Free Women.
What comes to your mind when you read those two words?
A demand that women should be free? An offer that women are available? The state of women in a society?
When I consider how free I feel as a woman, my heart rate increases, and my body stiffens into a Kung Fu protection stance. I find that doubts about my safety are tied to the fact that I AM a WOMAN. And despite all of the bravado of women’s lib, I am strong, hear me roar, etc., etc., being a woman still doubles my risk factor as a potential victim for violence, abuse, and discrimination.
I often find myself wishing that I could morph into a superhero. I’d use my powers to defeat all of the negative elements in the world and the “bad guys,” with full assurance that I could never be hurt, and that I could protect others as well.
Returning to reality and digging deeper, I discover a different type of freedom: my words that compel me to speak and my love for others that persuades me to act, despite my fears, because I have the power to do what is right for others, and I c
an be a formidable force for positive change in the world.
I think that is why I write.
See you next time on March 22nd.
Veronica Jorge
Manager, Educator, and former High School Social Studies teacher, Veronica credits her love of history to the potpourri of cultures that make up her own life and to her upbringing in diverse Brooklyn, New York. Her genres of choice are Historical Fiction where she always makes new discoveries and Children’s Picture Books because there are so many wonderful worlds yet to be imagined and visited.
She currently resides in Macungie, PA.
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I killed one of the characters in my novel.
(It was more like two, but I have no qualms about the second one.)
I came up with a death scene I really liked and just had to use it, so someone had to “go.”
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Nineteen-year-old Helene languishes in a squalid French prison tormented by questions she cannot answer. Why was she arrested? Who could have made a wrongful accusation against her? And if so, why?
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Once in a while you come across a book, that after reading it, makes you pause and think, even marvel because you’ve encountered life from an entirely new perspective. Alison Green Myers’, debut novel, A Bird Will Soar, is such a book.
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Winter.
Lifeless, asleep, dead.
All is gone. Lost.
Until the last frost melts away. -
As the year draws to an end, preparing to close its final chapter, I think of the beach.
It might seem perfectly normal to those of you living in sunny climates, or to snow bunnies hastening away from the cold. But to those of us in areas that have already seen our first snow, it might sound strange.
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