Category Creative Writing Tidbits

Sunrise / Sunset

(Excerpted from The Path, by Michelle Devon, Copyright 2006)

Isn’t it strange how some things that are complete opposites can often be so similar that, to the casual observer, they appear to be the same? For example, can you truly tell the difference between a sunset and a sunrise? Except for the time of day and the direction the sun is facing, there really is no distinct difference in the appearance of sunrise versus a sunset if, for example, a photograph is taken with no indication of the outside factors. Both are just as beautiful, yet, they truly are near opposites in meaning.

The sappy butterfly feeling you get in the pit of your stomach when you are ridiculously in love is not any different in physical sensation to the queasy butterfly feeling you get when you look at a serious wound...

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My Choice – I Wasn’t Ready

I wasn’t ready to say goodbye.

There was so much more I wanted to do, to share with you. Remember that restaurant in the shopping center where we used to always shop? I never took you to that restaurant, and I always meant to. Or that pond where the flags are placed every year? I wanted to walk hand in hand with you and watch those flags fly. There was just so much left I wanted to do with you. No, I just wasn’t ready to say goodbye.

I wasn’t ready to say goodbye.

There was so much more I wanted to tell you, to share with you, to show you. You left me alone when I was just getting to know you. If I’d known we would never share like this again, I’d tell you everything about me that I kept to myself, share every feeling and emotion...

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The Semantics of I Love You

(Excerpted from The Path, by Michelle Devon, Copyright 2006)

What did you think I meant when I told you I loved you? Did you think I was asking a question that needed a reply? Did you think that I was making a promise to you?

Why does saying “I love you” have to mean anything more than an expression of a feeling deep inside?

If I say I love you, I do not expect this means you will love me back. If I say I love you, I am not promising you that I will never fail you. I am not telling you that I want anything in return. I am not even asking for your acceptance of that love.

Love comes in so many forms. A parent loves a child and a child loves a parent—this is a feeling of unconditional acceptance—a ‘required’ love, but it is often stronger than any other love one can ever witness.

  • Love can be an emotion.
  • Love can be an act.

One can be in love, feel love, show love, make love. But in the end, it’s just a word—a word that holds little meaning when said too often or too little. A word and nothing more, because it’s the actions that make the emotion real, and the emotion that you feel—not the words that are spoken.

So when I tell you that I love you...

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Comfort Zones

(Excerpted from The Path, by Michelle Devon, Copyright 2006)

A comfort zone is that place you find yourself when you know what to expect, and you are comfortable there, even if you are not in a good place.

Looking back over my life, I have never felt more alive than when I force myself to step outside of my comfort zones. It can be exhilarating, exciting, and sometimes even life altering to step outside of that which is comfortable and explore the realm of possibilities.

I realize in the past that one of the reasons I’ve stayed firmly inside my comfort zones, even and especially the ones that were not healthy for me emotionally and physically, is because of two little words: trust and faith.

In order to step outside of your comfort zones, you have to have trust—trust in yourself, trust in ...

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Broken & Beautiful

I heard a wise man say once that we should only keep those things in our life that are either useful or beautiful. Everything that is not useful or beautiful, we should toss out and not carry it with us.

Once I held something beautiful in my hands. I could turn it around, look at it, and from every angle, I saw the beauty. It was obvious beauty, something anyone could see at a glance.

One day, something happened and this beautiful item broke.

I was sad when it broke—hurt and angry that it broke, and I cried when I looked upon the damage that had been done to what was once so beautiful. While I could still see the glimmers of the beauty that was once there, it was no longer whole, and therefore, no longer the thing of beauty it was once.

Yet, I could not bring myself to throw it out, because I could recall, remember with startling clarity, the beauty that was once there.

So I keep it, though broken as it is, knowing it is no longer beautiful or useful to me, and I use it to remind myself of the beauty that was once. Some days the reminder makes me smile at the memory, and other days, the reminder makes me sad all over again for the knowing that it is no longer beautiful.

In keeping this broken memory, I find that this once-beautiful thing now sits on a shelf beside other things that are not broken, things that are still beautiful, still whole.

When people visit me, they do not see the beautiful things.

No, in fact, they always ask me, “What is this one doing here? It’s broken.”

Eventually, they ...

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Understanding and Killing Spiders

I have issues, I have problems, I have obstacles to overcome … I am thankful every day that my life isn’t perfect, but it is more perfectly suited to me than it ever has been.

I am not the type who needs everyone to always agree with me, nor do I have a need to even be right most of the time (though once in awhile is nice), but I have always had a need to be understood. With understanding comes acceptance, even if approval cannot be there.

There are many things people do in this world that I do not agree with – some of those things I will never understand, and that makes those things hard to accept. Some of those things I do understand, and even if I can say that it’s not right for me or I disapprove of the decisions someone has made, with understanding of why they made those decisions, I can accept their actions as right for them.

To me, understanding is...

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I’m Genre-less

So I mailed off a packet for my book–WHAT BROTHERS DO–a 2010 Faulkner/Wisdom Semifinalist, to an independent publisher today. They are a big one, one with multiple best-selling authors on the NYT and LA lists. There was a time I said I would not submit directly to a publisher, because I really do and still do want an agent, and when you submit to a publisher first, you limit what your agent can do when you finally get one. It’s best to let the literary agent, who is trained, educated and experienced in the industry and who has connections and knows people you don’t know, do the work they are being paid to do when they take part of your income for selling your book. I have no problems with the agent relationship. I want an agent, badly, but I want the right agent, for the right book, who will do the right job for the money.

I will find the right one.

My problem is, I have t...

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I don’t know how long I sat there, staring, emotionless, growing colder with each passing minute. My hands were shaking, my body shivering, and I felt sick inside.

I didn’t know what to do. I didn’t know what to feel. All I could feel, all I was consciously aware of was the cold. It was so very cold.

Yet the temperature in the room was normal. The air conditioner was off, the ceiling fan had ceased spinning, but I was cold.

Is this what shock feels like? Who knew that anger, white hot anger, could make a body feel so cold? Was I angry? Was that an emotion?

Well, perhaps there is progress, because a moment ago, I was numb and unable to feel anything. Anger is better than apathy.

But I’m so cold. And I’m scared.

Yes, that is it, another emotion. I am scared. Fear.

And if this goes like it ha...

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My Life: The Movie (reprint)

Just shy of 41 years ago (gasp) I was offered a starring role in a soon to be released move called My Life. I wasn’t really given a choice whether or not I wanted to play the role; it was a union thing, just kinda had to do it. I suppose that if I had ever wanted to, I could have ended the role in My Life at any time, but truth is, I’ve never been one to take the easy way out of anything; so I played my part as best I could with what I had to work with. I wasn’t able to choose the original cast, the budget was low, and the setting was really poor, but I gave it my best.

During the production of this film, I was offered plenty of opportunities to play my part alongside others, cameo appearances by people who played the parts of ‘friends’ and then there were the recurring roles of  ‘family’,...

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Best of Michy: I Cannot Save You

Michy’s Note: This was written by me, over ten years ago now, and I’ve shared it in The Path and on AC and a few other places, but it’s one of my favorite essays, because it speaks to a condition in society that is tough for everyone: codependency. It’s a buzz word, but in the instance of this essay, it was written with the thought of a drug addict and alcoholic in mind. However, drugs and alcohol aren’t the only types of situations that result in codependency. I think anyone who has been in this situation for any type of codependency with be able to relate to this one. Enjoy, please share, and hopefully comment too – I just love comments!


I can watch you on the water, struggling to breathe, reaching for the safety of the shore.

And I cannot save you.

I can reach for you and try to pull you ...

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