BOOK THREE.
C.A. MacConnell
4/27/2019
4/26/2019
Photo: Wolf Hiding
Wolf Hiding
Getting a late start on my writing. Long day! Almost finished with edits from the page on Book Three...then I'll smooth things out in the puter. So close! Hope you like the photo. Love,
C.A. MacConnell
4/25/2019
Photo: Guitars, and article about Ashley Peacock.
What a talent and what a gentleman.
For those of you who knew him: Link to article about Ashley Peacock.
C.A. MacConnell
4/24/2019
Under the Covers
Hi there. This one is not for the kiddos. Strong language and theme. It's a tough piece, a prose poem, but it's also raw, real, and close to the heart. It shows there is still childlike yearning even in the thick of hardship. All of my poetry is fictional, and in a first person piece such as this, the "I" is never me directly, although some mistake it for that in both my poetry and my fiction.
Then again, the best writing comes from writing about scenes and stories that we know. Love to you. C.A.
Under the Covers
Near Short Vine, me and Susan chill and smoke up
at the toothless cat’s McMillan dive.
Wimpy, cool kids beg below the window.
I see them through the zoo bars.
You know, faces all cut up.
We know no heat or Dr. Seuss is coming.
The puppy is sick, and the cat is gone.
Me, loaded, Susan, on snow, we shiver together,
no more than shaky, sick,
whatever twigs. We share a White
Castle. On the wet futon, we wrap up
in Street Barbie’s leftover, wet, thin, gray blankets,
keeping watch on the scratched, black floor.
Everywhere, burns. Everywhere, pick-up-sticks
and GI Joe’s Hep C. The room moves with roaches.
Susan is seeing Care Bears. To stay warm,
I eat her pussy. Cheeks sink in -- our sleepy hollow.
When I give up, she throws up.
We hurt, hugging lightly, and love isn't working,
but it’s still on the brain.
Better, I half-sleep. You know, Platoon.
Susan stands tall, writing on the wall
with fluorescent paints, yelling at the ceiling,
calling it, Mother.
Eyes like cartoon girls, she raises her right arm,
holding up the neon yellow pen. Connect-the-dots
is tough -- her sores are moving again. Shrugging,
Susan smiles and says, If you leave, I just might
kill myself. She draws me that freaky Rainbow Brite girl.
I tell her to tone it the fuck down.
Susan wants to go to prom.
I’m in.
The puppy is sick, and the cat is gone.
C.A. MacConnell
Then again, the best writing comes from writing about scenes and stories that we know. Love to you. C.A.
Under the Covers
Near Short Vine, me and Susan chill and smoke up
at the toothless cat’s McMillan dive.
Wimpy, cool kids beg below the window.
I see them through the zoo bars.
You know, faces all cut up.
We know no heat or Dr. Seuss is coming.
The puppy is sick, and the cat is gone.
Me, loaded, Susan, on snow, we shiver together,
no more than shaky, sick,
whatever twigs. We share a White
Castle. On the wet futon, we wrap up
in Street Barbie’s leftover, wet, thin, gray blankets,
keeping watch on the scratched, black floor.
Everywhere, burns. Everywhere, pick-up-sticks
and GI Joe’s Hep C. The room moves with roaches.
Susan is seeing Care Bears. To stay warm,
I eat her pussy. Cheeks sink in -- our sleepy hollow.
When I give up, she throws up.
We hurt, hugging lightly, and love isn't working,
but it’s still on the brain.
Better, I half-sleep. You know, Platoon.
Susan stands tall, writing on the wall
with fluorescent paints, yelling at the ceiling,
calling it, Mother.
Eyes like cartoon girls, she raises her right arm,
holding up the neon yellow pen. Connect-the-dots
is tough -- her sores are moving again. Shrugging,
Susan smiles and says, If you leave, I just might
kill myself. She draws me that freaky Rainbow Brite girl.
I tell her to tone it the fuck down.
Susan wants to go to prom.
I’m in.
The puppy is sick, and the cat is gone.
