Wednesday, July 18, 2012

Call to action... For Independent artists, self published authors and print on demand publishing companies...

I recently had the unfortunate experience of applying for an emergency grant that has been set up by a well known Canadian organization to support and fund the efforts of Canadian authors in times of need. As any artist knows, the struggle to continue to create positive material during times of emotional and financial distress can be overwhelming and have devastating effects on the results of creative works. With this in mind, both governments and independent agencies have for years provided financial support for the artistic community. Unfortunately, it appears that for many of these organizations the validity of an artist’s work is not based on the merit of the work, nor is it based on the positive social impact that the work may have, rather it is based on the size and the power of the organizations that have in the past supported the artist. Speaking specifically in terms of an author applying for financial assistance there is a bias among those who provide such assistance to not support authors who are independently published or who have been published and supported by print to order publishing houses. Many organizations, including government grants have very clearly stipulated guidelines on their websites that stresses this particular bias. In fact, even some well renowned awards will not accept novels as entries that come from self published authors, or print to order publishing houses.

Sunday, July 8, 2012

Birthday Joy

I recently had the pleasure of getting completely spoiled for my birthday – which of course is an awesome experience for any kid of any age...

Two of the highlights of my day were my radio co-hosts on-line birthday bash and Janet Caldwell’s loving tribute poem...

She came to me in a dream
or so I thought.
She was whispering cures
to me, in my sleep, it seemed.

Tales that she brought to me,
when I was so very ill, telling
me that I need not stay here, still.

While singing songs of meditation
that calmed my weary spirit.
She told me stories of health and wealth,
from an ancient wisdom.

She carefully explained . .
how I had made the decision
to hold onto sickness & selfishness.

She taught me that it was my choice
to be free or keep that dreaded disease.
All . . . propagated by me.

How she did this without judgment,
I’ll never know.

I will tell you that because of her,
many healings have taken place, and I
am ever grateful for her love and grace.

I call her Vikki Jean, the name matters not though.

It’s her angelic light that heals,
recovers and rescues people like me.

Thank you, Jean Victoria, Lovingly,
from me to you, on your special day.

Happy Birthday, Sis!

© Janet Caldwell July 05, 2012

To find more of Janet's work you can visit her at her website JANET P. CALDWELL

For those wishing to listen to what was for me one of the most incredibly fun shows we have ever done – with surprise visits from people like musician Jordan Okrend, on-line TV star Ninon DeVere De Rosa and my own personal favorite and the biggest star in life, my daughter Madison just hit the play button.

Listen to internet radio with Everyday Connection Radio on Blog Talk Radio

Thanks to all of you who posted well wishes on my FB wall and to all of you who showed up to share in the love of a special birthday event...

Jean VN

Tuesday, June 19, 2012

The Good OR The Bad and The Ugly???

The world of media and promotion is strange indeed, it would seem that at times the moral and ethical issues that apply to normal people, living ordinary lives don’t always apply to those we are expected and encouraged to look up to.  The picture that is often painted of the rich, powerful and famous has been for far too long an exaggerated and unfair portrait of perfection.  For the most part however this carefully painted illusion is seen by the masses for what it is; a fake representation of those we choose for a time to place on a pedestal.  Even the artists (musicians, actors etc.) have begun to come forward to speak out against this flagrant disregard for truth.   Our own willingness to blindly accept whatever we are fed is quickly changing as the public gets more diligent is supporting only those things that inspire them rather than discourage.

Friday, June 15, 2012

A Word is Just a Word...

Or is it???

In light of my recent experiences with censorship it has come to my attention that our society really needs to re-think its priorities.  Today I received a note from a friend saying that she had tried unsuccessfully to post review of one of my books on; she was writing to ask if I could figure out why they would not allow the post...

Here is the brief review...

“Fresh, unencumbered truth, naked feeling almost- a new look on relation-shifts in general.....the kind of book that gets you to a place where you want to move forward to deal with your anger, shadow, shit, stuck situations, re-think the life you do not want to live.... whatever you want to call it!! ...a much needed different perspective of things in our vastly changing time frame.”

Ok soooooo???

What’s wrong with that you ask...

