What Freedom Smells Like : A #Memoir by Amy Lewis @AmyLewisAuthor #AmReading #Memoir #Relationships

Why did I stay? I used to yell to the women on Oprah, Why would you stay? I had options. I had a family who loved me, who would take care of me if I left. I wasn’t married to him nor did we have children together. The only tie we had was the business, and on paper we owned it fifty/fifty. Why put up with this? What is wrong with you?

I don’t have a good answer. Not a logical one, only emotional answers. When I fell in love with him, I fell too far to get out on my own. Maybe this was the “has difficulty functioning in a way society accepts as normal” part of my borderline personality. I saw the abusive Truth as an imposter, and the real Truth, the one I loved, was locked somewhere inside. If I tried hard enough, loved deeply enough, I could find him. I might even say – rescue him. 

As my self-esteem began to shatter, it became impossible to put me back together, and shattered young women do not make the best rescuers. When Truth exploded, along with the hitting, he threatened me with much worse actions if I didn’t stay in line. “I’ll kill you; I’ll kill your entire family.” The threats felt even more painful than when he laid hands on me; eventually the physical abuse came only in spurts – maybe once or twice one month then no flair ups for a few months. He had learned how to control me without it – just a look would be enough.

During the abuse, I split myself into many different parts. Time stretched and molded to fit my needs. The tiniest expression of love or moment of joy – a good night – expanded like a rubber band into a whole month. The moments of greatest fear and terror collapsed into a blink of the eye. I became author of my own fictional tale. I used my imagination to create a portrait of a livable life. If you keep your eyes closed and your mouth shut, you can exist forever in that state. If you saw me on the street and asked how I was doing. I would smile and say fine. I’m doing just fine. If you weren’t really paying attention, you would believe me.

Sometimes during our worst fights, everything seemed to happen in slow motion, and an orchestral score played in the background. The strings increased in intensity as I retreated away from him, the beating of the percussions as he followed me, the flutes as I tried to calm him, as his hands met my body, the crescendo hit with symbols clapping together at the finale of a symphony. 

I heard the music we listened to in my dreams as two cultured, mature adults in love and enjoying the arts. As I reached up to my face or back or stomach or chest to feel the damage, I heard the audience applauding, jumping to their feet with a standing ovation. Bravo! Bravo! Tears started to pour out of me, and the rest of the audience, inspired by the music. The show had ended, and as the sophisticated, art-appreciating couples walked to their cars to begin talking about how the music reminded them of this or that, Truth came to me and apologized. He didn’t mean for it to go this far. His most vulnerable expressions to me came directly after his explosions. How everything felt wrong. How he shouldn’t let stress do this to him. How it would never happen again.

Diagnosed with Borderline Personality disorder, Amy struggled with depression and an addiction to sharp objects. Even hospitalization didn't help to heal her destructive tendencies. It took a tumultuous relationship with a man named Truth to bring her back from the depths of her own self-made hell.Amy's marriage to dark, intriguing Truth was both passionate and stormy. She was a fair-skinned southern girl from New Orleans. He was a charming black man with tribal tattoos, piercings, and a mysterious past. They made an unlikely pair, but something clicked. During their early marriage, they pulled themselves out of abject poverty into wealth and financial security practically overnight. Then things began to fall apart.

 Passionate and protective, Truth also proved violent and abusive. Amy’s own self-destructive tendencies created a powerful symmetry. His sudden death left Amy with an intense and warring set of emotions: grief for the loss of the man she loved, relief she was no longer a target for his aggression.

Conflicted and grieving, Amy found herself at a spiritual and emotional crossroads, only to receive help from an unlikely source: Truth himself. Feeling his otherworldly presence in her dreams, Amy seeks help from a famous medium.

Her spiritual encounters change Amy forever. Through Truth, she learns her soul is eternal and indestructible, a knowledge that gives Amy the courage to pursue her own dreams and transform herself both physically and emotionally. Her supernatural encounters help Amy resolve the internal anger and self-destructive tendencies standing between her and happiness, culminating in a sense of spiritual fulfillment she never dreamed possible.

An amazing true story, What Freedom Smells Like is told with courage, honesty, and a devilishly dark sense of humor.

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Genre – Memoir

Rating – PG-13

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Website www.WhatFreedomSmellsLike.com

@GaryTroia Shares 10 Tips for Becoming a Better Writer #SelfPub #ShortStories #WriteTip

1, The first tip is essential and obvious. If you want to be a decent writer: Read a lot and write a lot. If you want to be an athlete: Eat well and train hard.

2, Read excellent writers and classics. See how they go about the craft.

3, Read poor writers for no other reason than to feel better about yourself.

4, If you want to excel at anything, discipline is the key. Set achievable goals that can be reached every day.

