E is for Extrovert

Are you someone who is a friendly person who enjoys talking to and being with other people? Extroverts love parties, talking on the phone, and meeting new people.

I am not an extrovert yet I’m not an introvert.

An introvert generally prefers solitary activities to interacting with large groups of people. If you would rather work through your feelings in your diary than have a conversation, then you are an introvert.

Okay, so I’m more of an introvert than I think, however, I like spending time with my friends and I like the idea of going to a party to network, make new friends all while being the dynamic person I am, but when it comes down to the brass taxes I would recoil and slink back into my bedroom or sofa and do what my comfort zone prefers. Writing or watching a movie with my partner who is also hybrid introvert. He is comfortable with going to parties and talking to strangers but would rather be with close friends having meaningful conversations that stick with you for days.

So, what am I? I’m in-between the introvert and extrovert.

Ambivert: Someone who exhibits qualities of both introversion and extroversion.

Which explanation sounds more like you?

  • I am drawn to people, I get energy from social gatherings and am pretty outgoing. (Extrovert)
  • It’s draining to be around lots of people. I prefer peace, solitude and quiet time. I usually crave alone time in my free time. (Introvert)
  • It depends. (Ambivert)

I get more energy from being with one or two of my friends, and being by myself emerged in writing. I think that equals being an ambivert. Which personality do you sway towards? There are many tests online to take but my gut tells me what the body, mind and spirit needs to maintain the balance of this beautiful creative life.

Until next time, keep on typing….







Thank you Science of People


D is for Diving

Diving deeper into your passions can be scary but so exciting and rewarding all at the same time.

When I was younger taking swimming lessons, the Original Canadian Red Cross Water Safety classes with different colored badges, yellow for beginner all the way to white for water sport safety. I loved getting the Water Safety Programme Personal Report Card, well until my instructor said I needed to work on my diving before I could advance to the next level.

Standing on the spring board when you are eight or nine with an instructor telling you to keep the board still is hard. Trying to focus on your hands being over your head to prepare to jump and dive into the water and then thinking how you don’t want the water to go up your nose all at the same time while your mother and everyone else’s parent is watching. Keeping the spring board still while I jump is the last thing on my mind.

Eventually I learned howto dive without the spring board moving and I could quickly dive into the water without a sound. I would practice after swim class and any chance I could get to the pool. I was determined to get my next swim badge and I didn’t want to be scared of what people thought if I didn’t dive perfectly. The swim lessons taught me that practice does help you get better at whatever you are working on.

If you want to be a writer, you must do two things above all others: read a lot and write a lot. ~ Stephen King

Much like learning how to dive, I use the same determination to focus on my writing. The more I write the more I get a little better with each word that is set on the page.

Until next time, keep on typing….


Ready, set, write…



This is what makes sense in my life…Write for 15 minutes – prompt, answer, prompt again, answer.

Are you ready? The timer has started.

I recently heard that blogging is not as it use to be about five years ago. This maybe true, but for me blogging makes sense in my life at the moment as blogging gets me here on the page and that is what makes sense in my life. Writing makes sense in my life. Why? The list is ever-growing. I’m here to tell a story and yes I should be spending this fifteen minutes on my work in progress that I want to finish editing and revising by mid-march, it all makes sense to me. The process of writing, the process of sharing the writing, the process of learning more about writing, promoting, marketing, all of it makes sense to me. What doesn’t make sense to me is the procrastinating that settles in when I’m not looking. All of a sudden three or four episodes of whatever Netflix original has gone by and I wonder why the hell I feel so tired. Because I’ve been wasting precious time on something that does not fuel my soul, it feeds the ego and the old behavior of what feels comfortable. If I’m going to change and I’m going to go after what really matters in life, then I have to do something different. That is the truth.


This is what makes sense in my life. That I’ve been bouncing from place to place. I mean I’ve been guided to beautiful places in Canada, I’ve flown across the country from the east coast to live on top of one of the most beautiful Canadian rocky mountains to work and to experience life, this was to add to my creative life, this makes sense to me. The fact that I was with a company that transferred their employees to other beautiful resorts and hotels was a blessing, that made total sense to me. At the time I took it for granted, but deep down I knew that I was in the right place at the right time and I went with the flow, it all made perfect sense. I knew I was a story-teller from the start, I knew I was here to share this talent that has been given to me, a gift so precious that it almost seems like a secret that I shouldn’t share, but why would I think that? Anyone else who has the gift to tell a great story hasn’t held back, look at J.K. Rowling, Stephen King, Danielle Steel, Nora Roberts, my goodness they keep writing and keep sharing, why wouldn’t they? Why wouldn’t I?


