plane.
Some smoke cigars
in the basement.
Leather lazy boys.
Nothing but time
and sheep.
Today’s party
is in the main room,
down the hall,
the side table beneath
the exclusive painting.
A golf course view
of buttons and zippers.
Windbreakers.
For the children,
somewhere near
the all-you-can-eat
buffet, they'll bring in
five or twenty
live bunnies.
C.A. MacConnell
The Country Club
Their world rages pink,
like a chapped lip,
like a strange,
split sunset
on the mouth
of a private plane.
Some smoke cigars
in the basement.
Leather lazy boys.
Nothing but time
and sheep.
Today’s party
is in the main room,
down the hall,
the side table beneath
the exclusive painting.
A golf course view
of buttons and zippers.
Windbreakers.
For the children,
somewhere near
the all-you-can-eat
buffet, they'll bring in
five or twenty
live bunnies.
C.A. MacConnell
4/10/2024
Photo.
Hey, good morning. Just a photo from the past that I came across, and I rather liked it. An old heart-close friend.
Working on getting book five out there for you. It's finished, but I'm going the traditional route, querying agents and such, and that takes patience and hard work as well, but I've done it all before and so, I'm accustomed to the wild ride. Indeed, it is a wild ride. Actually, I wrote an entirely new book, replacing the old book five. It's nonfiction as well. I've had quite a bit of interest; we shall see what rolls out next. As of now, I'm still in the process.
Grateful to be generating more followers in person, on here, and on my FB page. If you haven't been there yet, come on over! "C.A. MacConnell" is my FB author page. Not hard to find. Would love to have you join me on my artistic journey.
Please check out my four novels on Amazon. Or you can simply click on the book covers on the right side of this page. Presto, it'll lead you to descriptions of each one. All are available to purchase -- paperback or Kindle. Paperback is better. :) If you've read them, please leave a review. Thanks to those who already have!
Life has been a cantankerous opponent; however, I'm fiercely developing a new strength that I didn't know I even had. Also, I'm learning to turn inward and trust my higher power even more. Like a child, sometimes I balk at the change but then, I settle into the new version of myself. Back and forth, it seems. Large change and growth seem to roll out messily at times, but I've got a parachute.
Hope to see you when I'm out and about. Praying that you have all the things that I want. Praying for your peace and happiness. Because we're in this together, and everything is circular. And deep in my heart, I feel that God is getting me ready for something.
Seems to me that we're all trooping around, letting go of old shit, learning how to play again, uncovering that which we had when we were born, trying to get back to the beginning, when there were no outside influences. At our first cry, we all naturally understood the source of peace and love.
Remember to laugh today. Know that I'm steadily pulling for you, and for me.
Love to you,
C.A. MacConnell
Grateful to be generating more followers in person, on here, and on my FB page. If you haven't been there yet, come on over! "C.A. MacConnell" is my FB author page. Not hard to find. Would love to have you join me on my artistic journey.
Please check out my four novels on Amazon. Or you can simply click on the book covers on the right side of this page. Presto, it'll lead you to descriptions of each one. All are available to purchase -- paperback or Kindle. Paperback is better. :) If you've read them, please leave a review. Thanks to those who already have!
Life has been a cantankerous opponent; however, I'm fiercely developing a new strength that I didn't know I even had. Also, I'm learning to turn inward and trust my higher power even more. Like a child, sometimes I balk at the change but then, I settle into the new version of myself. Back and forth, it seems. Large change and growth seem to roll out messily at times, but I've got a parachute.
Hope to see you when I'm out and about. Praying that you have all the things that I want. Praying for your peace and happiness. Because we're in this together, and everything is circular. And deep in my heart, I feel that God is getting me ready for something.
Seems to me that we're all trooping around, letting go of old shit, learning how to play again, uncovering that which we had when we were born, trying to get back to the beginning, when there were no outside influences. At our first cry, we all naturally understood the source of peace and love.
Remember to laugh today. Know that I'm steadily pulling for you, and for me.
Love to you,
C.A. MacConnell
4/08/2024
4/07/2024
4/06/2024
4/04/2024
From the Mosquito
Hope you have a beautiful day. :) A poem from the POV of the mosquito...The sentences should read quickly but ironically, with the rhythm and line breaks, it forces a slow read...something I did on purpose. Desktop shows proper line breaks. Ha, if anyone cares but me. Just a little trick I learned, a hint into my craft. Love to you, C.A.
From the Mosquito
I guess I'm here now, which was quick. The water is cold this time
of year. I'm the only one
skimming the surface. Indeed, I could hide inside
the tree's hollow. Earlier,
I was spent from trying. How high
does a damn bridge have to be.
I could give up and throw up makeup,
the sweet taste of old caffeine, smoky cigar skin,
and all of the horrible sweat -- exercisers and sleepers --
and enjoy the dirty, wind ride
home. Or I could rest within
a deserted wrinkle. Yesterday, earth-hidden, a fresh, male one
pitched a green/tan tent
on the bike trail. Suddenly, he was mine. I slipped through
the underside hole, digging
into his thigh, leaving him
shrieking. At the back, I spied a black,
smiley face
spraypainted on his cooler.
