Dripping With My Blood

"His stout physique frightened me. He kept his head low so as not to be seen staring at me by Mrs. Natalie. His eyes pierced through me like daggers. Squinting, he narrowed his eyes as he took in my splotchy face and overflowing tears; then without warning he released a vicious smile revealing his nature. His teeth could have easily been sharpened to razor-sharp points and dripping with my blood. It was his mouth that had unleashed the death blow. His words had sharpened his teeth into fangs worse than any vampire ever thought of having." (excerpt; page 51 of Plain Jane by Schledia Benefield)

Tomorrow morning I'm going to be speaking to a group of women who are living in a Transitional Shelter. These are women who for one reason or another have ended up needing someone to help them get back on their feet. I'm far from perfect, and I don't have it all put together. I wish I did, but I get up every morning and I take more steps in the right direction. I can't stand in front of these women and say, "Hey, look at me. Be like me. I know everything, and I never battle the battles you face on a daily basis." No, I can't say anything of the sort. What I can say is this. "I was once a young woman who had been beaten down and thought very little of herself, much like many of you. I never lived in a place like this, but I've been down some rough roads, and I know all too well the pain we've all endured from the power of words!"

You see, much like my character in the book Plain Jane, most of us have dealt with someone speaking words to us that belittles us and makes us feel unworthy of respect and love, and when you feel that way, you often end up doing things and making decisions that keep those wounds open and bleeding, until you get to the point that you've bled out all there is to bleed. At that point you feel that you're nothing more than a walking corpse. Lifeless. It's all gone. The soul within you has died. 

People use their words everyday to sharpen their teeth into fangs, and then they do what every vampire does, they go for the jugular and suck the life from those around them. Words are powerful, but just like words can be used to tear you and others down, they can be used to build others up! Choose this day to speak kind words to those you come in contact with. You never know what it might do to lift their spirit. 

Blessings,

Schledia

Purpose

I decided to go back through all the posts I've made in my blog and see what gets read the most. It seems those posts dealing with depression get more attention than the rest of the stuff I write on here, and I think there's a reason for that. 
I'm a writer. It's who I am. I've known it most of my life, but I didn't realize what I knew about myself...if that makes any sense to anyone out there! As a child I lived in a fantasy world inside my head, creating stories. I even shared ideas with my cousin, and we talked about writing books when we grew up about the ideas we bounced off one another. I knew I was a storyteller; I just didn't realize that meant I was born to be a writer. 
I was also sad, even as a child. It's not that I didn't have moments of happiness. I didn't know it was depression that I felt. I just remember always feeling alone and invisible. I still struggle with feeling alone and invisible. I was the invisible girl. I truly was...at least in my own mind. 
At the age of fifteen some things happened in my life that catapulted me into a state of deep depression. I thought I was handling the circumstances okay, but I wasn't. Things didn't get better; they got worse. I began a downward spiral, sinking into a dark abyss. I was so deep within the waters, the light had been snuffed out. It could not penetrate. That was my life for many years. 
I was sharing not too long ago about how I've battled depression for most of my life, and then it hit me. That was a falsehood. I didn't battle it at all during those years. I had given in to the weight of it all and allowed it to consume me. 
NOW...I fight it! I fight it with those things I've learned give me the strength to fight it. It took Light that was strong enough to penetrate the darkness I was drowning in for me to begin swimming for the surface. I learned that it IS okay to take medication if you need it. No one would tell a diabetic in need of insulin not to take their pill or shot, now would they?! I learned that when I take care of my body through eating properly and exercising, I have strength to fight, and I feel so much better. 
It was during the time I was finally overcoming that I wrote my first published work, Plain Jane, the story of a young girl who sees herself as invisible. As her life plummets into the depths of depression, her heart is shattered, and her soul sinks into the darkness. 
I've always heard people say: "Write what you know." How true that is, and that right there is why I believe that my posts dealing with depression are read more than anything else. I created this page because of being an author...because that's what you're supposed to do as an author. I think I just realized it has a greater purpose. I'm not saying I won't post other things, but from now on my purpose with this page is to be a writer who writes about what she knows, and she knows depression.

