What I'm reading

Just thought I'd drop in to talk about what I'm reading and have read. I haven't talked about this since January when I went on a Maya Angelou craze. I am reading Invisible life by E Lynn Harris. First off, I love him as a writer, and I've read most of his stuff but I didn't think I was going to get through the first 80 pages because of his graphic description of man on man. But before long I got really involved with the story. Invisible life is his debut novel I'm about halfway through it and I'll be finished tomorrow, but so far really good. Has anybody read or started his new novel? I'm thinking about reading it next.
NOW, what I did read a while ago but didn't mention to you all is The Women of Brewster Place. MY God. If you haven't read this you must. When I finished this book I was like, "Are you kidding me?" Not only is she a magnificent writer the story of Teresa and Lorraine will keep you up many nights after you finish.
And of course I'm always talking about The Color Purple. The Color Purple was the first book that I felt privledged to read. And obviously I'm not a lesbian but The love affair she painted between Shug and Celie made me understand. I understood the love Celie had for Shug--it was so beautiful. It's sad that the movie couldn't portray their love affair in that way, because it was the most touching part of the story. So, even if you've seen the movie you must pick it up.
Has anyone read Chasing Destiny by Eric Jerome Dickey?

So this is what I'm reading. Let me know what you're reading.
-LF Goodwyn

What next?

My coffee maker is officially broken, my dog has a terrible rash, my husband didn't get the position he went up for, school is almost out, and we are off budget, which means as of right now, we aren't approved to close on the house! I am near tears. I want to ask "what next?" but I'm afraid of the answer.

A slap on the wrist...If you're white!

I know this blog is supposed to be about my journey through self-publishing but sometimes I can't help talking about other things. This morning I am watching Good Morning America and I got not really upset but bothered. There was a story on a woman they called her a socialite, who was addicted to shoplifting. She had a familyroom full of stolen furniture, clothes, everything. So she was on TV crying saying that she was addicted to shoplifting and it stemmed from her childhood and her father and how she couldn't cope. I'm thinking if this was a Sister, number one it wouldn't make the news and number two she'd be in jail. That woman had more than enough stuff to be charged with a felony! But because of her difficult childhood, they say, she gets a slap on the hand. Now, mind you this woman is every bit of forty, and they are putting young black youth who have never had anything; during a time in their life when the latest gear is crucial, during a time where if you wear off brand sneakers you can be isolated from groups, who are too young to realize that stuff doesn't matter, who have seen more in their young life than that forty year old her seen in all of her years, would I'm sure love to have the childhood that she is crying about, being put in jail! But they take this grown ass woman, who is already wealthy, definitely knows better and gives her a spot on GMA.
Not only is this an important lesson about race it is an important lesson about class. Is it okay to steal as long as you can afford to pay for it?

What if I wasn't?

Upon examination I have figured out that I eat when I'm upset. When people first started identifying with this years ago I was like: I just like food! But I recently I realized that I eat when I'm upset. Take today for instance, me and my husband had to go to the land to mark the spots that we want cleared. Well, on the way there we stopped at Wal-mart to get some water and tape to mark the spot and I got a box of Crunch -n- Munch, for later.
On the way back home after we'd marked the land we were having a disagreement, and so I opened the box of crunch -n- munch. I started shoveling handfuls into my mouth, which I didn't even get to enjoy because I was eating out of nervousness. Before I knew it the box was almost gone-- I finished it off when I got home. And yesterday I was irritated about something and I completely blew my diet.
I had already suspected that I had this problem. I guess I related to it about three or four months ago. I just started paying attention to my eating habits. But I couldn't stop myself from eating the fattening sugar coated popcorn.
When I was soaking in the bath last night I was remembering when I was a little girl. I had gone fishing with my grandpa like I did every summer. Well, this particular time there was a bad storm. First let me explain to you my grandfather. He was hard and stern and kind and sweet, but there were two time in life when you didn't want any parts of him and that was on a fishing trip pitching the tent or rather building a tent, and taking it down. My grandfather was in the military during WWII so he knew how to build a mean tent and we had to do this every fishing trip. The tent would have bedrooms and living areas; we could stand up straight and walk around. Well anyway, he would cuss everybody out as we were building it because it had to be built just right. "Goddamnit pull.... Can't you hold it this way?" would clap in the air like thunder, the kids would be crying, adults would be crying, all accept him, and after the tent was built he'd go back to saying things like... "Sho' baby. What ever you want sweet cakes."
Okay now to the point: there was a bad storm and our camp was being blown away. We had to take the tent down in the high-speed winds, and I wanted a cookie. Everybody was upset, my grandfather was bitching and I was asking everyone if I could have a cookie and I made the mistake of running up on my grandfather asking for a cookie and instead of "sho' baby," he cussed my ass out to the frequency of the lightening that was cutting through the sky, to the thunder that was rattling in our bones, to the screech of the wheels which were spinning hot mud because we were stuck in a puddle, to the leaves and branches that were being tossed in the hole so that we could get out.
I thought about all of this last night in the bathtub and realized that I eat when I'm upset and apparently I always have. Now for the next question to examine... I was an overweight child and I always thought it was because I loved food and had no limits set for me, but what if it wasn't? What had me upset enough as a child that I was overweight?
-LF Goodwyn