What makes sense to me is that I am procrastinating from time to time and the excuse of my full-time job is really pissing me off – it’s no excuse, it’s the old behaviour wanting to sit on the sofa and numb the creative being into Netflix submission. That makes no sense to me what so ever, so what am I going to do about it? Get off the sofa, go into my writing room that I’ve been manifesting for most of my life yet don’t spend as much time in there as I have fantasized about, and write, or at least spend time there to give my writing room my energy, to keep giving it time to settle with me, to idle and let the words flow and be with the creativity as it should be. That makes sense to me, to spend time with those who support me and strengthen my abilities as I would do the same for them. Creativity has supported me for this long and it’s time for me to support the talent that has been so graciously loving me. I’m tired of hearing myself be upset hat I didn’t spend time with my writing, so it only makes sense to me that I continue to fight hard to be with it, stay away from the distractions that numb the senses, and go for it, go for the truth and be here on the page!

Well that was a quick 15 minutes – nothing a good rant onto the page won’t fix, or at least have some eye-opening moments.

What makes sense to you? Ready, set, write.

Until next time, keep on typing. . . .


I’m Getting There


I didn’t write a lot last week, it was an unexpectedly busy week at the hotel life or should I say it was a week of procrastination that I wasn’t involved with and could not avoid at the same time. Sound weird, well it was and it feels strange to be this far away from writing, but you know what? I’m here now, with you words being tapped onto the blank page and I feel like no time has passed, well except that I’m behind on my word counts, but you get what I mean. I’m back where I am to be, right here and now.


On Friday night after I got home from work, I wanted to write using one of the writing prompts I stocked up on from a friend, but the cards were in another room and I was pretty comfy on the sofa. It was a long day at the hotel life. I was wearing my HR hat for most of the day which I love, yet it can be a bit emotionally draining. Either way I had fun and now my true self is like, ‘um, come on, let’s play!’ So I searched on-line for some writing prompts and I found 365 writing prompts, perfect! I don’t know why, but this was the one I was drawn to, well I have a niggle of why I chose this one:

Closed Doors: What’s behind the door? Why is it closed?

I think I will start the timer for ten minutes and see what happens. Are you ready? I challenge you to write with me, explore the closed-door.


The door is closed and I want to know why. A part of my mind, the darker side, the part that I don’t usually let out most of the times has stepped up and taken the mic. It wants to speak up and tell a story. What kind of story, I do not know, but I do know. Deep down I know how I can slip into the dark side of things, I think the worst case scenario and run with it, let it take over my entire self and let it live as it wants to, as it was intended. I’m a good person, yet there is a piece of me that is very aware that I can be dark and mysterious. But why is the door closed? Where is this door? Why am  I seeing a door closed? Maybe it’s a character that sees the door closed and when they look in the peep-hole they can see very clearly what is happening behind that closed-door. Is it a murder, an affair, and loving moment, a celebration?


There is a man at the door with his hand on the door handle. He knocks first and says a name, Miranda. He knows she’s behind the door. He can almost smell her soft scent of vanilla, she is a baker in a small boutique bakery and she always seems to smell like cookies. He loved that about her, but she didn’t. Behind the door, Miranda is in her bathroom trying to scrub the smell of sweetness off her skin. She uses a fresh bar of soap and rubs away. She hears the knock at the door and she stops suddenly.


She faintly remembers the voice on the other side of the door, she walks through her living room to the front door. She turns the door handle slowly, she is cautious, she wasn’t expecting anyone. She opens the door even more slowly and sees a man at the door, he is someone she has seen, but doesn’t know her.

Can I help you? Miranda can feel her arms numbing from the hard soap on her skin.

I was going to ask you the same question. 

The timer has stopped and I wonder where this story will end up going? It’s fun to let creativity take over and have fun. Just let go of the day and let it all be right here and now. Did you’re closed-door have a story? Set your timer for ten minutes and have fun.

Until next time, keep on typing . . . .







Thanks to thinkwritten for the 365 writing prompts that you can find here

Funny things about dreams


I vowed I would post two blogs a week and so far so good. I set a goal of using writing prompt cards from a friend, but today’s blog is going to be a little different. I have written a blog from the writing prompts, but creativity has another agenda and I am following the path. I had a dream and it has been with me for days now.


They say if something appears to you several times to pay attention. Like an idea about a book or business.
With in less than 24 hours, I’ve been presented with the notion of Paris.
First during a dream, I witnessed a woman touch a man’s face softly saying, Let it go Brock, it’s Paris.
Then at the gym, I heard a song about Paris and as I was searching for a picture to post about dreaming, the picture above shows up. Talk about a A-ha moment. Hello? My muse cries out as she knocks on my head.


A few days have passed, and the whispers of Let it go Brock, it’s Paris, lingers in my mind. I have questions, who is Brock? What is it about Paris that I should know or look into? Or is it about the dream?


As I walked to the coffee shop to meet up with my friend, Jacqui Nelson for our Sunday morning writing sessions, I thought about the statement, Let it go Brock, it’s Paris, and I thought maybe I should write the story just like I witnessed it in my dream, and I can still see certain images from the dream, when some mornings I can barely grasp on the last image I might have witnessed during the REM state. So, let’s go ahead and try to write a little more about Brock and this woman.


