As I relayed to you guys a few weeks ago, one of the exciting things going into 2018 is that I’m taking a creative writing course. From time to time I will share some of my exercises. Now, remember that’s all they are, writing exercises and not a finish product.

So here is my first one. The prompt was stage fright. To my fellow writers out there, you can use this to create your own writing exercise and I would love it if you would share them with us.

Glen was ready for the performance of his lifetime. He had rehearsed endlessly for months to get to the theaters and finally present his monologue, “Glen: A Life Story” The day was finally here. The butterflies in his stomach were strong. He didn’t know if he was just nervous or about to get sick.

He was sitting on his dressing room reading the script one more time. He started feeling a cold shill down his spine and sweaty hands. He was no doubt suffering from an attack of stage fright. He started pacing in the dressing room. How could it be that he was so nervous? He had acted on stage before. That was true, but this was the first time that his own material would be portrayed.

There were so many questions on his mind: Will the audience like it? Will my friends be there? Will I’ll be laughed off the stage? Finally, will it really feel satisfying to fulfill my lifelong dream?

Someone knocked on the door, but Glen was so immersed in his thoughts that he didn’t hear it. Kathy, his producer opened the door and approached him. He was with his back towards her and she just wrapped her arms around him without saying a word. Finally, Glen stopped pacing and allowed himself to breath and released his soul into that warm embrace. He felt safe. He knew Kathy was a very particular producer and she wouldn’t have accepted to do his monologue if she didn’t think it was good.

The sound of clapping hands interrupted their embrace. It was the final call to the theater. The curtain was about to be lifted. It was time for Glen to walk out. He took a deep breath and walked behind the curtain. He knelt with his back to the audience as he had practice so many times. The applause became deafening. The lights went out, the curtains up and there was Glen.

I’m having so much fun with this I had to share.

Until next time

Naty

This has been a rough couple of weeks for me. When #MeToo movement started I was

glad that things were coming to the light. It is time that the abuse of women gets the attention it deserves. Those who follow this blog know that in October I usually talk about abuse, because it’s a cause very dear to my heart.

The flip side, and probably the draining part, has been seeing people still wanting to victimize the victims. I’ve been engaging in conversations attempting to explain to detractors that these thing DO happen. Making people understand that the fact that a disclosure happens 20,30,40 years later, doesn’t mean that they are not true.

I’ve experience several instances of sexual abuse in my life. When I thought of the premise of asking victims of evidence, I just shook my head. The first instance of sexual abuse that I remember was, I  was very young, and an adult male known to me cornered me in a bathroom. He pulled down his pants and forced me to touch him. This was before I was of school age, but I remember it like if it was yesterday. This male is no longer alive. But if I needed to prove this. How could I? But I do know that it happened. I didn’t tell anyone at the time because I was too young to understand what was going on. I just knew that I felt uneasy and wanted out of that bathroom. I didn’t take a picture or kept his DNA.

I also remember being in my teens, my family visiting a family friend. I think there were only adults, so I got bored and I went outside. A neighbor to the person we were visiting,  came over and started a conversation with me. Just a few silly questions, nothing that took long. He groped my breast and walked away. I felt uncomfortable, but I didn’t say anything. I knew what he had done was not right, but he left immediately. I figured all I had to do was go back inside to be safe again. I can’t prove it today, but it happened.

I’ve heard that if an incident happened years ago, why speak now? Because there’s healing in speaking up. The other question that I hear frequently is, If this happened so long ago, why are victims not over it by now? Because when someone violates your body it leaves a mark that lasts forever. You may heal but the scar remains.

When I give my testimony in recovery meetings, I speak of my other instances of sexual abuse (molestation, attempted rape and domestic violence). Some days are better than others. Some days I can get through my testimony totally calm. But to this day, there are times where I still choke and cry. To this day, after recovery and treatment, there are nights that I wake up with nightmares. The more I share the less I feel shame. The more I share I feel like I take more of my power back. When I started the process, the most healing thing for me was to know that I was not alone. I was able to speak, because someone told me her story and it was so similar to mine.

I write to bring light to truth. I write because God had given me a voice to express some things. Today I want to be YOUR voice.

Luke 8:17 says “For there is nothing hidden that will not be disclosed, and nothing concealed that will not be known or brought out into the open.”

If you want to disclose your story, it’s time to be set free. It will help you and help others. Email me at therisingmuse@gmail.com I will NEVER publish your name. Just your current age and where you’re from (generally, like state or country) and your gender (yes, my brothers are welcome to share their stories too).

Let’s start and continue this healing together. Let’s change this culture of abuse. We are better together. Let’s bring awareness that this happens way more than people think. It will be the only way to make change happen.

Be Blessed!

Naty

It’s October 31, 2017.  For some people this is a holiday filled with disguises and tons of sugar. For the longest time, it was for me, the day before I would prepare for what I usually call the Super Bowl of the writing world: NanoWrimo.

One of the things that sometimes I don’t realize, is that the days go by and then all of the sudden a long time has gone by. and I’ve lost time doing the things that I loved so much. Writing is something that has been a part of me since I was very young. Back in 2009 when I rediscovered the pleasure of writing, I felt alive again.  I did it consistently for a few years, but I allowed life to get in the way again.

NanoWrimo was the start of taking my writing career seriously. It was the birth of this blog I felt that it was fitting to restart writing again with in the same place that got me started.  Back in 2009 I had a plan, a book in my heart. Today I must honestly say that I have no idea what I’m going to write about. I’m rusty. I’m out of shape. So, I need this book camp. There are many stories inside of me that are in need to be told.

Ironically the last time I posted was exactly a year ago. It was promoting a book about terrorism from a fellow writer. Today in NYC, there was a horrible act of terrorism. Thoughts and prayers to those victims and their loved ones. More reason for me to return to talk about love, common sense and Jesus!

In other news, this time I’m taking my writing to another level. Aside from my former education in media relations that gave me a lot of writing tools, I’m joining a formal writing class in the next week or so.

I should have never left, but I don’t regret it. During that time, I had something to do for me and some for the work of The Kingdom. But like my friend Carrie says, “you know what your calling is”. It is time to be back home doing what I was created to do.

So here I am, smiling at the sight of my laptop and a blank page. I sure missed you my old friend.

Stay safe.

Naty

This is a new book by Jim Baton. This is a serious topic being discussed in America at this time. Read and let us know your opinion on the information provided.

Summary :

ISIS unleashes a reign of terror across Indonesia. As a former jihadist, Abdullah knows all too well the high cost and absolute ineffectiveness of fighting such violence with violence. He accepts the impossible challenge of finding the ISIS cell hidden in his city, and disbanding it non-violently. But time is running out, and there may not be any city left to save.

Meanwhile, he has to protect his adopted daughter Sari, a Christian university student, who is one of ISIS’s targets. Together they come face-to-face with the holy warriors of mass destruction and strive to overcome that evil with good.

In this riveting sequel to Someone Has to Die, Jim Baton introduces us to the real people caught in the web of terrorism, with their wide variety of backgrounds and motivations, and the possibility that they, too, can change.

You can learn more about his work and novels at www.jimbaton.com, or find them on www.amazon.com.