Tea and Madness
By- C. Streetlights
Genre- Women's Fiction/Poetry/Memoir
Publication Date- June 29th, 2015
Published By- Booktrope Publishing
"And when it falls into silence again the void it echoes fills me with wonder. Wonder only because I no longer remember if this small entity isn't real or if it whispers the truth."
-Moonlight
C. Streetlight's memoir, Tea & Madness, is a collection of prose and poetry separated into the seasons of her life. Each season is inspired by her experiences: grieving a lost baby, understanding depression, anger, betrayal, surviving rape and the acceptance that she cannot forgive. Balanced somehow within the darkness is the wonder in motherhood and empathetic relationships. As her seasons change, she continues trying to find the balance of existing between normalcy and madness.
Guest Post-
What being an author means to you
I taught English for many years in what I sometimes refer to as my "previous life". I taught writing to 6th graders who were one part children and five parts hormonal whirlwinds. I taught writing to 11th graders who were in a lockdown facility who honestly could not care less about roads diverging in yellow woods unless one of them led the hell out of lockdown and turned a corner past where they came from. And I taught writing at the university level to those who should have taken the class as freshmen but who usually put it off for a variety of reasons.
I have spent a lot of years teaching writing, in turns, as a chore, a test, an exercise, a hurdle, a standard, an art, and a craft -- and I have loved every moment. The multidimensionality of writing thrills me and I loved teaching the beauty and rhythm in words coming alive.
But being a writer, however, is different.
Where I taught writing as a skill, like a gunslinger mastering a revolver in different shootouts, I have learned that being a writer is taming the beast.
There is a certain responsibility in taming a beast, an obligation to not only the public at large that the beast might threaten but to the beast itself. Like the words that live and move inside me, so does the beast. It breathes; it feels; it snarls with palpitating emotion. My words desire most to be heard and be given a voice, and if they must be tamed in order to reach people than that sacrifice is acceptable to me. But not if it means they must be broken.
Being an author, to me, means to never allow my voice be broken. Again.
It happened once before, long ago, when I was just 19 years old. My voice broke so subtly I didn't even recognize it was happening with the first "No!" I shouted.
Authors have a responsibility to the beasts inside themselves, to allow these creatures room to pace and prowl, to roam the night of their hearts. To tame them, give them safe harbor to howl their hurts and then to speak. We speak for what we have tamed, give them voice, and bring them light.
I have spent a lot of years teaching writing, in turns, as a chore, a test, an exercise, a hurdle, a standard, an art, and a craft -- and I have loved every moment. The multidimensionality of writing thrills me and I loved teaching the beauty and rhythm in words coming alive.
But being a writer, however, is different.
Where I taught writing as a skill, like a gunslinger mastering a revolver in different shootouts, I have learned that being a writer is taming the beast.
There is a certain responsibility in taming a beast, an obligation to not only the public at large that the beast might threaten but to the beast itself. Like the words that live and move inside me, so does the beast. It breathes; it feels; it snarls with palpitating emotion. My words desire most to be heard and be given a voice, and if they must be tamed in order to reach people than that sacrifice is acceptable to me. But not if it means they must be broken.
Being an author, to me, means to never allow my voice be broken. Again.
It happened once before, long ago, when I was just 19 years old. My voice broke so subtly I didn't even recognize it was happening with the first "No!" I shouted.
Authors have a responsibility to the beasts inside themselves, to allow these creatures room to pace and prowl, to roam the night of their hearts. To tame them, give them safe harbor to howl their hurts and then to speak. We speak for what we have tamed, give them voice, and bring them light.
About the Author-
She has met many fools, but admires Don Quixote most because he taught her that it didn't matter that the dragon turned out to be a windmill. What mattered was that he chose to fight the dragon in the first place.
Streetlights now lives in the mountains with a husband, two miracle children, and a dog who eats Kleenex. She retired from teaching so she can raise her children to pick up their underwear from the bathroom floor, to write, and to slay windmills and dragons. She is happy to report that she can finally see the stars.
You can follow C. Streetlights on Twitter @cstreetlights, and on Facebook, Instagram and Pinterest at C. Streetlights
Links-
2 comments:
A great post thank you. Stunning cover.
Thank you for stopping by the tour! I have to admit that I am so in love with my cover I'm tempted to make 8x10 of it to hang in my office :)
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