C.A. MacConnell
4/23/2019
Photo: Here We Are
Here We Are
Milford, OH
Howdy. Just sharing a shot I took today. Working hard on Book Three. Coming soon!
Much love, always,
C.A. MacConnell
4/21/2019
GUESS WHAT?
Book Three
Just finished a run-through of editing on the page...just now got through p. 320! Rad. Looking so good. Now, back to the computer to fill in the missing pieces. Then I'll hit up some agents. That's the plan. Wish me luck.
I have a title now. Soon, the secret will be revealed.
Soon.
Coming to you.
So close.
I can't wait to share my art with you.
C.A. MacConnell
4/20/2019
The Cut.
Just doing some flash poetry to get in gear before I start working on Book Three. I'm actually having an awesome day, even though this piece is rather pensive, haha. I'm tricky that way, as a person and a writer. :) Hope you have a beautiful weekend. Much love to you! C.A.
The Cut
I see your honest back,
your smart, leather belt,
and your black.
I see myself
in the monotone.
Even the quiet
is becoming.
Right here, right now,
I slip on my glasses
to hide the left eye --
the broken vessels,
the yellowish bruise,
and the self-inflicted,
infected cut.
C.A. MacConnell
The Cut
I see your honest back,
your smart, leather belt,
and your black.
I see myself
in the monotone.
Even the quiet
is becoming.
Right here, right now,
I slip on my glasses
to hide the left eye --
the broken vessels,
the yellowish bruise,
and the self-inflicted,
infected cut.
C.A. MacConnell
4/18/2019
The Power of Circumstance
fresh off the presses...from me to you, right here, right now.
The Power of Circumstance
I was at a writing seminar yesterday, one aimed at promotion and communication, but strangely, the topic turned into a discussion about making restitution for harm done, dealing with resentments, and the like. Everyone in the room shared about experiences they'd had when apologizing for certain damage caused to family, coworkers, friends, agents, publishers, readers, and more.
Tired from a long day, I tuned in and out of the conversation, and my mind raced as it often does, and I worried about the chair I sat in, and I shifted, sitting on the edge (typical me), but I stopped fidgeting long enough to think about my personal reaction to things -- how I feel a sensation in my gut when I know it's time to make an amends for certain behavior. These days, I sincerely try to keep "my side of the street" clean when it comes to causing harm.
Of course, we are all human, and flaws often shine at work, in writing, in all relationships, and certainly, when becoming vulnerable enough to love.
But then, one woman in the back raised her hand. She was stocky in stature, and she wore a loose tank top and shorts; her hair was half-combed in a messy bob. And I also noticed that over the course of the hours in the room, she had developed a certain rapport with the one child who was there. Repeatedly, she whispered to him and gave him high fives. When she spoke, she struggled with a speech impediment, but she spoke with fervor. Her tone rose and fell with each sentence, hammering her words home. And she focused on the fear people often feel when attempting transparency, when sharing our intimate rights and wrongs. She spoke of the internal terror that enters our hearts and minds when we are forced to become soulfully real with those around us.
I listened close. My eyes felt dry. I had forgotten to blink.
As she spoke on, she spat a little.
And her last few sentences hit my mind with a jolt, then slowly sank into my core.
She said, "If you're feeling nervous, anxious, or you're shaking, don't be afraid. God is right by your side."
Sometimes, I feel quite in tune with a spiritual entity, and I stay close to what I know as a higher power -- my friend, my guide, my better twin, if you will. Other times, I may lose all sense of this connection and drift away. For me, it is a relationship like any other; I have to work at it. But when I heard this woman's words, and I realized that I hadn't even planned on going to this seminar (I decided at the last minute), I was shockingly reminded of the power of circumstance, and I knew that some force out there was speaking directly to me through her. And I reminded myself, as many wise people have said, I'm right where I'm supposed to be.