Monday Madness...Poetry

“Holy Hush”

Those who feel they cannot speak,

Are bound by chains meant to keep them weak.

Boundaries and walls to fence them in,

A muzzle set in place to hold back the cries

So that no one around sees where the darkness hides.

The heaviness of the chains breaks them down

The seas rise around them; in the depths they will drown.

The deeper they sink, the darker their world.

Weariness sets in as the weight of the waters crush—

Shutting off all breath, leaving their only hope a Holy hush.

                                                                            Schledia Benefield

A New Adventure in Writing

Hi,

I know it's been a while since I've written anything on here. I made a schedule that I hope to implement soon. It would have me making at least three weekly posts. I just have to do some prep work before I start in on it. 

In the mean time, I have some great news! My latest fiction work to be published, Wildflowers, is in the process of being converted into a script for an Independent Film Company. I will be certain to fill everyone in on all the details as it progresses. I'm excited about this opportunity.

This endeavor will keep me busy throughout the summer, which is why I must do the prep work in order to keep a tight schedule, so off I go now to work on the script! 

Schledia

Mama's Boys graduate showdown

My friend Lisa and I both had boys graduate this year. We planned a little party to celebrate, but we wanted to do a little something to embarrass them! lol They both took Theatre in school and loved it. My son wants to be an actor. We figured throwing together a little skit was just what we needed! Enjoy!

Celebrating Five Years as a Published Author

Can I be real for a minute? Hmmm...that sounds weird. I try to be real all the time, but I suppose I'm asking if I can be real about a particular thing. Today, February 10, I am celebrating five years of being a published author. I was told in the beginning of my writing career that it takes about five years of a book being out before you really get your name out there. Truth is I've never had much of an interest in "getting my name out there!" What do I mean by that? Well, I want to help people and touch their lives through the stories I write. The stories are where I want the focus to be centered—not on me, the author of them.

I suppose there are writers who are driven by fame, but I think in general most writers simply love telling stories. My desire is to have the memories of the stories I write embedded in the hearts of those who read them. That’s what I want to last.

Well, it is five years later now, and things have started taking off in a small way. Plain Jane, my first published work, is listed on a college professor’s reading list for her class. I had no part in that. She simply came across the book and put it on her reading list for her class. It is also being read in a literature class in a small private school. While I know the person over the school, I did not promote the book to her. I simply shared as she asked questions about it, and that brings me to the other point I wanted to be “real” about…promoting my writing.

I'm not much of a promoter, and if I'm going to be real honest with you, I don't expect that to change. It's just not in who I am. I'm constantly told in the writing world that I need to get out there and promote my books, but I just can't seem to make myself do it. I enjoy getting on my Facebook author page and telling everyone what I'm presently working on; I was thrilled to have those who like my page help me pick out my new cover for Plain Jane, and I always inform people via social media when a new book is being published, but I just can't seem to push myself out there and say, "Hey, read my books; they're awesome! You'll love them!" I've always felt that the book would speak for itself. 

You’re probably wondering what my point was in saying all of this. I just wanted to share where I am in my writing career after five years, and I wanted those who have read my books to know that I sincerely hope the stories moved them in such a way that the characters left a residue within their hearts. That's all. Help me celebrate today by giving someone a hug and telling them you love them. I'm heading out in a few minutes to go to the hospital and tell my dad that very thing. He's having surgery today...nothing major, but I want him to know I love him.

