#TuesdayShares
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Humility vs. Fear
There is a humility that is sacred and far more valuable than any tangible thing. Then there is a humility rooted in fear. This humility is not real. It is the mask we wear when we are afraid to step outside of our comfort zones. It is the fear of being “too much.” It is… Continue reading
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Shop Greenwood Dist.
Greenwood, sounds familiar, right? That’s right. Greenwood Dist is named after the Greenwood District of North Tulsa, home of the renowned Black Wallstreet. [You can learn more about Black Wallstreet in an older version of Black History Fun Fact Friday here.] Greenwood Dist. is passionate about “proving that a black-owned business can celebrate black excellence while… Continue reading
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The Wait is Over
I’ve been working on this collection of poetry since I released I am Soul three years ago. So much as happened in that time that most of this year feels like it happened years ago. It feels like Kobe Bryant died in 2019, but then I remember that tragedy happened earlier this year. I have… Continue reading
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Dear Indie Author, Don’t Let People Rush You
It’s easy to get caught up watching everyone else publish their books when you are still writing yours. In the Indie world, people publish frequently; some writers are churning out hits every month. And as we sit there, watching them hit Best Seller’s Lists and USA Today Best Seller’s list, we must fight the urge… Continue reading
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If My Books Shall Die
I read James Baldwin today and realized I was carrying his bones in the crooks of my arms, and that if my books shall die, then I have labored in vain. I have swam through centuries and ran years in someone else’s shoes, I have climbed mountains and crawled under valleys only to bleed death. I have wasted my time carving obsession into paper with invisible ink, Words fallen like stars on deaf ears. If my books shall die, then let me not be born. Take me back to the safety of my mother’s womb, the privacy of not yet existing if my works have been in vain. If my books shall die, then I do not exist. Not on the tops of your shelves, or faced down on kitchen counters, or underneath your children’s beds. Honor me in the palms of your hands and not standing next to Grandmother’s old picture in the living room— Grandmother is dead and I do not wish to die. Give me my flowers today and accept the life I offer you in the form of metaphors On silver platters, For I am feeding you with silver spoons and all you’ve got to do is eat… I… Continue reading
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