WHY I WRITE.

I write because I want to document how we live, love, and survive. I want my books to capture the feeling of home.

My mother and my grandmothers influence my writing just as they influenced how I view the world. Their pearls of wisdom were not appreciated in my youth, but I understand the wisdom of their words now.

I always gravitated to older people when I was younger. I liked to listen to their stories but unfortunately their stories are tattered and faded fragments that I have mostly forgotten. I remember recording my great-grandfather’s story for a high school assignment. How I wish I had that recording, because I can’t remember the questions or the answers; but I remember the man. I remember the essence of the people that are no longer here with me.

I try to saturate the pages of my book with their essence, with our stories. Bittersweet is the story of first love and all the confusion of it. Finally, Doing Me! is the story of 4 women assessing their lives and doing what it takes to be happy. Rolling In The Deep, yet to be published, is the story of love for a child, husband, wife, friend, and neighborhood. This story has the complexity of a fine wine. It has a mystery, a ghost tale, love, and a changing landscape of a South Central, Los Angeles neighborhood.

My books are available on Amazon and Bookbaby Publishers. Your support is needed and appreciated!

Bittersweet, by Evelyn C. Fortson https://store.bookbaby.com/book/bittersweet1 or http://www.amazon.com/dp/B095FQKYT7

Finally Doing Me! by Evelyn C. Fortson https://store.bookbaby.com/book/finally-doing-me or https://www.amazon.com/dp/B09TG3NMTH

Happy Mother's Day

Happy Mother’s Day

Happy Mother's Day to every woman that has cared for, protected, went without, and prayed over a child’s life. Happy Mother’s Day to the women that carried their child in their wombs or only with their hands. Happy Mother’s Day to the women that did the best that they could to raise a kind, loving, self-sufficient human being.

Some of us mothers will be celebrated by our children and some of us will wait for a phone call that may not come, while others only have memories of happier mother’s days.

I’m not a poet, but I wrote a poem about my mother for a creative writing class I took last year that I would like to share.

My Mother’s Voice

Her voice has not faded, not for me yet

A sweet quality that was hers alone

I mimic her words, so I won’t forget

They stay in my head, reside in my bones

Just when I think that her sweet voice has gone

Like twirling leaves blown by a phantom wind

I hear her voice singing a sweet, sweet song

Quaking like the shout of a hundred men

If I had known that our days were ending

I would have made more time for you and me

Memories to keep me from descending,

Into a space that would be hard to flee

Pictures can’t replace the feel of your face

But the sound of your voice---it does embrace

I didn’t always celebrate my mother on Mother’s Day, sometimes all she got was a phone call, but she always knew that she was loved.

For the women waiting by the phone, just know that your children will always remember how much you loved them, and that is a gift that is more precious than gold.

TRANSITIONS

One of the definitions of transition is the process or period of changing from one state or condition to another. Life is one transition after another. When we were children, we acted as children. When we were teenagers, we were reckless adventurers. From young adulthood to middle aged hopefully we were maturing. Now as seasoned adults we have transitioned from foolishness to wisdom.

Can you see how your life has changed with each season? Are you wiser than you were in your 20s, 30s, 40s, 50s?

Looking back on my life there are things that I would do differently, but if I had would I be better off or worse? I will never know the answer to that question, so I don’t entertain it. At some point in your life, you have to tell yourself, It is what it is.

As I transition from middle age to elderly, wisdom has taught me to revel in the freedom of age. I’m enjoying the luxury of it. I get up when I want, I sleep when I want, and I do what I want. Sometimes I think being older is like being a big kid that has money. But being older also has the responsibility of guiding and helping young people of all ages to become the best humans they can be. I’m so grateful that my grown son, who is his own man, still indulges his momma by listening to my views. I know that he will ultimately decide what’s best for him, but he respectfully listens whether he agrees or not.

The best part of aging is if you have done it right, the young people around you will show you the respect that you deserve.