5, There is no such thing as writers’ block. If you think you have it, write about your day. I have never heard of bricklayer’s block, or surgeon’s block, or…you get the point, don’t you?

6, Don’t force yourself to learn new words, you learn new words naturally by reading.

7, Don’t try to write like you think a writer should write, just write like only you know how to write.

8, Write quicker than your doubts can form.

9, Write a first draft with freedom and without a critical eye. Add a critical eye on all subsequent drafts.

10, The last tip is as important as the first. If you want to be a decent writer: Read a lot and write a lot.

For the first time ever, this collection of short stories by Gary Troia brings together, in chronological order stories and memoirs from Spanish Yarns and Beyond, English Yarns and Beyond and A Bricklayer’s Tales into one complete volume.

“Excellent! A collection of short stories about depression, alcoholism and drug use. Very compelling reading. I read this short story collection all in one go.” (Maria, Goodreads.)

A Bricklayer’s Tales is the ultimate “I hate this job” story, written as a collection of short stories and memoirs, each one revealing a snapshot in the life of Ray. Troia captures the tedium of working in a low paid, menial job and living hand to mouth. This book of short stories is sad and questions the reader to ask questions about their own life. This book achieves clarity without trying.

Ray has three expensive hobbies: drinking, drugs, and running away. Without the income that Bricklaying provides, he would not be able to maintain his chosen lifestyle, so he compromises his principles and continues with his trade.

A collection of short stories and memoirs that include:

The Cuckoo’s Egg. Boyhood antics lead to tragedy.

My Grandfather’s Shed. The making of an English key

No Comb on the Cock. Gypsies, champion fighting cocks, and career choices.

What I Did In My Summer Holidays In 1000 Words. Could having an idea ever be considered a criminal act?

My Best Mate’s Head. Did a weekend of boozing save Ray from certain death?

The Shetland Isles. A trip to sunny Benidorm, a chance meeting with some Glaswegians, and a cold, miserable job in Lerwick.

Pointing a House in Islington. Too much alcohol and cocaine don’t mix well on building sites!

Angel Dust. The peculiar story of a man whose new life in America leads to conversations with Ancient Greek philosophers

Peyote. Hippies, LSD and an idyllic refuge

Return Ticket. Handcuffed and ready for deportation. A sad departure from the States

When I Joined a Cult. Sober dating as Ray discovers religion.

Bilbao. How very, very English!

Teaching Other People. The grass is always greener-the escape from bricklaying.

A Week in the Life of Ray Dennis. With the prospect of no money for food or alcohol this Christmas, Ray has to find work quickly.

Catania. A meeting with a Sicilian fox, some Neapolitans, and a man with a camel haired coat.

Advert In The Art Shop Window. Will a new building job in Spain be the start of a new life?

Gaudi. A flight to Barcelona for a kebab, and a look at the Sagrada Familia.

The Day My Soul Left Me. “To be or not to be? That is the question”

How Not to Travel to The Alhambra. Hung-over, the wrong fuel, the car breaks down. Will they ever make it to Granada?

The Road To Ronda. A terrifying drive to Ronda, was it worth it?

Poking A Carob Tree. A new home and new neighbours, just in time for Christmas.

Spain Reborn.No more commuting to London. Lets celebrate!

Home From Home. A parallel world where the Spanish have taken over Weymouth.

Three Common Carp.An epic battle with a whale and marlin it is not.

Mrs. McClintock. An absurd farce in which a Glaswegian couple retire to Spain

Steak, Egg and Intensive Care. A harmless dinner leads to hospitalisation.

The Unchangeable Chameleon. Can a leopard change it’s spots?

A Bricklayer’s Tale. The story of a disillusioned, alcoholic bricklayer

A collection short stories and memoirs of British dark humour.

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 Genre - Fiction, Short Stories

Rating - PG-16

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Connect with Gary Troia on Facebook & Twitter

The Other Side of the Ice #Excerpt by @TheobaldSprague #Memoir #Climate #Divorce

As we rolled into the next day and the sun was illuminating the fog around us, Dominique saw an extremely large target that wasn’t moving, especially out of our way. The persistent, heavy fog that had settled in around 2 a.m. gave an ethereal feel to a light not quite twilight or dawn. Yet what was now showing up on the radar four miles to the north was so large neither fog nor low light could hide it; our first official sighting of an ice- berg was an amazingly impressive one in that this berg had to have been at least a thousand feet long and more than 100 feet high. The fog was playing tricks in that first this “thing” was there, then it wasn’t. When I could see it, my immediate impression of the massive hulk in the fog was that of an aircraft carrier. It had to be, nothing was that big and tall and actually moved.

