The countdown to my debut novel, Even Tough Women Crack Like Eggs Sometimes, has officially started. I am over the moon with excitement. I have wanted to be a writer since I was a little girl. My dream has always been to tell stories to inspire readers, to touch their lives, to nest in their hearts, and to nourish their insides.
Next month I will cross the bridge from a writer who scribes a sundry of subjects ranging from editorial issues, celebrity interviews, reviews, book blurbs, screenplays, lyrics, motivational quotes, inspirational quotes to that of published author. Yes, cookie cakes, I will join the ranks of the magical writers who have inspired me, who inspire me and who will inspire me. I will stand side by side with an array of remarkable writers who have mentored me from the moment I wanted to cross over from the realm of journalist to the sphere of being a published author. I am truly humbled to be in such esteemed company.
The buttercream icing on the cake is to have my own publishing company. I wanted my own publishing company since I was about eleven. It was when my grandfather hauled in a humongous desk for me to do my schoolwork on. Schoolwork? Aahhh, not so much – if any. Cookie cakes, I wrote stories for my dolls, pets and cousin Christine. I put together magazine issues, newspapers and even penned scripts for the reporters who worked for my news channel. I won’t even tell ya about the soaps, shows and movies I wrote. I wanted to be one of the chosen few to create fire with my words ever since my grandma taught me to read. I will always be grateful to my grandma for introducing me to the world of books amidst the chaos of my childhood. She was a tough woman.
To celebrate the countdown to the publication of Even Tough Women Crack Like Eggs Sometimes, I will be sharing weekly teasers with you.
Visit The Official Even Tough Women Crack Like Eggs Sometimes website for extra goodies.
And stay tuned for details on exclusive content, bookish treats, sneak peeks, and swag, YESSS, HONEY!!!
Drum roll…. Yes!
Bumblebees swirling inside of me…Oy!
What is going on, Morasco, ya want to know, huh? Well, I am going to tell ya. Ready? It is official, cookie cakes, it really is. This morning at to-early-to-read-the-email A.M. I received a message from Goodreads. I scanned the subject line. I stared at it, grinned, and went back to sleep making a mental note to read it when I was ready to absorb it all. I just read it. Do ya want to know what the subject line said?
Welcome to the Goodreads Authors program! YESSS, HONEY!!!
And, cookie cakes, when I opened it there in bold letters were the words –
Hey, you’re a Goodreads Author now! YESSS, HONEY!!!
Officially, as of today, I am a Goodreads Author! Ready? Here we go – YESSS, HONEY!!! Hahaha!!!
I am sooo excited! I will be brainstorming this weekend on what bonuses I will be including with my debut novel, what exclusives will go to the various retailers and setting up my Goodreads Author Page – in between working on Even Tough Women Crack Like Eggs Sometimes for its November release.
I will diligently be working with the designing genius at TRT Studios™ to decide on a cover that makes me as thrilled as the cover for my Old Sea Harbor Series Novella, Spirits Unleashed.
Also, I will be finally working behind the scenes on The Diane Morasco Radio Show; it has been pushed back for way too long and this cookie cake is ready – I think. Gulp!
And lastly, I am considering a YouTube channel for 2017. Where did this coconut notion come from all of a sudden? The awesome Kristen Martin.
So, there ya have the scoop on All Things Morasco. I am wishing you and yours a creative, fun, healthy, and relaxing weekend.
Embrace your moments!
Today I did something I haven’t done since writing my debut novel, Even Tough Women Crack Like Eggs Sometimes. I listened to the needs of DIANE. I not only listened to what Diane wanted. I actually followed through by RESPECTING those needs. There has been so much dust kicking up as I excavate the wreckage of my past in the pages of this manuscript. In fact, a few TOUGH women have mentioned for me to take it easy because of what I have written – and because of what is coming up.
As I reach “The End” of TOUGH, so many emotions I tamped down have decided to take a stand and say NO MORE – FEEL THEM! Really FEEL them and not in the way I perfected growing up on Long Island surrounded by the vultures who share my DNA. Not in the way DIANE MORASCO has perfected a Swiss cheese version of feeling them either. But in a way that the little girl born at Jacobi Hospital on Pelham Pkwy in the Bronx with the curly hair, dimples and caramel skin needed. The precious little girl who arrived in this world a result of rape, the innocent angel God not only saved, but beautifully designed, despite the heinous machinations of her maternal parent’s DNA.