The Creative Cycle

I began a work back in 2007. It was the first time I sat down and started typing a book and knew it had to be finished. I had started a couple of stories in high school and set them to the side, lacking the confidence to be an author, and again in college, I started a couple of books, getting only a chapter or two written before the hideous creature titled Lack of Confidence swallowed my dreams and caused me to give up. 
The work I started in 2007 was a work of fantasy. It was to be a series of four books. I wrote the first and second draft of the first book. After finishing that I wrote Plain Jane and had it published. I started on the second book in the fantasy series once I finished Plain Jane, but then I had a request to write a companion novel to Plain Jane, so I set the two or three chapters in The Called Ones to the side and wrote Pretty Boy. After completing it, I went back to the fantasy story that started it all for me and writing. I added a few more chapters in the second book before I had another story come to life in my head. Wildflowers was birthed, so I once again set The Called Ones to the side and typed away, giving birth to a beautiful and tragic love story. Then I went back to my fantasy series, adding more chapters. It was at this point that I realized the first book needed more, so I went back to the first book and added additional chapters, a lot of them! 
After completing that, I expected to go finish the second book, but a different book was being birthed. I wrote the first half of it while it flowed and went back to the second book in The Called Ones series. It was during this time that I felt led to write a book for ministry. My husband and I are ministers, and I write teachings for adults, teenagers, and children. 2014 was dedicated to BASIC Training. I did not write within the realm of fiction during the entire year, outside of a chapter here and a chapter there! And now I am back to having that creative flow that is needed to write fiction. I've been mulling over the world I created in the first book in my fantasy series, and I am anxious to reenter Halanea and discover where the Called Ones go from here!
I'm expecting a great creative year in 2015! It would be nice to finally complete the second book and maybe even the third one! In a way it is the series that caused me to get serious about writing as a career, so I wonder at times if having it always lurking off to the side needed a little more here and a little more there is meant to keep me writing. What do you think? Do you have a motivator in your life that keeps you going back to your love or your hobby?

Even Though I am Gone

This is a song I wrote a few years back at the sudden passing of a friend's husband. I felt as if I was hearing him singing the words to her. I know that this was a personal message from him to her at the time, but I still feel that it can touch the hearts of others in a time of loss and grief. Even though those we love have left this life to enter the next, there is a part of their spirit that remains here with us, reaching out to us and letting us know we are never alone. 

EVEN THOUGH I AM GONE

Tears roll down your face

 As you watch me leave this place

 I always said, “I’ll be there for you.”

 My spirit just took flight

 You sit and cry all night

 I promise I’ll still be there for you!

Even though I am gone

 You are never alone

 Just remember I’m right there next to you

 And when you feel sad,

 lonely or mad,

 Just remember I’m right there next to you

My heart will never leave

 Grab a picture of me and cleave

 I promise I will be there for you

 Just look up to the sky

 And feel me by your side

 I promise I will be there for you

Even though I am gone

 You are never alone

 Just remember I’m right there next to you

 And when you feel sad,

 lonely or mad,

 Just remember I’m right there next to you

 

 Standing in a crowded room

 You feel over come with gloom

 I promise I am still there with you

 Alone at night you cry

 How you never said, “goodbye”

 I promise I see the tears that you cry

Even though I am gone

 You are never alone

 Just remember I’m right there next to you

 And when you feel sad,

 lonely or mad,

 Just remember I’m right there next to you

I Heard a Rumor

I released my first novel in 2010 but had some issues arise with the publisher, so I went through the process of getting out of my contract with them and re-released it. Since Plain Jane has recently been re-released, I wanted to share a small excerpt from it, along with a piece of my heart, on this site . I shared this once on Facebook a couple of years back, but I think it's worth another read. 

(excerpt from Plain Jane)

Mr. Stanley knew something was wrong, so he checked up on me. He approached my teachers and inquired about my status; then on October 28, he called me to his desk at the end of class. Being his aide, I assumed he had an errand for me to run, but instead he asked me to hang around after school because he wanted to talk to me. Mona Hampton overheard his request. 

     When the last bell of the day rang, I hung around to find out what Mr. Stanley wanted to speak to me about. I happened to notice Mona slowly edging her way to the door with a curious look spread across her face. As soon as she slipped out, Mr. Stanley shut the door. He sat me down and told me he knew I was barely passing all of my classes. Quizzing me, He asked about what was going on in my life to cause such a drastic change in my grades. I quietly sat with my head hung low, never answering any of his questions.

