I know, I know.
I said I was joining BookTube, and then I disappeared. The truth is… life happened, in a good way, and I had to choose which projects where most important to me. As a writer, that meant taking a new opportunity to work on my catalog of works, even though it took up more of my free time than intended.
To be fair, I also started a new job after a brief stint as an unemployed person (ugh) and found myself included in socialization opportunities with friends (YAY). As a firm believer in seeking my own comfort and happiness as a form of self-care, I chose to focus on my writing with the bits of spare time I have. For me, that means I’m reading less and writing more… which isn’t bad, per se, but it doesn’t help with creating BookTube videos.
I still intend to participate in BookTube here and there, because it’s a wonderful community. But much of what I’m working on right now is offline.
This month, I’m releasing Dandelion Girls and Other Mythical Creatures, a poetry collection full of mythology and modern life mixed together. I’ll be sharing bits and pieces from the book as the days go by; consider them teasers, luring you in until you decide to buy a copy of the entire book.
So… I finally did it. I made a rambling BookTube intro video and posted it online. AAAAAAAAHHHH!!!!
Honestly, I found myself making excuse after excuse as to why I hadn’t started my channel yet. Oh, I need to finish updating my profiles on various websites. Oh, wait, I need to dust and reorganize the shelves. Oh, I should make sure I have the perfect lighting and recording setup before I start. Oh, I can’t post anything until I have a good editor to work with.
I’m done with excuses. Period.
I still have SO MANY THINGS I want/need to get done, both as a book reviewer and a writer. It’s a bit of a jumbled mess, between my poetry project (still writing at least one new poem per day), my fanfiction, my original stories, my reading list, and now my YouTube channel. I’m not sure what will happen when, or how I’ll get any of it done. But… why not drag you along for the ride and see what happens?
If you like my rambling and want to follow my dive into the BookTube madness, subscribe and follow me through my social media.
I haven’t been posting my poetry for the past month or two, but I’m still writing. For 2017 I decided to make my goal a poem a day; I managed 296 poems in 2016 without a plan, so I’m sure it’s doable.
Meanwhile, I’ve printed and started sorting the poems I have. My goal is to put together a couple of small poetry books via Amazon’s printing house, so that I can have a physical copy of the project when I’m done. Poetry is one genre I think does poorly in ebook format.
At the same time, the scam publisher I went through for my first ever book is *finally* releasing my book from contact. Due to their pricing plans and overall crappiness, I haven’t sold any copies since publishing the book in 2009. And back then, most of the purchases were family and friends. Once the book’s free, I’ll convert it to an ebook just to keep it available.
I’m working on editing my NaNoWriMo story from 2015, because it holds promise. I’ve found a method of reverse outlining to try, so I can find plot holes and rearrange the existing scenes. Slow and steady work, editing is.
And of course, I’ve got this story idea that’s been percolating for months and finally refused to be ignored. I blame Tumblr. So I’ve started plotting it out, made use of my love for Pinterest by making an inspiration board too. This would be my first non-fanfic story since 2015 as well. About damn time!
So all in all, this is me. Not sharing, but still creating.
you come back to me with the first snowfall
cold and biting
my soul recognizes the need
for all the death you trail behind you
but I must’ve drank deeply of the river Lethe
because I feel like
this is the first time I’ve found you
all over again
like we haven’t harvested the fruits of love before
I call you Hades as a joke
but your smile is sad
I don’t understand why your smile is sad
but you offer me your hand
tell me I’m all yours
tell me I’m so fucking beautiful
so ripe for the picking
I remember being consumed by you
just as the first bite tears into my tender flesh
your fingers leaving behind dots of decay
until I’m nothing
swallowed by the hard soil and carrion beetles
maybe next time I’ll remember dying for you
maybe next time I’ll turn back before it’s too late
-poem by Larissa Lee
we two are the epitome of a moth to a flame
but I can’t quite tell which of us is on fire
and which is drawn to a burning end
I used to blame myself
assumed the weakness was mine
that I had tattered wings hidden on my back and
the inability to turn away from your unholy light
but I did turn away
only to find you wandering
returning to my sight
with an unexpected flutter of hurt
at my extended absence
tell me how to warn you away
all I’m good at is shining brightly
a furnace of life refusing to die out
not even to save a moth like you
-poem by Larissa Lee
we’ve always had a strange relationship
in the way you’ve witnessed my lowest lows
hidden in the cold
winter has been my favorite season
but it’s never been particularly kind to me
you tweaked my nose with your frosty fingertips
while my world fell apart
that December is often when my world
chooses to fall apart
I miss you after spring arrives
my bruised and battered heart more obvious
after the frost melts away
like a true winter’s child
I count the months until you come back to me
your first kiss always burns my lungs
but makes me laugh
giddy at your return and whatever it brings
winter is the season of dead things
of letting things go
I’m not sure how I’d handle it without you
even if you’re touch only ever hurts me
-poem by Larissa Lee
my father accidentally thrust me into being
with a poorly planned affair
though to be fair
all affairs tend to be short on planning
I lucked out
the centuries mellowing Hera’s ire
at another bastard child
another nail in the coffin of Her marriage
to that faithless fool
but I digress
my father was a wanderer
walked the world the way a bored teenager
trolls the neighborhood for something to do
a bored god is a dangerous god
and a bored man has wandering eyes and hands
at least the only damage was me
a little mistake planted in my mother’s womb
no one wants to tend a garden
of ill-sewn seeds and weeds
so needless to say he took no interest in me
but I flourished despite that
became this demigoddess of the dandelion
this mobile muse
carrying inspiration to places with
the tiniest hint of room to grow
-poem by Larissa Lee