Tag Archives: creativity

Excerpt from Conference Call

This is the excerpt from my short story in the Bella Books anthology “Conference Call.” All of the proceeds from this anthology go to benefit the Golden Crown Literary Society. If you want the rest of the story, buy the book – available July 20th here.

It was an affair. It was a tawdry affair between two women who should have known better. That’s what we all thought. We watched it happen at the Golden Crown Literary Society conference in DC. There was a palpable energy between them that the most sensitive of us noticed immediately. We sat in the lobby with our coffee, water, and breakfast sandwiches and watched as Maddie walked past the registration desk. Her eyes scanned the room and we held our breath, wanting her gaze to fall on us, to pick us out of the crowd. Maddie moved through the conference with the grace and confidence of someone who felt at home at the con and we all watched her. But Justine sat up like a prairie dog and Maddie’s eyes landed on her. Time froze, or we did, as the electricity between the two of them exploded into a million pieces in front of us.

Justine stood and crossed the room, her eyes locked on Maddie as she walked. They hugged and somehow, we all felt the press of their bodies, felt the way their arms wove around each other, their hips pressed together. From that second on, we were invisible. We sat in on their author readings and we went to their panels, but we were invisible. Oh, Maddie still smiled and laughed with us, and she answered our questions, but her mind was always somewhere else. When Justine walked in the room, a lightning bolt of energy sizzled between them and the rest of us disappeared. Though Maddie would turn back to talk to us, a secret smile remained, and we knew Justine had somehow touched a part of her that no one else ever had.

We stood next to them at the lunch buffet, watching as they carefully didn’t touch. Their bodies craned toward each other until they caught themselves and rearranged the space between them to an appropriate distance. We could feel the pull as they found seats next to each other at a table. They made conversation with people nearby but their arms somehow kept touching or they bumped hands as they ate.

We whispered words like adultery and cheating and homewrecker. It was an affair and we didn’t approve. We heard whispers that Justine was emotionally abused at home and we nodded righteously. Justine was married and we didn’t care how unhappily. She should leave first. There’s no excuse for adultery.

Maddie was partnered and we didn’t know if there were long, lonely nights crying in bed. It didn’t matter. It was an affair. That’s what we all thought. But we watched them laugh together at shared jokes no one else found funny. We felt the emotion underneath the attraction. It was starting to look like something more.

We saw them standing close, heads bent together, having a quiet, intense conversation. Justine blinked out a tear and Maddie brushed it away softly, her fingers lingering on the smooth skin of Justine’s cheek. They didn’t see us, though we passed quite close.  Love of my life, we thought we heard one of them mutter. We overheard them talking several times, and we marveled at the conversations. I’ve never felt so accepted in my life. I can’t remember ever being so heard.
We sat behind them at the movie and watched the way their shoulders touched as they leaned together. We nudged each other knowingly when Maddie put her arm around Justine, secure perhaps, in the invisibility of the darkened room. We ended up at the same table during karaoke and we watched the ways their eyes flicked toward each other whenever someone butchered a particularly sappy love song. We heard the sighs, we saw the longing, and we felt the pain and ecstasy. We started to smile at them during master classes and some of us were whispering the word love.

One day we walked behind them through the garden path of the hotel, and we saw their hands come together. Their fingers entwined and they looked at each other. For a second our hearts stopped. We questioned our own lives. We wondered if it could happen to us. We thought about our own long lonely nights and bitter tears. We remembered the deep love we felt for the friends and partners we’d met at the conference. We touched the hands of our lovers and smiled, wondering if Maddie and Justine felt what we felt. We wondered if they had experienced that jolt, that moment of recognition. We remembered the instant we had looked into each other’s eyes and knew that somehow, after all of the years of feeling out of sorts, we finally felt the last piece of the puzzle slipping naturally into place. We looked at their faces and thought, if only for a minute, that just maybe they were feeling the same thing we felt when we knew we had finally found the one.

It was an affair. That’s what we all thought.

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Eating Life Promo

Eating Life promo flyer

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June 28, 2017 · 6:36 pm

Eating Life excerpt

Eating Life CoverLater, as they were lying in bed eating yogurt and granola, Anna asked Brilliant why she always laughed when she reached for the dildo.

“I never told you that story?”

