A New Kind of Down: The Breath & Bones of a Writer (a book review)

I am not normally known for doing book reviews as you all know, but every now and then when I actually find the time to read one from cover to cover without wanting to set it down and walk away, then the time is prime for a review. I ordered Tremaine’s book on Amazon a few weeks ago and have now gone through it not once but twice. I was already familiar with Tre (as she’s known over at her blog which can be found at https://simplesoulsister.com) and her writing, and of course her tales of life with her cute little dog Jernee over at her other blog https://ajerneeofsurprises.wordpress.com and as a fellow dog lover I am often tickled by the antics of her “globe eyed little monster” and have become a dedicated follower of her blogs. This is the first book I’ve purchased by Tre and let me say, I have no regrets what-so-ever. Opening my mailbox to find the brown envelope from Amazon was only the first happy point of receiving it, and upon further inspection as I sat down with my coffee, gazing at the peaceful image on the cover and reading the bio on the back, I couldn’t wait to dive right in. I did not put it down once. This is her third book and not having read the other two (yet) I can’t do a comparason but I know for me, third time’s a charm and trust me, I was charmed.

I can tell that this book was a labor of love and it shows. While reading it, I felt as if I was peering into her heart with each word she wrote, and it often took me back in time to that of my own life, remembering my younger days and the emotion and passion that slipped into each relationship, failed or otherwise that was a lesson in and of itself. The pain spelled out like a story of love held me captivated from beginning to the end, always hoping in my way for the starry happy outcome, I was left cheering her on to bigger, better and amazing things for her future. The poem “Realizing Reality” was exceptional (page 7) and Get High (Get Gone) was a sultry little piece that made me smile. Without a Doubt (page 40) was another piece that flowed splendidly and spoke to my soul, reminding me of me when I was in my youth, the longing of love and the way she writes it out, is almost as if she’s speaking directly to you, reminding you of the feelings of life and love that we all at one time or another have felt. It’s not often that a writer can slip you into their world so effortlessly and taking you along on the journey with them. There were so many pieces here filled with such brutal truth and deep substance that I could go on and on but I leave you to grab your copy and judge for yourself. I wouldn’t want to give away all the goods but this, this is the essence to me. The one sentence from Fool for it all, Including You sums up my favorite phrase: “We are in Amazement. Standing among greats in a tiny space, Searching for gems. I rely on the Sanity of love’s Grasp in the middle of time and space….and here, I always seem to find it.”     In her writing, I found a place, a space where the heart lives and breathes.

Her writing in this book is a compilation of free verse, quatrains, haiku and flash fiction. with each piece so unique and beautifully written from the heart. I can tell time was taken with this book, the flow of it and the rise and fall like the tides of the heart, like a beat or pulse in each piece, bringing it to life with her touch. I honor this book and the soul that wrote it, knowing it will be kept on the special shelf in my blue room which houses the sacred books that touch me. This book was published and available through Lulu and is also available on Amazon (links below) and I believe at Barnes and Noble. I highly recommend Tremaines book and know that if you grab a copy, you too will feel the passion of love and loss stir in your soul…and perhaps like it was for me, a heavy sigh as the last page finished and a feeling of leaving me longing for more, even if just a page or two or ten.



Rating: Five out of five stars

The Portal

She could hear their voices raised from where she sat in the den. Her mother and aunt fighting once more, typical she thought, as she walked over to the shelf next to the window. Her aunt was known for her immense appetite for reading and she had often grabbed a bright colored volume when the adults left her to herself, leafing through the grown up words, slowly mouthing them out, never knowing if she was on the right track or not. Her aunt would sometimes let her take one home to finish, but not the old ones. The old ones were special according to Aunt Lizzie and they stayed right where they were, where they belonged, and were not, under any circumstances to be touched. Emma thought her aunt had eyes in the back of her head because once a year back, she had tried to reach for one of the “ancients” as she called them, only to hear a voice from the kitchen telling her to not even think about it. Emma always did as she was told, but this time, for some reason, a volume up in the top corner caught her eye and she found herself almost being pulled in the direction of it, as if it were overcoming her senses, whispering sweetly, “come my child, pick me up, I’m special” and she hesitated for only a moment, listening for the voice of her aunt to yell and in hearing only the same voices raised in irritation and adult drama, slowly pulled the old dusty book forward to rest in her hands.

The book smelled of mildew and an almost floral scent, which to her seemed a bit strange as old books usually just smelled like something from  your grandparents basement, and she slowly opened it to see if perhaps there was an old pressed flower held somewhere within. The book cover was a bit tattered and the writing was barely present, but it looked on the spine as if it said The Portal. The book felt warm and welcoming in her hands and she glanced up to see if anyone was watching her act of defiance but the hall was empty and she looked back down as she opened the cover slowly. Within covers of the book was an opening. The pages were make-believe and it was like a secret hiding space, with a tunnel. A small glow, like a light down from somewhere within the book corridor began to glow and the book began to get warmer, Emma looked up one last time for her mother or aunt and then she slowly began to fade into a ghostly image, there one minute and gone the next. The book fell with a quiet thump to the floor and footsteps could be heard coming down the hall. The den stood empty and on the antique carpet sat the book that had been in Emma’s hands. Her mother called out for her and the Aunt just stared at the book slack-jawed. Lizzie picked up the book in her hand and opened it up and flipping through pages, watched as a faded rose fell from between the pages. Emma was nowhere to be found and never seen again.

