I Just Wanna Know…

Self-Published Authors; are you open to consignment, or is it strictly cash up front? I want my books in as many stores and locations as possible – BUT – people sure can act a fool when they get your book in their hands. Do they own your work? Do they control your destiny? Do they have a right to give you your chedda when they feel like it? And what is up with the 50-50 split? 60-40? 80-20? 100-0?

Everybody Needs A Little Luv but dayum! When does business turn into greed that makes you to hungy to starve?

I Just Wanna Know
http://www.wandadhudson.com

Personally Yours – Author Nanette Buchanan

Personally Yours will give you a brief look inside your favorite authors world. We know they write smokin’ books, but do they smoke with the Surgeon General and if they do, what? Are they left-handed or right handed? Take a personal look inside Author Nanette Buchanan’s life. Enjoy Personally Yours!

1. Who is Nanette Buchanan? I am a Christian, a wife, mother, grandmother, Senior Corrections Officer, an author and child advocate. I currently reside in New Jersey. I am an Instructor at the New Jersey Department of Corrections Training Academy. As an author, I published my first novel in 2007 and today I now have three published fictional novels and an e-book of poetry. I am the hostess of ASA Blog (Authors Supporting Authors) Talk Radio and the co-host of Angel Wings Publication Blog Talk Radio. A show which advocates for Domestic Violence victims.

2. What are you passionate about? My writing has been an important part of my life. I began while attending Rutgers University in New Jersey, and never imagined that it would be more to me than simply putting a pen to pad. I pen because it has soothed me, been a force to vent, rejoice and assist in many aspects in my life. I pen for enjoyment and as an inspiration to others. I pen because I realize it is more than just a hobby and it consumes me even when I am not actively writing. I pen because I love it.

3. Why should the world take notice of you? I would love for the world to take notice of me, but I feel I would better serve the world or people through my words. Being an instructor, author and hostess on the Blog Radio shows has given me a route to make a change, express the need for positive solutions, and share new ideas and information.

4. In one year where will you be? LOL….still working full time. I have a few years left before retiring. I will be a Sergeant within the next year, however I will be looking to make the rank of Lieutenant before retiring. I also want my publishing company to be working diligently for myself and other authors who wish to publish their work through I Pen Books.

5.What are your life rules? Live each day fulfilling a dream. Being optimistic doesn’t mean ignoring what is negative….understand it is the negative that becomes obstacles and will delay progress. Be healthy mentally, physically and emotionally. You can’t progress when stressed, take the time to take care of yourself.

6. What is your $1 and a dream? Reaching a peaceful plateau. There is nothing more rewarding than peace of mind. It soothes the soul, enriches the spirit and controls the heart. For my dollar, I want peace of mind.

7. 5 Favs –
a. color -Green, meaning life and of course money

b. food -I love my husband’s cooking. Any food well prepared has my vote. I am a lover of most seafood dishes.

c. movie -Wow….there are so many. “Usual Suspects”….I love a good mystery…..and “The Color Purple” but my list is unlimited.

d. song -Wow…again I’m stumped “Zoom”- Lionel Richie and the Comodores…….”What You won’t do for Love” – Bobby Coburn “Crazy Love- LutherVandross……I could go on….

e. drink – Gingerale…..don’t really have a preferred mixed drink…..Wine maybe Zifandel

8. Do you forgive regardless of what someone has done to you? Not always easy to do…..I’m still working on that.

9. If you could change your past would you? Yes, there’s always something I reflect on that could have been done better, now that I know better. I would have started publishing my work earlier in my life. I definitely wouldn’t have let others influence me to hesitate or doubt some of the decisions wanted to make.

10. Random thought – If I could have done things differently what other obstacles would I have met? Our dreams eventually becomes a reality. You start building your world on your dreams.

11. Where can we find you on the net? I have a My Space and Face Book site, and various ning sites also www.ipendesignsblogspot.com and www.ipendesigns.net

12. Fill in the blank with one word – To know Nanette Buchanan is to understand Nanette Buchanan.

New Book Cover – A Sheltered Life

This is the newest addition to Miss Luv’s Books! Meet A Sheltered Life!
Thank you Candace Cottrell for putting that Candy Cane STANK Awwww, Baby Stuff on it!

Miss Luv’s Books – Because Everybody Needs A Little Luv!
http://www.wandadhudson.com

REVIEW – LuvMe – 05/18/10

LuvMe - Because Everybody Needs A Little Luv

“Luv Me.” by Wanda D. Hudson, sucked me in with her sensual opening piece entitled “Dear Diary” and set the momentum for the rest of this sexy read!
A collection of sensual short stories that you could read during your lunch break or after one of those “Calgon take me away baths”

Ms. Hudson provides the stage for her readers to live vicariously through her character’s lives and erotic fantasies.