As there wasn’t sufficient light to photograph it, Dominique and I went through every possibility we could so that we could define it for the others as they revolved into the watch schedule; there were no rectangular, steep-sided islands charted for the area and it was too irregular to be any sort of cargo ship. Looking at it through the glasses, we could see the jagged and rough outline it presented against the northern sky. There was no doubting that it was truly a mountain of ice. And, as the minutes ticked by, our sighting was confirmed by the presence of several others—albeit not half as large— mini-islands of ice. By now all were up and crammed into the pilothouse, all with cameras in hand and soft exclamations about the size and power of these giants. The first sighting of ice is one that I will never forget. It’s no exaggeration when I realized that the icebergs held power, strength, drive, and a presence that could truly not care less about who you are or where it is you

want to go. They travel along silently. Seas break against their frozen and rock-hard surfaces, exploding with furious impotence as this massive structure of blue-brown-white ice keeps its determined course. Yet, as we were to learn, their presence wasn’t always known. A few hours later, I’d rotated out of watch and was below cleaning up when I heard Dominique say from the pilothouse, “Jesus, that one didn’t even show up on radar.”

It was hard to ignore such a comment so I went up to join her and immediately saw that we were now in the company of many more of these floating, silent icy sentinels and, sure enough, a particularly large one about three miles off our bows failed to register even as much as a blip on the radars. Yet some smaller ones, perhaps the size of Volkswagen Beetles, stood out bright and conspicuous on the green electronic screens.

All through that foggy morning, as many sets of eyes that were available were glued to either one of the two radars as ice targets and bearings were called out to the helmsman of the hour.

No exaggeration to say there were five sets of nerves on a knife edge. As the hours ticked by and the heat of the morning sun started to cook off some of the fog, we became more accustomed to the ice and a bit emboldened. I asked Clinton to take us closer to a particularly large iceberg that had amazing shapes, ledges, tiny waterfalls, and brilliant deep, ice-blue colors glowing from within. Very capably and with great precision, Clinton all but driftedBagan up to this massive berg.

On the grand scale of things, it was far from massive but when you’re in a boat one-tenth its size, it fit the definition of “massive.”

A sailor and his family’s harrowing and inspiring story of their attempt to sail the treacherous Northwest Passage.

Sprague Theobald, an award-winning documentary filmmaker and expert sailor with over 40,000 offshore miles under his belt, always considered the Northwest Passage–the sea route connecting the Atlantic to the Pacific–the ultimate uncharted territory. Since Roald Amundsen completed the first successful crossing of the fabled Northwest Passage in 1906, only twenty-four pleasure craft have followed in his wake. Many more people have gone into space than have traversed the Passage, and a staggering number have died trying. From his home port of Newport, Rhode Island, through the Passage and around Alaska to Seattle, it would be an 8,500-mile trek filled with constant danger from ice, polar bears, and severe weather.

What Theobald couldn’t have known was just how life-changing his journey through the Passage would be. Reuniting his children and stepchildren after a bad divorce more than fifteen years earlier, the family embarks with unanswered questions, untold hurts, and unspoken mistrusts hanging over their heads. Unrelenting cold, hungry polar bears, and a haunting landscape littered with sobering artifacts from the tragic Franklin Expedition of 1845, as well as personality clashes that threaten to tear the crew apart, make The Other Side of the Ice a harrowing story of survival, adventure, and, ultimately, redemption.

( TO WATCH THE OFFICIAL HD TEASER FOR “The Other Side of The Ice” [book and documentary] PLEASE GO TO: VIMEO.COM/45526226) 

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Genre – Memoir, adventure, family, climate

Rating – PG

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 Connect with Sprague Theobald on Facebook & Twitter

Website www.spraguetheobald.com

Maximum Insecurity: A Doctor in the Supermax by William Wright M.D. @kindleexpert #amreading #free

After three decades as a successful ear surgeon, William Wright, MD is bored beyond belief. He dabbles with retirement, but finds idleness infuriating. He has to do something.

Then he sees an ad for a doctor’s position from the Colorado Department of Corrections at a supermax prison. Now that, he thinks, would be different. His wife has some thoughts on the matter too. She thinks her husband just lost his mind and is on a collision course with a prison shiv.

After his first day on the job, he wonders if she wasn’t onto something. His first patient is an arrogant, callous youth convicted of five cold-blooded murders. Dr. Wright has to steel himself not to bolt.

Nothing prepares a doctor for life at the Colorado State Penitentiary. He quickly discovers treating maximum security convicts is like treating recalcitrant murderous four-year-olds. Always willing to threaten their doctors with bodily harm, they are more interested in scamming drugs than treatment.

Told with self-depreciating humor and scathing wit, Maximum Insecurity describes Dr. Wright’s adventures practicing medicine in a supermax correctional facility without, he’s glad to say, getting killed even once.

Maximum Insecurity: A Doctor in the Supermax by William Wright M.D.

Amazon Kindle US

Rating – PG-13

Genre – Non Fiction

4.4 (21 reviews)

Free until 4 February 2014