I guess he was grinning too. Illegal free rent,
and even though
the pesky chill covered that morning,
I then heard a rustle. The delicious buck spied on me,
and I thought about the tricky dive,
aiming for tail end,
but the hell tick
blocked me mid-back-hair,
and with sunrise, the branches -- our shared, lawless branches --
burned orange with light,
and our whole scene
turned into fire. Funny,
later, safer, I flew to the office. Caddy corner, the boss man
called the woman a twig.
Aside, I rolled my eyes,
all one hundred lenses. I'd visited her before. She's lived through
an above-average, human
war zone. Ninety-eight percent of people like her have turned into heat, no more
than the vapor zone.
Even still, five days a week, forty hours, she stayed.
Resting on the desk, checking
my reflection in her ring,
I had all the time in the world.
When she was typing, I recalled the time
when I stabbed through
her open-toed shoes, expertly
finding the vein. Back then, people left rear windows
cracked. Hands were easy targets, and car phones made men mad,
buzzing without reception.
Even then, I planned on becoming
famous, with or without
tasting roadkill, mascara, perfume,
or lotion. I always knew that wasn't the answer,
but I heard the swarm. The others believed that once
we were known, we could live
forever. But the answer is this:
we mosquitos bite for the blood type.
Time to find another, before they team together, like people do.
What if tomorrow, the white room,
the paper, the printer, and the grey
walls vanished. The girl could pack her blue car
and drive several directions,
because once, I heard her whisper
that all she ever wanted to do
was shoot pictures of the happy
cooler, unzipping the tent's nylon to find his peculiar eyes --
whether caked, lined, or untouched --
suddenly staring back. Soon, he would reach out his right hand,
smack and miss, scratching the itch,
feeling the trace
of what I always left behind -- the tiny speck of blood
staining his pointer finger
red. He could taste it, or he could touch her cheek,
making a print. And only then, according to god's unwritten rules,
I'd be forbidden from the return,
but I'd never be forgotten.
I'd simply leave them
together
and tear away
laughing.
C.A. MacConnell
From the Mosquito
I guess I'm here now, which was quick. The water is cold this time
of year. I'm the only one
skimming the surface. Indeed, I could hide inside
the tree's hollow. Earlier,
I was spent from trying. How high
does a damn bridge have to be.
I could give up and throw up makeup,
the sweet taste of old caffeine, smoky cigar skin,
and all of the horrible sweat -- exercisers and sleepers --
and enjoy the dirty, wind ride
home. Or I could rest within
a deserted wrinkle. Yesterday, earth-hidden, a fresh, male one
pitched a green/tan tent
on the bike trail. Suddenly, he was mine. I slipped through
the underside hole, digging
into his thigh, leaving him
shrieking. At the back, I spied a black,
smiley face
spraypainted on his cooler.
I guess he was grinning too. Illegal free rent,
and even though
the pesky chill covered that morning,
I then heard a rustle. The delicious buck spied on me,
and I thought about the tricky dive,
aiming for tail end,
but the hell tick
blocked me mid-back-hair,
and with sunrise, the branches -- our shared, lawless branches --
burned orange with light,
and our whole scene
turned into fire. Funny,
later, safer, I flew to the office. Caddy corner, the boss man
called the woman a twig.
Aside, I rolled my eyes,
all one hundred lenses. I'd visited her before. She's lived through
an above-average, human
war zone. Ninety-eight percent of people like her have turned into heat, no more
than the vapor zone.
Even still, five days a week, forty hours, she stayed.
Resting on the desk, checking
my reflection in her ring,
I had all the time in the world.
When she was typing, I recalled the time
when I stabbed through
her open-toed shoes, expertly
finding the vein. Back then, people left rear windows
cracked. Hands were easy targets, and car phones made men mad,
buzzing without reception.
Even then, I planned on becoming
famous, with or without
tasting roadkill, mascara, perfume,
or lotion. I always knew that wasn't the answer,
but I heard the swarm. The others believed that once
we were known, we could live
forever. But the answer is this:
we mosquitos bite for the blood type.
Time to find another, before they team together, like people do.
What if tomorrow, the white room,
the paper, the printer, and the grey
walls vanished. The girl could pack her blue car
and drive several directions,
because once, I heard her whisper
that all she ever wanted to do
was shoot pictures of the happy
cooler, unzipping the tent's nylon to find his peculiar eyes --
whether caked, lined, or untouched --
suddenly staring back. Soon, he would reach out his right hand,
smack and miss, scratching the itch,
feeling the trace
of what I always left behind -- the tiny speck of blood
staining his pointer finger
red. He could taste it, or he could touch her cheek,
making a print. And only then, according to god's unwritten rules,
I'd be forbidden from the return,
but I'd never be forgotten.
I'd simply leave them
together
and tear away
laughing.
C.A. MacConnell