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When you ‘sign up’ for an event, I believe you should do your best to meet the challenge of doing what you ‘signed up’ to do. The Event in question is the #poemadayfeb event, and I had been going well, writing my new poem every day, and posting the poem on my blog here. Until yesterday.

Yesterday, a variety of things happened though, and while I did write a new poem on the 7th of February (ie, yesterday), I wasn’t able to, or simply didn’t, post that poem on my blog here, as I was supposed to. And when I say ‘supposed to’ it’s only me who says that’s what I was ‘supposed to’ do.

Anyway, today is a new day, and I am now going to post my new poem right underneath what I’m writing here. I like this new poem, and I really feel my poetry is moving in good directions, at the moment. I feel as if writing, every single day is definitely working for me, and who knows, perhaps I’ll be able to keep it going once February is over?

OK, enough of my prose, here is my poem:

memories are precious reminders of the good times, and/or needed reminders about the bad times perhaps. At the moment, the idea of memories is very much in my mind, and I remember a favourite uncle of mine who died very recently. Denis McGill was my mother’s much-loved brother, as well as being a published writer who had many friends in the writing world of South Australia and beyond.

The news of his death has prompted people to remember him, in fond ways. He as a good bloke, and everyone liked him. He has one poem, that many people know of, and that poem which I am almost certain is titled “Orange Trumpet Vine”, will live on in the memories of many of us, family and writers both.

That idea of living on after our death is possible one of the big reasons many people write, to be remembered through their words after their death. Being well-known, having people remember who you are is an important thing, when you are a writer. If people know or know of you, it is more likely you might be considered in people and groups need a speaker.

And if you are a writer, it’s important to be a speaker too. Writing might be your main thing, but speaking words is important too, to keep your name in people’s minds. Being accomplished as a speaker as well as writer means you will get more book sales, or have your books  borrowed from libraries.

I have written a poem today, in honour of my uncle, and share it here for you to read.

I am an author, with seven books published. I still make sales of some of those books, in fact I sold one of them yesterday, at an event I attended. And I get book sales often of the website of the publisher of my first book published by an actual publishing company.

When I make a new sale in person, I still get a big buzz out of doing the ‘signed by the author’ thing. I proves to the critic inside my head that, yes, I am an author, you doubter! Book signing is what authors do, therefore if I am signing a book I wrote then I am a real author.

But my car has unsold copies of some of my self-published books. More copies than I’d like left still. But when the right time comes, I will find the best home for all of those books, and I will personally, and gladly sign every copy!

I know I can do a lot more than I already am, to raise my author profile, speak more in public, and be known more widely as an interesting person to hear speaking. I have many themes I have valid opinions on. I know much about living well with dogs, creative writing, finding peace in life, having a happy marriage, and about living well with Multiple Sclerosis too.

Ask me about any of these things, and many others and I can talk interestingly about them. Or if you have things troubling you, I will listen in an engaged way, and offer assistance to you if you ask for it. I know sometimes the best listener is just a caring person who will just listen, with no blame or judgement, simply listen. I have been that person on many occasions, and I know I have helped others in this way.

Helping others is a good thing to do, and that is why I do it when I can. Communities need people like that, and people like that love their community, so they are happy to play that part when they can. A good Society is made up of good communities, and good communities have good people doing the good things.

In my days of connecting with my communities, I have met many good people, and I am making a list of some of these good people, ‘movers and shakers’ in a bigger way than I am currently, and I am going to find ways to connect with these people in informal ways, with them as informal mentors, assisting me in ways that can increase my skills, and help me to be better known as someone who has opinions worth hearing.

Writing creatively helps me to work through the thoughts in my head, and I know I am able to learn more about myself and others through writing about myself, and what I see around me. I also know I am able to assist others in doing the same thing, with the thoughts they have inside their heads … simple and honest encouragement, combined with careful critiquing are fine tools to help others create beautiful words.

I have a good life, I want to use my skills to help others have good lives too.

I am a wordsmith, a writer, poet, blogger, but I also want to become known as a Public Speaker. I think about things, and I certainly feel the things I think, and the thoughts and ideas I have are worth sharing.

I have recently begun attending meetings at the closest Zonta group to me, and I am extremely interested in working with that very worthy group to assist women who have suffered sexual abuse, through the healing use of creative writing.

I have a blog, which is related to this issue, sexual abuse, especially the sexual abuse of children. Recently I have posted a heartfelt poem, dealing with the necessity of being able to speak out, by the victims of sexual abuse. This blog is named after my first poetry collection “damaged children, Precious Gems”, in which I look at my linear journey from a victim of sexual abuse as a child, to being a survivor of that abuse, and in fact a person who has gone through that painful time and is now thriving.

This is where you can see this poem, and read a little more about this. Being able to tell our own stories is so very important to us, we victims. Because of course none of us are only victims, that is not our only ‘thing’. We are women, wives, mothers, friends, and a great many other roles. We have stories and we have voices. We deserve to be heard, we must be heard.

This abuse must end. I know men too suffer in life, but I am not a man, I do not know their stories, they have to do that, not me. I have my story though, and I will tell it to anyone who wants or needs to hear it. I will also do all I can to assist others to get their story written, because I know how healing it can be to get your own story out.

Other people will tell us what our story actually is, as far as they see it, but they cannot know the full truth of that story, only the person whose story it is can do that. When they have that opportunity to tell that story, then their healing can proceed …