“Come on,” Anna said. “I want to hear it.”

Brilliant opened her mouth and Anna obliged by spooning some yogurt in. Clearing her throat, Brilliant straightened up a bit, stretching one long leg over Anna’s thigh. “Columbus Gay Pride, 1996. I was there with a hot butch mechanic.”

“I forgot you date butches, too,” Anna said, smiling. “Is that weird?”

“I like women, Anna. Butch or femme or, like me, something in between.”

“I don’t have a problem with that. It’s just strange to picture you with anyone that isn’t me,” Anna replied.

“Yeah, imagine how I feel,” Brilliant said.

“We made a pact that we wouldn’t talk about Megan,” Anna said, shifting slightly away from Brilliant.

“I’m sorry. I keep breaking the rules. First I fall in love with you. Then I start a dialogue about your partner. Next thing you know, I’ll be asking you to leave her.”

“That can’t happen,” Anna said. “And I don’t want to have a dialogue about it.”

“Everyone leaves me, Anna. Everyone. My parents, my grandparents, my brother. Why don’t you just promise to stay with me?”

Anna glared. “Why don’t you start dating women who are unattached?”

Brilliant sighed. “I don’t know. Maybe I would rather date someone I know is going to disappoint me than put my trust in someone and be let down again.”

“Are we going to process your bad relationship choices all day?” Anna asked.

“We’re lesbians, Anna.” Brilliant grinned. “We process everything.”

Anna leaned over and tweaked one of Brilliant’s nipples. “Process this,” she said.

“Ahem. Continuing my story,” Brilliant said, pulling Anna snugly against her. “Gay Pride. Some dude in a leather thong was walking around selling raffle tickets.”

“Okay.” Anna giggled. She dipped her finger into the yogurt and smeared a bit on Brilliant’s nipple. Leaning down to lick it off, she motioned for the rest of the story.

“Of course I bought a few. They were only a dollar. I had no idea what they were for, but I couldn’t resist a man in a leather thong selling raffle tickets for a dollar apiece. It was so stereotypical gay pride.”

“I can see that,” Anna said, releasing the nipple. “So, what happened?”

What happened? Pre-order Eating Life on Amazon or ask for it at your favorite local bookstore and find out

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New Year’s Resolutions

This year, I will not make any resolutions that imply I am anything other than perfectly wonderful just the way I am. I will not make any resolutions meant to make me feel bad about myself, nor will I make any sweeping pronouncements about how I want to be thinner, smarter, better, more.

This year, I won’t make any New Year’s resolutions that aren’t expressly intended to make me or my loved ones feel good about themselves.

This year, I resolve to practice self-care. This year, I’d like to treat my body with loving care. I want to spend more time at the farmer’s market and less time at big box stores. I would like to walk more, bike more, eat more vegetables. I would like to spend more time dancing. I want to save the money for a few pedicures. I want to make sure my sex life stays fresh and loving and invigorating. I want to sleep soundly. I resolve to hug my dog daily. I resolve to spend more time playing with my cat.

This year, I want to connect more. I resolve to send more paper letters. I want to reach out to someone who hasn’t heard from me in a long time. I would like to smile at more people. I want to compliment strangers. I want to tell my friends when they are wonderful and let it go when they are not. I want to appreciate the people who love me. I want to continue to be grateful for calling a partner into my life who loves me and shows me in a billion different ways. This year, I want to talk to my mother more often. I’d like to have more women come to my house for talks and coffee and shared breakfasts. I’d like to touch my friends more, hold their hands, hug them, ask them if they are lonely, or if they are living their dreams. I want to help people who need help.

This year, I want to spend time focusing on my career. I want to finish my fourth novel and start my fifth. I would like to submit at least one more short story this year than last. I want to find ways to market my self-love classes to a wider audience. I would like to network with other writers and teachers. I want to find a job teaching online with a college or university.

This year, I would like to stress less about paying bills. I don’t want to buy more stuff, but I would like to be able to pay the electric bill and my mortgage in the same week. I don’t want to be rich, but I want to be unafraid of where the next groceries are coming from. This year, I want to put some effort into making enough money that I can make decisions about spending, rather than reactions. This year, I’d like to make enough money that I can donate some of it to causes that touch my heart.