And with this thought, in this moment, I felt free of my current worries -- worries about my third book coming out, worries about relationships, worries about being alone, worries about finances, and on and on. I felt free of the loss I've been feeling lately. I felt free of the fresh rejection. I felt free of the desire to change how others perceive and react to me. I felt free of the chatter and the noise in my restless brain. It all seemed to rush away, because suddenly, I understood that indeed, I am not alone. I was never alone. And I was reminded that my search for a partner, for success, and for fulfillment is truly a disguise for my true, honest quest for a loving spirit that many people call God.
Twenty years ago, a stranger told me that he wanted to be a director. I told him that I wanted to be a writer. Guess what? We are both doing exactly what we spoke about, and I remember the way that his blue eyes shone, and to me, his words and soul were stunning. He was a stranger, just like the woman at this seminar. But are any of us strangers at all?
From the hawks, from the magnificent thunder, from this woman's words, from ridiculous happenings, from the laughter over broken eggs and spilled milk, from lessons I've learned through the patterns that continually appear in my life, I know this: there must be something out there pulling for you and me.
The woman at this seminar was my passionate reminder. I wish I didn't need reminders. I wish I could carry this feeling with me every moment I'm breathing, the feeling that we are all coming from the same place; we just have different skin on.
We are not alone. We were never alone. Rest assured that there is an inherent soulful presence resting deep inside this journey we call life.
C.A. MacConnell
The Power of Circumstance
I was at a writing seminar yesterday, one aimed at promotion and communication, but strangely, the topic turned into a discussion about making restitution for harm done, dealing with resentments, and the like. Everyone in the room shared about experiences they'd had when apologizing for certain damage caused to family, coworkers, friends, agents, publishers, readers, and more.
Tired from a long day, I tuned in and out of the conversation, and my mind raced as it often does, and I worried about the chair I sat in, and I shifted, sitting on the edge (typical me), but I stopped fidgeting long enough to think about my personal reaction to things -- how I feel a sensation in my gut when I know it's time to make an amends for certain behavior. These days, I sincerely try to keep "my side of the street" clean when it comes to causing harm.
Of course, we are all human, and flaws often shine at work, in writing, in all relationships, and certainly, when becoming vulnerable enough to love.
But then, one woman in the back raised her hand. She was stocky in stature, and she wore a loose tank top and shorts; her hair was half-combed in a messy bob. And I also noticed that over the course of the hours in the room, she had developed a certain rapport with the one child who was there. Repeatedly, she whispered to him and gave him high fives. When she spoke, she struggled with a speech impediment, but she spoke with fervor. Her tone rose and fell with each sentence, hammering her words home. And she focused on the fear people often feel when attempting transparency, when sharing our intimate rights and wrongs. She spoke of the internal terror that enters our hearts and minds when we are forced to become soulfully real with those around us.
I listened close. My eyes felt dry. I had forgotten to blink.
As she spoke on, she spat a little.
And her last few sentences hit my mind with a jolt, then slowly sank into my core.
She said, "If you're feeling nervous, anxious, or you're shaking, don't be afraid. God is right by your side."
Sometimes, I feel quite in tune with a spiritual entity, and I stay close to what I know as a higher power -- my friend, my guide, my better twin, if you will. Other times, I may lose all sense of this connection and drift away. For me, it is a relationship like any other; I have to work at it. But when I heard this woman's words, and I realized that I hadn't even planned on going to this seminar (I decided at the last minute), I was shockingly reminded of the power of circumstance, and I knew that some force out there was speaking directly to me through her. And I reminded myself, as many wise people have said, I'm right where I'm supposed to be.
And with this thought, in this moment, I felt free of my current worries -- worries about my third book coming out, worries about relationships, worries about being alone, worries about finances, and on and on. I felt free of the loss I've been feeling lately. I felt free of the fresh rejection. I felt free of the desire to change how others perceive and react to me. I felt free of the chatter and the noise in my restless brain. It all seemed to rush away, because suddenly, I understood that indeed, I am not alone. I was never alone. And I was reminded that my search for a partner, for success, and for fulfillment is truly a disguise for my true, honest quest for a loving spirit that many people call God.