A different tasty treat as you encounter each story as no two are alike. Ms Hudson dispensed humor along with lust and originality with each scenario.

You’re bound to find one that will be a favorite. ”DSL”, Room with a View” and “She” are the three that stood out for me.

Lust, entertainment and passion are what you’ll get between these pages…are you ready?

A recommended read.

Locksie Locks
May 18, 2010

ARC Book Club Inc.
Star Rating 5.0*****

Awwww, baby! Go ahead and get you a little luv; LuvMe – Because Everybody Needs A Little Luv $5 http://www.wandadhudson.com

EXCERPT – A Sheltered Life

A stressful sleep held me as we rode for a few hours. It released me when the truck came to a rushed halt. I rolled into one of the rusted sides and the jagged edges cut my skin. Small bubbles of blood began to form while I watched, waited, and hoped that I would bleed to death.

The man slammed the door and yelled, “I gos’ta relieve ma’self. You kin go round there to that tree if ya gos’ta piss. I won’t be long.”

A few minutes passed before I moved. My body was stiff and I realized that during my sleep I had urinated on myself. The back of my dress and my panties were damp. My vagina was rotten with the smell of slow death, but he would want me again. I sat up and stretched, and peered over the side of the truck looking for a water source. The sound of loud voices startled me and I crouched down again as not to be seen. Next, a sound that could be compared to thieving horse hooves trying to catch up came towards the truck. The disorder grew louder as they got closer.

“I ain’t stole nuthin’ from yo ‘stablishment! Fuck yah’ll!”

I heard the man’s heavy breathing as he ran to get back into his truck. I never noticed the sound of the keys before, but this time they jangled loudly as he fumbled to thrust them into the ignition. Godly fear forces you to pay attention to your surroundings.

The engine rumbled as his foot slammed down on the gas pedal. I fell back hard against the side of the truck and covered myself from the rocks and dirt the tires threw up as it sped off. My body was under attack again and all I could do was the minimal to protect it. A moonshine jug tried to force its contents into my brain by knocking me in my head as I struggled to keep my balance. Our getaway vehicle rode hard, swerving all over the road trying to escape. Running without reason is a reason to question your choice. The choice that I had made was today was the day that I would die; why I made that choice was the question that I could never answer. The sound of a shotgun made me realize my domino effect was in full throttle.

“Shoot his niggar ass! Hurray up…he’ll git away!”

The man cursed his hunters and I cursed the day I was born. Then I heard three more shotgun blasts. I balled my body up and began to cry.The truck’s engine let out a sound of anguish as it tried to travel at a racetrack pace. The shell from the shotgun crossed the finish line before the truck did. As my body was thrown and rolled over and over, I saw the casing enter through the small back window of the truck. It hit my chauffer, which caused him to drive into a direction that was worse than the unpaved road. I felt my body rise from the unsecured base of the back as we went up in the air. This happened after we hit a mound larger than the truck could handle.

The truck began to turn on its side and I began falling out. My hands reached desperately for the ragged edges and the blood bubbles opened up. There was no need for me to try and hold on – death was going to catch me.

On the first air flip I fell out. I slammed to the ground and rolled and bounced revolutions of pain. When I stopped blood welcomed me along with a muted throb throughout my body. My head lay to one side and through the clouded dirt I saw the truck continue to tumble over twice more and land on the roof. The wheels were spinning faster than they ever would if they were on the ground. I turned my head to face the heavens. The sun parched my half living frame and I thought that death didn’t do a good job of catching me. Then I thought who remembers how they died if they are dead.

Aww, baby! Have you read Wait for Love: A Black Girl’s Story or LuvMe yet? What are you waiting on? Get your hot chocolate today 🙂 Miss Luv’s Books – Because Everybody Needs A Little Luv
http://www.wandadhudson.com

A-Stigma-Tism

A few weeks ago I had an eye doctor appointment. I received wonderful news in that I can actually see better then the computer measured results. The doctor stated that based on his printout I should not be able to read the eye chart as well as I did. It’s a miracle! Well, maybe not, but I walked out of the office with a normal pair of glasses versus the oh, so, un-sexy coke-bottle aww, dayum frames.

The American Optometic Association defines Astigmatism as a vision condition that causes blurred vision due either to the irregular shape of the cornea, the clear front cover of the eye, or sometimes the curvature of the lens inside the eye. An irregular shaped cornea or lens prevents light from focusing properly on the retina, the light sensitive surface at the back of the eye. As a result, vision becomes blurred at any distance. One week after my appointment I realized that I did have a-stigma-tism, but eye glasses were not what I needed to correct the condition.