This year I want to stay informed about political decisions that can harm myself and my family without letting the news drag me into a depression. I want to act to protect myself and my loved ones without allowing myself to be silenced about that which is important to me.

This year, I want to be myself. I want to do what I want to do. I want to follow the calling of my own soul. This year, I resolve to be proud of myself. I resolve to follow my dreams. I want to love freely and live openly.

This year, I will cherish what I have, rather than pursue what I don’t.

Happy New Year.

 

 

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New Set of Creating Self Love classes…. and a part two!

By popular demand, Continued Self Love is now live. Starting May 5 at 8 PM EST, I will be doing a part two to the online Creating Self Love classes. I’ll also be starting a new set of the original self love classes. Monday, May 4th at 9:00 PM EST and Wed, May 6th at 8:00 PM EST. Email me for more information. Classes are limited to ten each, so register quickly by emailing bethburnett70@yahoo.com

The classes are six week online courses that cover everything from abolishing negative self talk to dealing with toxic people to overcoming self doubt and fear. I charge sixty dollars for a six week class. I give some lectures, show slides, have a few in class assignments and give homework. Homework is not mandatory, but it does help to participate in the class.The class includes a weekly one hour online class and access to the Facebook page for mid week support, encouragement, and positive posts. The students have thrived in this course and it has allowed many of them to start living a more joyful life of self love. I have some students who have learned to conquer anxiety, some who have lessened panic attacks, some who have just used the course as a refresher to living in joy. The women in these classes are inspired to make positive changes in their lives, whether the change is going back to school or learning to stop being so hard on themselves. Come join me for this journey into self confidence and joy.

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Why I Love my Fat Body – And Why You Should, Too.

Whenever I see pictures of fat women (almost exclusively women) posted online, I inevitably see a bunch of comments about how sickening it is to glorify fat because it is so unhealthy. Bodies come in all degrees of health. There are skinny unhealthy people and fat healthy people and everything in between. If you are using the illogical fallacy of fat being unhealthy to fuel your hatred, you might as well go onto a page of people with heart disease and spout off about how ugly their chest scars are. At any rate, if you’re the kind of person who goes to the comments on posts like that just so you can talk about how unhealthy fat people are, please stop reading this post. You are too stupid to grasp any of what I have to say after this.

I’ve spent a lot of years overcoming the sad effects of a society that punishes people for being fat. There are those who think they mean well such as the “you have such a beautiful face” crowd and the well-meaning mother who struggles with her own self-esteem and pushed new diets on me from the age of twelve. There was the time my sister, also a victim of the bias against fat women, told me that I better lose weight before high school because if I wanted to be in the marching band, I was going to have to get changed in front of everyone else in the band. In fourth grade, we had class weigh ins right in front of the whole class and everyone tried to see what mine said. Throughout middle school and high school, other kids oinked or mooed at me on a regular basis. Once, when jogging, a man actually slowed down his pickup truck to yell, “Don’t break the pavement, fatty” as I ran by. I walked home and didn’t run again for many long years. I absorbed every comment, every snide remark, every well-meaning, but still cutting aside.

As an adult, I set about trying to comes to terms with my fat body, even while putting it through the hell of every diet I could find. I ate nothing but grapefruit. I did the cabbage soup diet. Once, I lost sixty pounds and bought clothes in the “normal” stores and still thought I was ridiculously fat. And ugly. I equated fat with ugly back then. I joined a group of women who purported to be about size acceptance but really consisted of a lot of sad women sitting around talking about how much it sucked to be fat.

I had relationships in my twenties, but I attributed that to people who just fell in love with my personality and put up with the fact that I was fat. In essence, I didn’t love myself, so it didn’t occur to me that someone else could love me just as I was. Of course, because of that, I drew people who didn’t love and embrace me the way that I was. It was a self-fulfilling prophecy.

Fast forward to the age of 38 when I, though a positive and loving woman, was not doing well. I was in a long term relationship with someone who did not celebrate me. I was a two pack a day smoker. I was a daydreamer, but not a doer. I had moved to a beautiful Caribbean island and I loved a lot of things about my life there, but I wasn’t treating myself with respect and care.

One day, I decided that had to change. I was tired of hating my body. I was tired of being afraid of what people had to say about me. I was tired about not going to Zumba classes or refusing to go for a swim because of the way certain people looked at me.

