I have finished my first novel, but my second book. My first is a book of emotional poems. I am so excited…

Words truly cannot describe it. I have so many stories in my head screaming to get out. Now don’t get me wrong, I do have short stories that I finished writing, but there’s nothing like the feeling you get when you have writing some ten thousand words times five, six, maybe even seven or eight.

I shared two of my short stories with my sister, who loved it and told a friend about it. The friend is ready to buy a book she never seen, or what is even funnier…a book that isn’t printed up yet.

So now that I know I have it in me to do this, I can set bigger goals, something reachable in my writing career.

I need to complete my other titles finished to add to Feelings Redirected and Emotional Rollercoaster.

I came across this question today while surfing the net and I had to ponder it. I like so many things am I limited to just one?

I have discovered a liking for writing paranormal. I will let a secret out the bag, I have a piece already started that I am working on that my mother wants me to hurry and finish.

I also like chick-lit, and that I have a lot of topics and brief descriptions of things already written down. Plus the one I am currently working. That one is almost finished. It was something I needed to get out.

One day I would like to try my hand at Christian fiction. I don’t know how good I will be, but I will try none-the-less.

I have written an erotica short story, as well as a novel that I started for NaNo WriMo in 2006. I have already shared my short story, but most likely the other will not see the light of day.

My all time favorite is poetry. I have been writing rhymes with some kind of reasons and free-flowing prose for as long as I could remember. I cannot wait to put out my already finished book of poetry. I love pouring my heart and soul out into those verses.

Lastly, I am trying my hand at self-help. I know that I like helping people, and I received a lot of help when I was going through some challenging times and those self-help books brought me back to who I am, maybe even a better version than the person before.

So tell me what genre do you like writing and why?

What if you had one more day with someone who would it be and what would you do?

That is the topic of Oprah today, based on the book by the Tuesdays with Morrie author, Mitch something and the other. His latest addition to the literary world, For One More Day, Oprah made it into an Oprah special airing on ABC on Sunday December 9th. I want to watch it. It looks like it will be very good.

Back to my question, wow I can answer this for my mother…she would say my grandfather, her dad, the apple of her eye. The epitome of what a real man is supposed to be. For me to answer this question I would have to have had people that I really love and adore die. And other than my grandfather passing last year, December 14 will be a year, I have no one. I didn’t know him that well. I left Jamaica when I was four years-old and have been back once since then when I was ten.

I am one of the lucky ones I guess. I still have all the people that mean something to me still breathing the stale air that I breathe.

That brings me to my mending broken relationships. Over the years quite a few relatives stop speaking to me for one thing or another. It’s been so long I’m not sure if I can even think of the reason. Probably something stupid. However, with my father, I never knew period. He stopped speaking to me every chance he got. Even before I was born, but that doesn’t matter. The day after Thanksgiving was my 30th birthday, and my sister called to ask me to do her a favor and call a man that I haven’t spoken too in over ten years, and I told her I was not willing to do it. But since she had three way she could call and I would talk. She was all too happy to do this. So I spoke to my father, and he sounded pitiful. To me he was trying to make amends before he dies, should that matter probably not, but why did he wait until he was ill to seek solace, forgiveness or maybe it is peace? I have three children that he will never know because I won’t subject them to one day I like you and the next you are not my family.

I guess if he had died before I spoke to him again, I would need one more day with him to ask him, “Daddy what did I ever do that was so bad that you hated me so much, even before I was born? I tried so hard over the years to earn your love and your acceptance and I was never good enough. Why?”

But he’s still alive and I am not brave enough to utter those words. He doesn’t need to know that he has hurt me so.

If you had one last day with someone who would it be, what would you do or say, and why?