I was driving and looking for a building address. Why do buildings go from number 26 to number 82? Just ridiculous! Although I was in the vicinity, I became frustrated when there was no place to park, so I could get out and ask for directions. Didn’t the world know that I was in desperate search of building number 47? I’m going to call my State Senator and complain; that’s if he isn’t to busy getting his freak on from a call that he made…to forgive is divine.

Well, I pulled up to the entrance of a parking garage and proceeded to take the directions out and explain them to the attendant. While I was halfway through my sentence I asked the attendant did he speak English. Rude, WandaLuv, just rude! Frustration makes you say some stupid shit, but degrading someone is simply ignorant. My entire tone with the foreigner was uncalled for. My assumption = a-stigma-tism in my mind.

See, I grouped the attendant with “his kind.” Can speak limited English and only knew how to direct cars up and down the ramp of the parking garage. Everybody has a story to tell; maybe I will read about his in the news one day. He may become the inventor of a device that pinpoints your exact location with picture detail, tells you where to park your car, and when to shut your mouth before you say something rude.

I did use the garage to park my car and when I retrieved it I made sure that I thanked him for directing me, and apologized for giving him a hard time. He smiled, said thank you, and probably muttered I get your kind all the time.

The word stigma means the mark of disgrace or discredit. Do you group people together as a whole, or do you see them as an individual? If you’ve seen one have you seen them all, or have you ever really noticed that one exists?

I kind of thought it was me, but realized it wasn’t after attending my daughter’s school last week for an after school program. My daughter’s first grade teacher sometimes talks to me with a hint of doubt in her voice. As if she’s telling me to do this for my child, but none of the parents ever do, so she knew that I wouldn’t either. It’s like she’s brushing me off; like I’m the same as each parent that sends their child to school unprepared. Maybe she does it and doesn’t know. Is that ignorance or adapted behavior? Hmmm…
At the school I had a chance to see a small percentage of the students and some of the parents. Was it my a-stigma-tism or were the parents classed as those kinds of people?

While deciding to write this post I thought about times that I have had a-stigma-tism. Once when riding the train in New York City my CD batteries went dead. My eyes scanned the car looking for an Asian person that my have batteries to sell. There was one woman seated a few feet away. I actually thought about going to ask her for batteries. Hey, I wanted the remainder of my ride to be musically filled. Rude, but a-stigma-tism clouds not only your vision, but your mind.

Is it a natural reaction to group races together? Is it a learned behavior? Can you get to know an individual without attaching the history of their nationality to them? Can we talk to someone of a different race about who we are without bringing up our history?

Astigmatism of the eye can be corrected. A-Stigma-Tism of the mind? Hmmm…

I luv yah’ll

A Procession of One

The word bitch should be used solely in conjunction with the word grief. I promise you, if I ever hear another man call a woman a bitch, I don’t care who he is, I’m going to hurt him. If I ever hear another woman call a man a bitch, I’ll release a few choice words that will touch her core, but she’ll be able to continue. Neither a man nor a woman can make you feel as sickening as grief can. I don’t care what they do to you – cheat, lie, steal or slam you to the ground and run. Grief is the only bitch I know.

Grief intruded into my life June 4th 2008 at 4:20pm. That’s when I received a call from my father’s wife informing me that my daddy, Bobby James Hudson, was gone. She said it as calmly as she could. “Niecy, we lost Bobby today.” That’s when my procession of one began.

I proceeded to cry. I proceeded to yield to the shit feeling that was ravaging my body, because I couldn’t fight back. I proceeded to collapse and let myself be gutted by grief. Grief cuts your insides and churns them at the same time, runs them over, burns them, and leaves them there expecting you to function as if oh well should be the next words you say.

The first steps of my procession were to see my daddy lying in his coffin. Simply visiting my daddy became viewing his body. I was at a wake that would never allow for sleep. This wake wanted tears and I obliged…boy did I oblige.

My procession kept going strong with then next day being more forceful than the first. The funeral told me to say goodbye. I only did so after God told me to hold onto His hand. He said that I will see my daddy later.

Next, the cemetery. Grief began to slither around my throat. It’s hold grew tighter and tighter but I still saw the coffin which held my daddy – even with my shades on and my eyes closed.

I know we all go through this but it doesn’t diminish the fact that my daddy broke my heart. I know he didn’t mean to. I know he loved his babygirl. When I was younger my father told me that he wouldn’t always be here. His words – “Babygirl, ya daddy ain’t always gone be here.” My words – “Well, where are you going to be?” Together we’d laugh. Lawd, I miss my daddy.

