Writing services and more
Highly rated and wonderfully evocative of the islands.
Thought you guys would like to know that my favorite new editing client has published a wonderful series set in the Caribbean. Yep, my neck of the woods. Set in the fictional island of Sabina, which feels and sounds like a mash-up of all the Caribbean islands I know, with lots of music, food, cool, funny locals and great romance stories. Awesome.
Click on each one for the link.
Well done, Leigh!
Seriously, though. Don’t.
A married man is like a great-fitting pair of pre-stressed jeans: already tested, broken in, and approved. The relative independence of not being tied down to a “real” relationship also has its allure. But there are many good reasons why you shouldn’t succumb to the temptation of an illicit affair. Here are just a few of them.
Feminism isn’t about burning bras or marching in the streets with placards. It’s about respecting and supporting the rights of other women. If you participate in the destruction of something a sister has worked hard to build—such as her marriage and her family—no amount of banner-waving will make you a feminist.
Your dalliance with a married man isn’t a victimless crime. Not only are you hurting another woman, but your selfishness will affect her children as well. And, depending on how deeply affected the kids are by the downfall of the marriage, the hurt just might filter down to their kids. Do you really want a stain like that on your soul?
And any other day he’ll be expected to spend with his family. If the man is determined to hang on to his marriage and his family, you’ll wind up taking a back seat to it every time. Which brings us to . . ..
The mistress is the second banana, and that’s all she’ll ever be. Wouldn’t you rather be with a man who is able to—and wants to—give you all of him, rather than a tiny sliver at a time?
You’re treading water, going nowhere. It’s a dead-end relationship. Shouldn’t you be out there looking for a full-time relationship of your own? Especially if you want to have kids. Don’t mean to be cruel, but . . . tick tock, tick tock . . ..
He’s already proven himself capable of infidelity. He’s shown that he’s willing to put his own selfish desires ahead of the feelings of the woman he once loved. Or even still professes to love. If it comes to pass that he leaves his wife, and you take her place, how long do you think it will be before you are the one lying alone in an empty bed, listening out for the sound of his key in the door?
Sure, sneaking around is naughty, and so is taboo sex. Feels great, right? But one day you’ll wake up and hate yourself. With good reason.
Being the outside woman is just plain tacky. Don’t do it.
Not trying to humblebrag, but I nearly worked myself to death in 2021. Long strings of 7-day work weeks, coupled with managing a home where two teens were stranded and stuck in online schooling hell thanks to COVID. So in that lethargic, otherworldly limbo between Christmas and New Year’s, I decided to take a vacation.
Or, rather, a hiatus, since I went nowhere. And surprisingly, it was harder than I thought. At least at the start.
Day One: Yeah! A whole week off! I deserve this!
Days Two and Three: Do nothing? Seriously? How can I just lie around and not work? If I don’t work, who am I? How do I exist when not at my desk? Am I even ME?
Yep, full-blown existential crisis.
Day Four: I begin marathon-watching two of my old favourites, The Office and Monk. I buy coffee Haagen-Dazs to put in my ice cream. I seriously contemplate bathing all four of my dogs, but I lie down until the feeling passes. I do walk them, though, so stop judging me.
A neighbour intercepts me mid-walk to give me a nicely wrapped box of chocolates, so SCORE!
Days Five and Six: TV marathon in full swing. I have a swim in my neighbour’s pool. We order out so I don’t have to cook. Domino’s cinnastix become my best friend. I take up zentangles again, a hobby I loved but let lapse in the past year. See the one up there? Yeah, that’s mine.
Day Seven: I can’t believe an entire week has passed! Do I really have to go back to my desk?
Yes. Yes I do. I’m awakened at the crack by a yowling cat to rescue a lizard she has stashed under my bed. Great way to start the week.
And here I am. Let’s make it a good year, folkses.