Twenty years ago, a stranger told me that he wanted to be a director. I told him that I wanted to be a writer. Guess what? We are both doing exactly what we spoke about, and I remember the way that his blue eyes shone, and to me, his words and soul were stunning. He was a stranger, just like the woman at this seminar. But are any of us strangers at all?
From the hawks, from the magnificent thunder, from this woman's words, from ridiculous happenings, from the laughter over broken eggs and spilled milk, from lessons I've learned through the patterns that continually appear in my life, I know this: there must be something out there pulling for you and me.
The woman at this seminar was my passionate reminder. I wish I didn't need reminders. I wish I could carry this feeling with me every moment I'm breathing, the feeling that we are all coming from the same place; we just have different skin on.
We are not alone. We were never alone. Rest assured that there is an inherent soulful presence resting deep inside this journey we call life.
C.A. MacConnell
4/15/2019
4/13/2019
4/12/2019
Roadside.
The Jaguar is broken
down,
and in the traffic's face,
I am making
wolf eyes,
feeling the speed of machine
cheetahs,
because no honest beast slows down,
and the hot air burns any cheek,
like sun-beat bars on a steel cage,
and the closest
rest stop
is five hundred tracks away,
and I wonder
where you are killing
lunch.
C.A. MacConnell
down,
and in the traffic's face,
I am making
wolf eyes,
feeling the speed of machine
cheetahs,
because no honest beast slows down,
and the hot air burns any cheek,
like sun-beat bars on a steel cage,
and the closest
rest stop
is five hundred tracks away,
and I wonder
where you are killing
lunch.
C.A. MacConnell
4/11/2019
Photo: Four Turtles
Four Turtles
Miami Meadows
This is an older photo I just came across. Made me smile...hope it does the same for you.
I got a much-needed manicure yesterday. The girl working on me (also named Christine!) kept shaking her head, wondering how long it had been. Years, actually, ha. I don't like going there...I'd rather be in the woods. All the other girls looked so relaxed. I felt like this: When can I get outta here. This is boring as all hell. I don't like cut flowers either. Not at all. Most girls receive them and become rather happy. I get angry and sad, ha. And I can't stand shopping and cooking. Basically, I'm like a twelve-year-old boy, skate shoes and T-shirts and all.
I may sleepwalk, and I hate it when people spend the night, but I'm a fierce lover.
I may sleepwalk, and I hate it when people spend the night, but I'm a fierce lover.
And I wonder why I'm a spinster. Ah well, fuck it. I like who I am today. I'm a warrior, that's for sure.Yesterday, I wore a Wonder Woman jacket that I found on clearance in the little girls' department, and I wore that fucker, and I felt like I owned it.
I do like some things -- black licorice and black jelly beans and dark chocolate. As well as Pop Tarts and ice cream. Skateboarding, horses, hawks, lions, wolves, dogs, cats, chickens, you know. I also like limousines and rock and roll. Drums get me charged up. I love the band Lake Trout. If you know them, you may be my soul mate.
I do like some things -- black licorice and black jelly beans and dark chocolate. As well as Pop Tarts and ice cream. Skateboarding, horses, hawks, lions, wolves, dogs, cats, chickens, you know. I also like limousines and rock and roll. Drums get me charged up. I love the band Lake Trout. If you know them, you may be my soul mate.
Now off to see about another job, and then some work on Book Three. :) <3
I have copies of Griffin and The Anchor in my possession. Signed and waiting for YOU. Contact here. Also, both are available on Amazon.
If you "Like" my Facebook page, I'll give you a cookie. Hell, I'll give you a cookie anyway. Have you ever had those "Complete Cookies?" They're vegan, and they're tasty. Shout out to the Complete Cookie people...will you sponsor me? I apologize in advance if my sophomore work, The House of Anchor, is too offensive for you. But it's my favorite, I have to admit. It's genius, really.
If no one told you yet today, I love you,
C.A. MacConnell
4/10/2019
4/09/2019
The Day We Drank Nightwatch.