Seventh book, seventh chapter

“I try to experience that feeling of closeness, the feeling that no matter how far away something is, that I can touch it, connect with it. And then I breathe it in.” Chapter: Engaging the flow excerpt from The Celestine Prophecy by James Redfield

I stand there locked in space and time, living in a world of a thousand thoughts that go zipping through my mind,
runaway thoughts like a comet that is chased by its tail across the universe.
I stand there in the middle, weary and oft time overwhelmed by the magnitutde of it all, and sometimes finding it so hard to gather it all together, to put it in some kind of order. But the sky up there, it laughs at me, this poor tiny soul who has forgotten that even so tiny, I am a part of it all. Sometimes I forget. Sometimes I just have to let it go, to be at one with the thousand thoughts, so I build my ship and sail on the rippling energy waves, flowing where the tides take me. I dream in sleep-wakefullness and am pleasantly surprised when the ship runs into ground, jarring me out of this reverie. I am here, in this peaceful state of a bliss awakened.

The seventh book, seventh chapter challenge….go to your book shelf, grab the seventh book in and go to the seventh chapter, close your eyes and pick any point on the page, write that sentence out, and then add your own two cents in. would love to see what you come up with, leave a link in the comments and have fun. please list the book and the chapter name if there is one..and the author to give credit where due of course.
peace and love and fun times,

Her words found

Within the Elephants Trunk I browsed through aisles of donations given by invisible souls, music and clothes and the occasional stacks of dishes, things my grandmother may have once owned, stacked lovingly by hands priced to sell. I came to the back corner where stacks of books lay, separated into categories, not needing anything yet just looking , an old photo on the cover of a paperback drew me in. Her name was Liz, or so the book said and for a dollar and a quarter, I took a quick glance, seeing it was poetry about the thirties, the year, not her age and I walked up to the checkout with my sole purchase. As I began to leave, a steady rain began to fall. Beyond the window of my car I watched as I breathed in the scent…it had been too long since the rain fell here and it was so very welcome. I covered the book to protect it from the rain, patting the cover and not knowing when I’d get a chance to dive in, but happy I had bought it.

Today I began my journey into the pages of this woman’s life, seeing her memories through an woman’s eyes. She had lived in Massachusetts during the depression, and I began losing myself in the beauty of her words, as if she were telling me a story of what it was to be her. Each sentence gave my heart a thrill, for it was words that through simplicity, reached into my soul and the beauty within each page left me turning back and forth, searching deeper for more. I read for about an hour, filled with fear as I waited for the pain of the day I knew was to come, sitting in the waiting room of my dentist, a tooth soon to depart my jaw, and I found myself at such peace, holding this book, as if I were living her life. It was a book that came out in 2000. The poet was seventy five then and I wondered what had happened to this strong and amazing author, was she still alive I wondered and why did I pick that particular book out of the stacks that had now touched me so deeply. 

At the end of her written works, I sat looking at the pictures of her children and grandchildren and I felt as if I knew her, or at least what she allowed to be known. She ultimately ended up by the sea she said, next to the Gulf of Mexico near the palm trees in a city called Venice. It was then that I knew that perhaps, somewhere around here she lives, here in my new home town, and if she were now gone, perhaps her ghost drew me to find her story. How sad it would be, if she became just another soul, who upon passing, had her belongings swept up into tattered cardboard boxes and donated to the Trunk. I then wonder if someday when I’m gone, having no children myself, I wonder what will happen to my books, my poems, will there be a young woman in a thrift store, carrying home My story in her hands, eager for escape and a glimpse into another’s yesterday. I can only hope so, and I pray it is enjoyed and brings solace and peace on a day that isn’t so perfect for someone who was helped in healing by my simple words.

The movement of energy

Words flow through the mind
Movement of energy
Gifts of the universe
Come through to find me
Allowing the beauty to become
The central view
Of the emptied head
Cleansed to make room
For more.
His words filter to the soul
Bubbles of light frozen
Taken away to ponder
To immerse the thoughts into wonder
Of the wisdom found within
And I am left with a smile
At the way things here become reality
Or the essence of all we choose to see.
Ribbons tied neatly
In golden glitter against the earth,
Life glistens with the energy
Of a solitary soul
Who selflessly gives
Bringing a mood to the surface
Of gratitude and joy
And a prayer of thanks
To this amazing place we call home
Where life moves round to find
A resting place of peace.

Thoughts on a letter I received this morning and thoughts of yesterday when I found a gold bow beside the house that lay in the grass. It made me smile and I thought to myself, gifts from the universe….just because. I have no idea where or how that ribbon got there but after finding that, encountered a small feather and I thought then, thoughts have wings to move energy to make amazing things happen and this day has just blossomed into a light and happy moment in my life. Thank you Michael from embracing forever. If you have never been to his site, filled with beauty and wonder and an energy that just flows from words, please stop in and check out his site and congratulate him on his released book of prose poetry. You will be inspired, I promise.


Amazing photo found at : http://www.demilked.com/frozen-in-a-bubble-angela-kelly/. By artist Angela Kelly