I might be dreaming. I’m waiting in a line, outside, it’s a snow-covered trail, there are many people in this line, waiting, shuffling along, I don’t see the end of the line or the beginning. I don’t even know why we are in line? It’s not cold out, the snow-covered trail is pretty, I still don’t know what I am here. The woman I witnessing this dream through is watching a man with soft grey eyes, dark brown hair with flex’s of grey, maybe salt and pepper, but not as much as grey as you’d imagine. He’s wearing a navy blue pea-coat that gives him that certain mysterious look. The man looks sad as his gaze lingers past her. The woman reaches her hand towards the mans face, she softly glides her finger tips along his chiseled jaw line and whispers

Let it go Brock, it’s Paris.

They begin to walk, the line has moved, the people in front of them are quite ahead of them. I can hear the woman say over and over, Let it go Brock, it’s Paris, it rings in the mans mind. They approach the line with more people waiting on the snow-covered trail, it begins to lightly snow. The man and woman see an older man looking for his wife who is behind the couple. Then older couple finds one another and embraces with passion, as if they hadn’t seen each other for years and it was only a moment ago.

Then my alarm goes off, but I can not forget the lingering whisper, let it go Brock, it’s Paris…


Who is Brock? Is Paris the city or is it another person? Is the woman his lover? Is this small statement like ‘we’ll always have Paris?’ did they met in Paris? What is it about this six word sentence that has the creative mind stirring? I wanted to write it down so I could continue with my editing of my NaNoWriMo project – my weekly goals have been 50% met, I’ve written two and posted two blogs which I feel really good about. However, I haven’t done any work on my work in progress. I’ve slipped back into the hotel life and my ego has sucked me back in with its old behavior’s of “thinking” it’s okay to sit around doing nothing after work. Sorry ego, you’re wrong. I must write, edit, work on my passion any time I get a chance. I’ve waited to long and have been quiet for far too long. It’s time to turn up the volume on this great voice that has been given to me.

I am grateful for this idea and I will let the imagination run wild, let’s see what we can come up.

Until next time, keep on typing. . . .


Vacation Time!


When you go on vacation do you take most of your writing material with you? Do you worry that you might forget one reference book that you vow to flip through while on the plane or your destination of relaxation? Anytime I go away now, the first bag that is packed it my writing bag. I make sure I have a hard copy of my work in progress, a reference book, most likely a Julia Cameron book, a few pens, a journal, flash drive, sticky notes and that bag stays open until I am ready to head out the door. The last item that goes in my writing bag is my laptop and even then it comes out of the bag while I am waiting to board the plane and again when the plane takes off. I am not very far from a piece of paper or laptop to work on my craft. I am not too far for creativity to find me at any given moment.


I have expressed how grateful I am for my hotel job and I am going to be completely honest here, I am very grateful that I am going on vacation. To step away from the day job to head on an adventure is all part of the job. Sometimes you need to get away to recharge and get the appreciation back in sync. These past few weeks I have been off my game with my writing. A little more day job and a little less creativity. I am very aware that I need to spend more time with my imagination and creativity. They haven’t gone anywhere, they are always right here with me, waiting patiently for me. For this, I am very grateful.


Creativity isn’t something vague that we are going to do. It is something real that we actually do do It is the refusal to sell ourselves short by short-changing out artists with empty talk. ~ Julia Cameron


This particular vacation is back to Nova Scotia, where I was born, where I am from, is about visiting family and relaxing and most importantly to write. To hunker down and work on the second memoir. A goal that I set over ten years ago and time has slipped by quickly. My frustration of my own actions fills me at times and I am very aware that I am the only one who can change. This vacation is about recharging and finding my balance again. Finding where my 40 plus hours a job and creativity can be in sync. I won’t lie, there are times, more than I like to count, that my day job consumes me more than I like, more than creativity cares for. I can feel it, I can feel creativity and imagination crying out ‘what are you doing!’ Maybe a little of my fear peeks around the corner and temporarily paralyzes me.


Often, when we are afraid to try to make what we really want to make, we will say. “I can’t make that.” The truth is, we could, but we are frightened to try: Not trying, we do not really know whether we could or couldn’t make or heart’s desire. ~ Julia Cameron.

girl writes a letter

The thing is, is that I am trying, I am trying every damn day! I get up and write morning pages every morning and as I set my intentions to write after work, I break that intention. I end up staying later at work, come home, make dinner, then putter around the house, watch an episode of Netflix’s, Luke Cage. I know what I am doing and I choose to keep doing it. I am trying to not to procrastinate my creativity away, there is something in the way and it’s time to kick it to the curb. I am a write, read my ROAR!

I guess I went off a little track, I was focused on the theme of vacation which sparked the fuel of the matter at hand. Creativity, imagination, writing. Hope you are doing well.

Until next time, keep on typing. . . .