Gum was stuck to the sewer
grates.
No rain
the day we drank
Nightwatch by the Space Needle,
strumming songs,
proven by prison
tattoos.
Your long-key fingers
crawled to move.
Nothing else about you
was gorgeous.
Evenings, you were fast
and jerky.
Mornings, you were slow,
shaky, slow.
You were a slick black, one-
way,
straight shot.
You were the sharpest,
most untouchable
thief.
You were the coolest,
smoothest, loaded
bullet.
C.A. MacConnell
grates.
No rain
the day we drank
Nightwatch by the Space Needle,
strumming songs,
proven by prison
tattoos.
Your long-key fingers
crawled to move.
Nothing else about you
was gorgeous.
Evenings, you were fast
and jerky.
Mornings, you were slow,
shaky, slow.
You were a slick black, one-
way,
straight shot.
You were the sharpest,
most untouchable
thief.
You were the coolest,
smoothest, loaded
bullet.
C.A. MacConnell
4/08/2019
Facebook Page.
Heya. Here is my official Facebook Page if you would like to join and find out the latest news.
And in the spirit of watching Jaws last night:
Thanks, now off to write,
C.A.
And in the spirit of watching Jaws last night:
Thanks, now off to write,
C.A.
4/06/2019
University of Somewhere.
?
Northern Ohio
University of Somewhere
essay from the archives. A little essay for you while I'm working on Book Three...moving along! Love, C.A.
This is one of those times in my life defined by one, monstrous word: uncertainty. For a person with my personality, this word -- uncertainty -- is a real bear. A momma grizzly. Ever unsure which way is up? Ever have doubt, uncertainty, constant wonder?
Of course you do.
Everyone does indeed have times like this, I know. Sometimes it feels like there's nothing to hold on to, eh? (Although lately I've been holding on to the word, "indeed." Seems like I use that word every other sentence, ha. I used to prefer, "overall.") I suppose that's growth, I dunno.
Anyway. Uncertainty. Perhaps you're waiting to hear about a job, or your child's health report. Maybe you're learning to drive, trying to pass that test. (No worries, I failed it once miserably, and they still let me live. Not the parallel parking...the written, i.e., the laws, haha). Moving on...hey, maybe your dog's having surgery, or you and your husband are hitting up the therapist again, or you're stuck in the thunderstorm, and you have to pull over, or you're trying to walk and there's a big, black snake stretched out across the path, or you're waiting to hear from the University of Somewhere.
We all have those times of waiting, times when it feels like everything has been stripped away. Maybe it's all gone -- the relationship, the job, the place to live, the savings, and on and on. Recently, it's been like this for me, for sure. But I'm smiling. That's right, shrugging and smiling.
I've been in this place before, and I am a believer in the strange order of things; that is, I believe that there are times when I lose everything so that new people, places, and things can fall right into place. And I've been in this spot enough to know that at some point, I will look back and say, Now I get it.
Let me stay in the present and recognize that I have all that I need, right here, right now. Let me believe that becoming whole and new again is wonderful, unique, and part of being human. I have taken the actions. As far as the rest goes, I feel that a warrior would let the results go.
Much love to anyone uncertain out there. Peace to you. Love to you. Indeed,
C.A. MacConnell
4/05/2019
Photos, and a Poem: First Date
Romeo and Juliet
Pyramid Hill Sculpture Park
First Date
No movie. Let's
Really
Skydive.
Look.
That red-winged
Blackbird
Was fierce.
There's another.
Five.
The pipes on him!
Or her.
Did you hear?
Yes, Singles.
Bet those
College kids
Have never seen
The lawnmower boy
In the film,
Can't Buy
Me Love.
I'm sorry
I hate
The Beatles.
Who cares.
Look,
Seven.
C.A. MacConnell
4/01/2019
Moving Right Along!
Printing out BOOK THREE right now! Now I can edit on the page, the fun part. :) Moving right along! 320pp!
Love to you,
C.A.
Love to you,
C.A.