I was waffling about attending a morning appointment or staying in to nurture myself. Which was/is foreign territory. The perfectionist I am was going to keep the appointment despite what I needed. I figured I could just do what I always do and place my needs to the side and “do the right thing” as usual; until I realized I would be contributing to the abuse I endured by not listening to what I was feeling. I debated for over thirty minutes. I finally said to myself, “Diane, if you aren’t going to protect little Diane who the heck is?” I told myself I would make a decision when the snooze alarms on my iPad and Galaxy S7 went off. They went off within seconds. Imagine that? There are NO coincidences. None. Nada. I called to cancel and still debated with myself as I was connected to the woman’s voicemail. I was telling myself it would only be a few hours…blah…blah…blah. I left the message. After I disconnected from the line, I cried. I cried because I have been conditioned to keep on going despite honoring my needs. I have been conditioned to “act as if” no matter what it cost. And, I have been conditioned to “never let anyone see your weakness” – NOT EVER! Who conditioned me to behave in such a manner? I did. It was a way for little Diane to protect herself from the chaos of her environment. It was what got us through. It served its purpose then. It no longer serves us in any way that is healthy, loving or nurturing.
Today, for the first time I listened to our needs. I cried myself to sleep. I released so many emotions without fear of scrutiny. When I woke up to absorb it all, I ended up succumbing to more tears. However, these were now tears of grief for that innocent little girl who was tortured by frightened adults who had no damn business raising any children – NONE – when they had yet to address their own messed up stuff.
What was it that caused these buried feelings to erupt today? Writing the Even Tough Women Crack Like Eggs Sometimes Excerpt: Our DNA, the last few chapters of TOUGH, addressing my childhood without a filtered lens, dealing with my abuse, shinning a spotlight on my body image issues that stemmed from my sexual abuse, reading June Stevens Westerfield’s powerful book, This is My Body, writing The Vicious Cycle of Eating Disorders and Body-Shaming, Part 2 and Even Tough Women Crack Like Eggs Sometimes Excerpt: When Words Slaughter a Soul! last night; and knowing the final chapters of TOUGH will bring me to my knees – so I can rise from the ashes and grow into the woman I was sculpted to be.
I want to express my gratitude to the TOUGH women who have inspired me along the way, Doreena, Louisa Winters, Parris Afton Bonds, Tanya R. Taylor, Diana Layne, Cinda, Sibel Hodge, June Stevens Westerfield, and all of the courageous women who shared their experience, strength and hope within the pages of This is My Body.
With all my heart, I want to thank Frederick Joseph Paris, my Prince, for standing by me when I disclosed the incest. And, my hero for setting all of this is in motion.
Welcome to September, cookie cakes…soon to be pumpkin cookie cakes!
P.S. Here is the link to The Vicious Cycle of Eating Disorders and Body-Shaming, Part 1 in case ya missed it.
“I remember pieces of my splintered heart, digging deeper into the soul he ruptured, to begin slaughtering it. My hero, my precious hero.”
“Fat bitch!” Those were the first devastating words to my soul my hero hurled at me about my body. The words I never wanted to hear described to me by the man I loved more than anything in the world. The man who claimed to love me more than his own life. The man who got down on bended knee with hardware placed inside of him by a team of surgeons in a Texas hospital, after he crashed the vehicle he robbed in a booze and drug filled stupor to ask me to marry him. And, I said yes; yes, to the only man I ever wanted to take that stroll with. I remember pieces of my splintered heart, digging deeper into the soul he ruptured, to begin slaughtering it.
Recently I shared how my eating disorder and self-hatred for my body began in an article for Blogcritics, The Vicious Cycle of Eating Disorders and Body-Shaming, Part 1. Here is an excerpt of my article.
I was nine years old when my eating disorder started. It started in January in Bay Shore, New York. It was the day my uncle, a Westchester County Police Officer put his hands and mouth on me. I was in the kitchen making Campbell’s Vegetable Soup to have with my cheese and salami sandwich. It was the last time there was ever a “normal relationship” between me and eating. I remember when he was done I ran into the bathroom, locked the door, grabbed a towel from the closet and puked. I was in too much shock to cry.
Copyright © 2016 by Diane Morasco
Announcing The Official Even Tough Women Crack Like Eggs Sometimes website for my novel, Even Tough Women Crack Like Eggs Sometimes.
I hope you find clarity, compassion, sustenance, and understanding as you voyage through the TOUGH website.
My mission is to heal, empower and rip the damn shutters off the windows we house our secrets in, so we can let the sun pour its powerful light on the darkness. Once we start soaking up the light, we can absorb the nourishment and heal.
Always remember, you are a beautiful treasure!