     “Aralyn, you are a brilliant young poet who can really make something of herself,” he said, encouraging me. 

     With tears in my eyes, I looked up at him and replied, “Nobody cares about poets, Mr. Stanley.” 

     “I do,” he insisted. “But if you don’t get your act together, I’m afraid you’re going to mess up your opportunities.”

     After at least ten minutes of prodding me for an explanation for my failing grades, he lectured me for an additional thirty minutes on the importance of a college education in the work force. When he was finished, he permitted me to leave. I left the room knowing I had messed up my life. I shut the door and looked up to see Mona standing at the end of the hall; the shame weighed so heavy on me that I quickly shifted my eyes to keep her from seeing through to my failures, but what she saw in that was something totally different. 

     The following day I woke up with a determination to change the path I was on. I set my mind to focus on my schooling. Since it was a Friday, I resolved within myself not to go out partying with Rhonda or Sheena that night. “You’re gonna have to shape up, Aralyn,” I told myself as I looked in the mirror and primped my hair.

     Ray picked me up as usual and walked me to my first class. As we walked through the hall, girls whispered amongst one another. Occasionally one would break out in a snicker. Guys looked me up and down like they were checking out my body or something; then a girl named Abigail walked right up to me and asked, “So, how’d you do it?”

     Perplexed, I asked, “Do what?”

     She laughed, “Oh, come on, for a teacher he’s hot. How’d you get him to sleep with you?”

     “What? What are you talking about?” I belted. 

     “Everybody’s been talking about it since last night. The whole school already knows; don’t act like little Miss Innocent. Mona saw it with her own eyes.”

     At the name Mona the light bulb in my brain turned on. What Mona had suspected when I couldn’t look her in the eyes was guilt, not the guilt I felt (the guilt of being a failure) but the guilt of sleeping with a teacher. I couldn’t breathe. I felt trapped in a small room with the walls closing in on me. I jerked my head from side to side searching for an escape route to no avail.

     Once again words were unleashed as weapons into my life, but this time there was no lone assailant clothed in white with tiny horns hidden beneath a thick head of hair; this time almost the entire student body had gathered to unleash my demise---words that came together and formed a heinous rumor!        

(Plain Jane, pgs. 251-253)

     The previous excerpt is from the chapter of my book titled “I Heard a Rumor.” 

     Words form weapons in the lives of many young people. Sometimes that weapon is a knife that stabs straight through the heart leaving the recipient with a deadly wound. The blade is often serrated with gossip and rumors.

     While writing Plain Jane, I felt led to place tiny pieces of myself within my character. That chapter was one of the most difficult for me to write because it tapped into a place within my soul and my past that I wanted to never reopen. While revisiting the time in my life when I was viciously attacked by my peers through a heinous rumor, I found an open wound.

     As I expressed Aralyn’s pain and emotions when one of her peers saw an innocent situation and twisted it into an ugly monster, I was truly conveying my own floodgate of hurt that surged to the surface of my heart as I typed. My heart pounded, my chest constricted, and tears flowed as I bore my soul; consequently, it was healing the lacerations left by my attackers.

     I made sure to form the weapon that shattered Aralyn’s life in a very different manner from the one that had been used upon me, yet I could not escape the similarities. Both weapons were sharpened by rumors and gossip leaving the victim to bleed out. Just as her rumor was not the same as mine, the placement in her life was different as well. For Aralyn it came during a time of misery and pushed her closer to the edge. For me it was the catalyst into the black abyss of depression that follows me to this day.

     You may be asking yourself why I am sharing this side of me. I think it is because I feel that people need to understand the consequences of gossip and rumors. I was fifteen years old when I was stabbed repeatedly in the heart by that blade. I was thirty-seven when I wrote Plain Jane and received my healing. Although I no longer have an open wound, I will forever carry the scar; unfortunately, there are those young people who never have the opportunity to heal.

                                                                                           Schledia Benefield