A father’s love for his daughter is priceless. Fellas, you all can step up your game and you still won’t measure up. My daddy made me feel SO special. His encouraging words to keep on babygirl, stick with it, success doesn’t come overnight. Man, this hurts.

I wanted my father to see me make it. To him, I already did. He saw something different in me. He saw that I stepped out on faith and did what my passion told me to. I know that he was proud of me.

Bobby James Hudson was the first black man to work at the TAM Plant in Niagara Falls NY. 1968 didn’t have a civil rights march for him – he was just being a provider for his family. Tuskegee Institute and Niagara Community College taught my daddy a few things. He took that knowledge and eventually opened his own store, Hudson Tile and Carpet in Ocala Florida. But that was after he showed others how it should be done at the Color Tile store in Niagara Falls NY.

My daddy and his ideas! I smile just thinking about them. Shaklee, Amway, Omaha Steaks and BARD (Bobby, Alice, Ronny, Denise) Security. His favorite food – fried chicken. Once my daddy told me that he could eat fried chicken every day! Why? “‘Cause I was raised on it babygirl.” Oh… I miss my daddy.

He taught my brother to keep a handkerchief in his pocket. My brother now has taught that to his sons. Something so simple. but something to be proud of still. He taught me to be me, and ain’t nuthin’ wrong with that 🙂

Golf, golf, golf. Why did I say that golf was a dumb game…that all you do is walk around hitting a ball. Lawd, did I get a LECTURE on golf! I was a teenager. I’m 42 now and I have NEVER said a bad word about the game of golf since!

I’ll hurt, I’ll cry and still talk too much about my daddy. My procession will continue with me working it out and being the woman that Bobby James Hudson knew I could be.

I love you daddy.

Wanda D. Hudson
Wait for Love: A Black Girl’s Story
LuvMe
http://www.wandadhudson.com

I Must Be Ready

The following are thoughts that I had a few months ago, which would translate to last year. The New Year has me exuberant will all of the possibilities, that I once again have been given. The thought of a new presidential candidate, who is a few shades lighter than I, but still considered my African American brother has my heart beating with fresh blood not dervied from an outside source. Ahhh, life.

Are we ready for life? The uncertainties? The happiness? The disappointments? It’s hard to get ready for something that you don’t know the beginning to, and can only make assumptions about the end. The following words came from the incident with the women’s basketball team. With all that is going on in the world we still have to come prepared- bring the game face and do it to death.  

As a child I was told that sticks and stones may break my bones, but words would never hurt me. As an adult I know that this kiddie rhythm is wrong. Sticks and stones will kill you, and words will bury you six feet plus while you’re still breathing. It usually takes an action in order to get a reaction. Why do we always have to react? Is it any one person’s fault that we have to come to the rescue of each other when we are separated from one another? Our lives should already be at a point and a pace that is beyond comfortable with no hurtful words, sticks, or stones in view. The lyrics say a change gone come. The change came, but we either didn’t see it, or simply didn’t know how to keep it revolving in the right direction. One action makes us remember what we should think about on more than an anniversary. One action of distaste is all it takes to cause a debate of what should be done to keep our change from diminishing to less than what it takes to place a ten cent call. Wait, the cost of a call hasn’t been ten cents in years? Where do we really stand? How much change do we have left? Words. Bullets. Rape. Murder. Death. These cause us to remember.

Slaves
look
Slaves
at
Slaves
all
Strange Fruit
the
Malcolm X
african
Addie Mae Collins
niggar
Martin Luther King
colored
Carole Roberston
black
Johnnie Robinson
people
Strange Fruit
who
Medgar Evers
have
Denise McNair
died
Sean Bell
for
Cynthia Wesley
a
James Byrd Jr.
change
Strange Fruit
that
Unidentified Body (bodies)
is
James Chaney
within
Emmet Till
us

We argue over our history. We argue over our titles. This is an argument that will never be won. Other races belittle us and say it’s okay because we belittle ourselves. We get angry and try to decide to whom the blame will fall on. Every opinion is right. Each view differs. The fight continues because of this. There are only a few things that I know and I believe are certain. I know I love my family. I know that our titles, our words, have taken on a entity of their own. They are used by many, but the reason for the easy disposal by others has yet to be explained.Jesus is coming. I believe this is certain. I Mus Be Ready. 

I luv you.

Can one man bring a change that will save ourselves from us?  To vote is the answer – the question…I Mus Be Ready.

Keep it SEXY

Everybody Needs A Little Luv – get some of your’s Wanda’s Way