It was a slow process. I started by quitting drinking. Then I quit smoking. I started hiking with my soul friend, Aj. We took huge hikes up the sides of gigantic hills that I thought might kill me. I knew it was the best way to keep from going back to smoking. I started meditating. I became a vegetarian. Eventually, I left that dead end relationship and moved back to the states.

And something amazing happened. I grew to love myself. I didn’t just love myself in spite of my fat body. I loved myself AND my fat body. I went to the Michigan Womyn’s Music Festival where I saw women of every shape and size and age and color and ability laughing and loving and dancing and celebrating themselves and me. I fell in love with my own breasts, the weight of them, the way they felt when I lifted them in my hands. I grew to love touching the soft skin of my stomach. I admired the strong and fat curves of my butt. I expressed gratitude for my big thighs that have carried me this far in my wonderful journey. I made love with womyn with the lights on. I refused to be with someone who didn’t love my body the way it was. I set my boundaries and my boundaries involved only being involved with womyn who celebrated and cherished me. And since I’m not a hypocrite, I applied that same rule to myself. I celebrated and cherished myself.

Then something even more amazing happened. I realized I wasn’t just talking about it. I was living it. I celebrated women of all shapes and sizes. I didn’t feel defensive around women with thin bodies or athletic bodies. I didn’t equate skinny with beautiful and I didn’t equate fat with ugly. I started to see through the patriarchal bullshit that insists women be in competition with each other. I started to call out instances of fat shaming, or any kind of shaming of women for their bodies. I stopped watching anything to do with celebrities and I refused to look at fashion magazines and I realized that I have gotten out of the Matrix. That all of those people who think that they have the right to tell women what they should do with their bodies are poisoned in their minds. They’re sick. They are the unhealthy ones. The people who yell “fatty” at a jogger or sneer at a fat person in an exercise class or peer into someone’s cart at the grocery store to see what kind of food they’re buying or purposely go to a page about fat acceptance to leave idiotic comments about fat being gross and unhealthy or lift their eyebrows when they see a woman with hairy legs or write off older women as useless or refuse to see any woman who falls outside of the standard societal expectation of pretty as just that. They are the sick ones. They’re what’s wrong with this society. Those people who feel they somehow have a right to hate someone based on the way they look.They’re hurting our society and they need help.

My journey continued until I was not only loving myself the way I am, but teaching other women how to do the same. Women who have felt too old, too skinny, too muscled, too fat, too wrinkled, too scarred. Women who, like me, have been told that they are not enough the way they are. Women who wore the negative opinions of this sick society.

I learned that I’m beautiful. More importantly, I learned that I am worthy of love and happiness and respect and desire. I learned that I am a woman in every true sense of the word and anyone who can’t understand that isn’t worth my time.

Finally, today was the culmination of all of my self love work. I’ve been telling women of every size and shape that they are beautiful for years. Today when I opened a link to look at the pictures of Leonard Nimoy’s fat nudes and I realized that I thought every single one of them was incredibly fucking beautiful. I felt it down to my very soul. These women were divine and miraculous and beautiful and worthy.I’m not sick anymore. I’m not warped by this sick society. I’ve won. I’m healed. You can be, too.

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Women Learning to Value Themselves

A couple of years ago, I saw a woman at the grocery store who just embodied funky and cool. She was wearing what looked like a homemade crochet skirt and a vest and red cowboy boots. She had such a fun style, I had to stop and tell her that I thought she looked awesome. She looked back at me and said, “Are you making fun of me?”

Fast forward a couple of months…. I was doing a guided meditation with a group of women, most of whom were survivors of rape, sexual assault, abuse. At the end of the meditation, I asked them what came up for them in the meditation and the majority of them said things such as, “I was worried my stomach was growling and everyone could hear it,” or “I’m sure my nose was running and I was sniffing loudly the whole time.”

Fast forward…I was giving a live workshop on creating self love and I asked the women to raise their hands if they believed that if they showed their true selves to their loved ones, those loved ones would no longer want to be with them.

Fast forward… Just last week a woman on FB posted a meme about the electric carts at grocery stores being for the elderly and disabled not for “your fat ass.”

