When an author walks away from their blog, does it mean they have given up?
I’ve had the opportunity to look at that. My last post on here was over 30 months ago. So much has happened in that time:
-We relocated westward, from Orlando to Saint Petersburg, allowing me to fulfill my ambition of becoming a beach-bum writer.
– A couple of auto accidents and a couple of health scares.
– My younger brother succumbed to pancreatic cancer (more on that in another post).
– My running headlong into a woke group of writers (a hazard in my new home, which seems to harbor fantasies of becoming Seattle on the Gulf). Another post on that is coming soon as well.
– My in-laws moved adjacent to us, giving me something I haven’t had in years – a truly close family dynamic. And yes… another post on that as well.
Of course, the “zombie apocalypse” was upon us and all its associated political drama. It hasn’t really left, but people became so tired of being scared that they just decided to live with it (or die with it).
I fell away from writing and, for a time, became lost, unsure of my direction. But due to some realizations on my part (and deciding to have fun at a game I hadn’t played since high school), I’ve found my way back to being a creative.
Time was lost. I feel that every time I read the news and discover someone else has passed away – people I’ve known directly, who’ve influenced my life and my art. So now, it’s time to find my way back – back to writing, back to creating, back to finding my stories and telling the world.
Thanks for being patient. Welcome back to a storyteller’s world.
D. G. Speirs - Storyteller and Dreamer 
The One About… “More”
How many people, when they hear the phrase, “Black Lives Matter,” add the word “More” to it – as in “Black Lives Matter More.”
It’s not there, but it feels like the gut reaction, the pushback to this moment, is to that. People then feel defensive – “Black lives can’t matter more than all lives do.”
But that misses the point. It isn’t that these lives matter more than others. It’s that these lives have been discounted from the start so that they’ve always mattered less. That stretches back to times even before this nation, this experiment, started.
It’s not that black lives matter more. It’s about the moment when we, as a nation, have to realize they matter just as much.
It’s not a pleasant moment when you realize how ingrained that thinking is into your own being. It hasn’t been for me. But the first part of recovery is being aware you have a problem. It was time for some truth. I appreciate that.
Will I do better? Simple answer, I have to. We all do. And step one for me to understand there is enough recognition to go around for everyone. I need to remember, “Black Lives Matter” does not mean, explicitly or implicitly, that my life doesn’t.
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