Thursday, March 1, 2012

A Short Short Story

“Come step outside yourself and walk a while with me along the shore of non-reality; experience for yourself a life not bound by the limits of must have’s and must do’s. Enter a universe where potentialities are the building blocks of all that is and dance under the vast empty space of a blank page. I caution you however, leave behind your sense of propriety, it has no place in a world that has not yet been created...”, the pen coaxes the hand that at one time embraced it willingly to once again caress it lovingly.
The hand responds with wails of agony over the eternal inner conflict that the pens seductive advances have cause. The battle rages and though the hand wilfully resists the uncontrollable urges that are overwhelming it, in the end it will succumb, suffering defeat to the pen that always wins.
Since the beginning of time, it has always been this way.
I think the true mystery of it all is that it is still a mystery...
I’m not sure how long I was an author before I figured it out, it may have been something I have secretly known for years but was unwilling to admit. Certainly I must have scratched the surface of it on some deep unconscious level those many years ago when I accidently discovered I was a writer; I just never had the courage to dive in and explore the black murky waters of an artisan’s mind. Having your work published makes you an author, but being an author does not make you a writer. In this case it is possible that this dirty little skeleton in the closet of the writers’ world is the kind of thing that only a writer instinctively knows should never be spoken of.

Tuesday, February 21, 2012


She examined the small circular object in her palm, then slowly reached out and gently passed her fingers over her grandmother’s eyes...
The elders would be here soon to take the body away, there was nothing more to be done. All that needed to be said, had been said, as was the tradition of her people; the final stories had been told, the last of the wisdom passed down and the farewell gift had been given. She turned her back on the now empty shell and passed out into the night, strolling towards the nearby water she had frequently visited as a young girl.
She smiled at the idea that another young one would soon be playing there, creating new adventures out of sculpted sand. With her grandmother’s transition, the home that her parents had grown up in, her own home away from home, would now pass to another young family beginning their new life together; she lowered her head and gave silent thanks to the ways of her people, that even in death there was an offer of gifts to the living.

Tuesday, February 14, 2012

Three Years Gone - Not One Second Forgotten...

It’s hard to believe it; it seems like only yesterday and it me leaves feeling a slight tinge of sadness to think it’s been so long.

It’s been three years to the day that my feet first stepped onto that magical land, three years to the day that I breathed that sweet air of freedom. Fitting I think that Valentine’s Day be the anniversary of the day my life changed forever from one of despair to one of love.
Some might call my perception of this seemingly minor event a bit extreme, some might even call it down right nuts but I honestly harbour no romantic delusions regarding either the land I visited or the people in it; I simply have a very open and honest acceptance of my own mind set and state of being before that fateful trip.
When I left Canada I was tired and worn, embittered by the never-ending cycle of death and destruction not only in my own life but in the world around me. I struggled to find hope for a future that in my mind would inevitably swallow up any dreams I myself or my daughter may have for a life filled with joy. I saw corruption and greed, in the government, in my place of employment and even within the confines of my own family. I believed that money ruled the heart, that mankind was headed down a road of self annihilation. With my faith lost in religions that seemed only to want to control and impoverish rather than to lift up and inspire, I could not see the God or The Spirit that people with light in their eyes spoke of. I knew at the core of my being that it was there, but I could not feel the warmth that I believed was mine by right. Without guidance I wandered through my life lost in my own fear.

Monday, February 13, 2012

For My Sister's

For my sisters...

“What now?” she whispered...
“I don’t know”, I answered quietly shaking my head; “we don’t have many options left”.
“Are they really gone?” she asked, a tear trickling from the corner of her eye.
“Yes”, I answered sadly, “they are gone...”
“Maybe they’re just hiding?” her eyes lifted from the ground hopefully.
“No child”, my voice softened, “they made their choice, as we have made ours”.
“Then what now?” she whispered yet again.
“We keep going”, I shrugged my shoulders and got back on my feet.
“But where?” she pleaded desperately, “where is it we will go?”
“We go into tomorrow” I answered.
I got back on my feet and started walking...
And just as every day before and everyday to come, she got up and walked by my side...

Somewhere, out there
I have a family
Somewhere out there
I have a home
Somewhere, out there
I have a future
Somewhere, out there
Is where I wish to roam

In here,
Is where I found her
In here,
No longer alone
In here
Where she protects my heart
In here
Where I protect her own