Why are women self-conscious? Why do they devalue themselves? And why do they feel a need to judge and mock other women for their appearances? I think it all stems from the societal idea that we are not enough. We aren’t good enough, smart enough, pretty enough, thin enough. We’re told we need to conform to certain impossible standards of conventional beauty. We’re told that our houses should be clean and our kids should be model citizens and we can get out into the workplace, but not too far into it. We’re taught that girls shouldn’t be loud and that being dirty is wrong. We’re taught that whatever way we are doing it is wrong. We hate it when people judge us, but then we turn around and do it to other women. Think about it. Have you ever said, “She shouldn’t be wearing that outfit at her size?” Have you ever said, “Women shouldn’t wear (X) after fifty?” If so, you’re doing it, too. You’re helping to put women into the prison of not being able to be themselves.

Self-love is an act of rebellion. In this world, a woman who loves and values herself is a radical. The very act of saying, “I won’t allow you to talk to me that way” is an incitement for war in some people’s minds. That’s what I teach. My self love classes and workshops are about teaching women to value themselves so they no longer judge themselves by someone else’s measure. My mission in life is to empower other women so they themselves can go on to empower other women.

Come with me on a journey to lessen anxiety, stop negative self-talk, deal with toxic people, set your own boundaries, and learn to live in joy. bethburnett70@yahoo.com

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Creating Self-Love

You are the creator of your life. Do I need to repeat that? YOU are the creator of your life. I know sometimes you have anxiety. I know you find yourself getting frustrated. I know you might hate your job or argue incessantly with your spouse. I’ve been giving online and live class in self love for several years and the one thing I’ve learned through talking to hundreds of women is that so many of us, in one way or another, think that we aren’t good enough.

My six week online course in creating self-love, increasing self-confidence, and learning to living a life of joy is designed to give women the foundation they need to overcome a lifetime of social conditioning and emerge as strong, empowered women who value themselves and recognize their own self-worth. I help women start to overcome anxiety, panic, doubt, fear, social pressure. These classes include a once a week live class in which I offer participants information and journal exercises and the chance to share their own experiences. The classes do include some homework. Participation in the homework is optional, but the program does have a greater chance of success if the participants give it their all.

Email me at bethburnett70@yahoo.com and I will send a guide to pricing and individual class subjects. The next Monday class is full, but I have space available on Tuesdays, 8 PM EST starting on March 17th.

My live workshops are a modified version of the online class meant to offer women the same foundation in a group setting. I offer workshops in my home or in your home. Email me for details.

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Self Love Classes

My online six week self love classes are a hit. Women are empowering themselves, with my help, to greater self love, confidence, and strength to live on their own terms. I had one woman tell me she quit smoking because of the class. Another told me that she was sure she would never find love again because of her own low sense of self worth. Yet, she was able to open herself up and find a lover who values who beautiful heart. Many women have been able to reduce their problems with daily anxiety or senses of shame. These classes are about recognizing our value and reclaiming our own power.

If you are interested in taking one of these classes please email me at bethburnett70@yahoo.com I am full right now, but will be starting new classes soon.

I also give in person workshops, both in my house, and by request of a group.

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Erotica, my newest venture

So, I’ve started an erotica series. I’m working on the third chapter in the series. The first two are selling pretty well. I’ve been in bit of a writing slump lately… opening my manuscript, staring at it for half an hour, rereading it for an hour, trying to write on it, and coming up with nothing. A friend suggested writing something new which is how I came up with the erotica. I think it just fires different pistons in the same creative engine and gets me moving again. I’m still having trouble coming back to my work in progress, but at least I’m writing again, which means ideas are flowing again. I think writing is a lot like sex. The more sex you have, the more you want. Your brain spends time thinking about the awesome sex you just had and it bombards you with ideas about new and better sex ideas. When I have a great writing session, my brain keeps remembering how great it felt to write and it bombards me with ideas to keep me writing.

I haven’t gotten back to my manuscript yet, but I can feel the rumbles of the ideas starting to fly at me again and I’m getting excited. Writer’s block doesn’t happen to every writer, but it happened to me… and hard. Perhaps stepping out on my manuscript will be just the thing to bring the fire back into our relationship.

Oh. If you want to check out my erotica, here’s a link. Free for Kindle Unlimited readers and only 99 cents for the rest of the world.

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