Tag: Books

First Acquired Book: Deathwatch, The Dark Poems Finding Authentic You Publishing #Robinsinclair #poetry #nashvillebooksigning #findingauthenticyoupublishing

Six months ago I began a new publishing company, based on my brand, Finding Authentic You. As the submissions rolled in, one book of poetry stood out, because of its beautifully crafted skill, articulate phrasing, and profound depth of character: Deathwatch: The Dark Poems.

Author, Dr. Robin Sinclair takes questions of Death, Religion, Love, and Writing, and mixes them up in a rather heady cocktail—shaken, not stirred! Full of unexpected twists and turns, these poems lead both to darkness, light, poignant questions about love, and to unexpected humor. You will not be disappointed with this pertinent look at death, dying, questioning, loving, and a writer’s perspective on emerging from life’s crises.

Robin Sinclair holds a Doctorate in English and American Literature from Duke University. Dr. Sinclair spreads her poetic wings with her musings and metaphors about Death. Born and raised in the South, Robin has lived a multi-cultural life, traveling often to her favorite Scottish Highlands, London, and Germany, where she travelled and studied European Culture for three years. She loves ballroom dancing, guns, motorcycles, antique silver, and comic books. She also iswidely acclaimed as a professional appraiser both on- and off-screen.

  • Join Me for the Book Launch This Friday
  • Cocktails: Wine and hors d’oeuvres at 6:00 p.m.
  • Place: 5001 Maywood Drive, Nashville 37211
  • Time: Friday, July 18 from 6:00 – 7:30 p.m.
  • Reading and signing: 6:30 p.m.

Two Examples of Poems from the Book:

The Lover’s Prayer

I stretch out along the ground, elbows sharply down-
pointed,
And pray, oh pray, to one who cannot hear, but who can
aid.
And who can say which is better? Can hear, but not aid?
Or, even, can hear, but will not aid?
Love is my lord; oh, King of Hearts! Hear me though You
cannot,

Love me, though You may not. Endure such pleading,
Even bored. Give me this day my food, some warmth, some
  hope for that, truly, is in Your keeping.
I rise and dust away the dust. To it, I shall come soon
  enough.
Phone held tight like a rosary at my side.
Beloved, beloved, beloved, a heartbeat count,
Do screens bear the imprint of fingertips, fumbling at
  repetition?
No, no one will find faint marks, scrabbled like a prisoner’s
on the stone doorjamb—beside Your electronic name!
Return Trip, Years Later

Where we really want to go is not a place, but a time.
We want to go—tourists of time—to return
To what was not appreciated enough,
Or valued enough,
Or lingered in long enough,
Though that would have been impossible,
For the joy, then, was not lingering, but doing.
The return is not doing, but remembering,\
And hoping—deceived—to do again.
A return to place equaling,
To a mind uninformed, yet, that time goes only one
  direction,
Doing and being again!
Frustrated, somber, on return
To say of there,
Wherever there is,
“It’s not the same.”

Buy this book on Amazon by Clicking here: 

2014-06-18 17.00.16

A product of Finding Authentic You Publishing, 2014
Accepting Submission for our Winter Bookshelf

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What Follows Truth?

What Follows Truth

I have had many of my hero-clients face their demons these past few weeks only to find that what follows is deep-seated grief—grief that they never got to express all the years they held back their important truths that would have liberated them and all the people around them.

Are tears from grief a necessary tool for healing? Absolutely. I once had a very precious nurse friend tell me that tears are like the blood that rushes to the surface of our skin to cleanse a wound when we cut ourselves. We bleed until the wound is clean and ready to heal. We cry until our souls are cleansed and ready to heal.

Necessary? Damn right.

There is no circumventing the steps of healing. You have a cancer that needs to be cut away. You go to the surgeon, and with precision, it is cut away. Then you bleed. Then you rest and heal. No one gets around the circumstance unless God intervenes with a miracle.

After that, no one really knows what’s going to happen with the people around you. But you do know one thing for sure: YOU ARE LIVING YOUR LIFE IN AUTHENTICITY! And you can trade nothing for that feeling of peace.

It took maybe fifteen years for my father to accept me as a gay man. It took five for my mother. My sisters were a lot more compassionate. My brother still doesn’t get it. But for me, I wouldn’t go back into the closet for anything. I’m free and healed.

Do my scars show? Sometimes.

They show when I get around a super religious bible-thumping person who believes I’m going to hell because I’m gay. I can feel my entire body wanting to retreat from their presence. When a child is abused or hurt or commits suicide because he/she is gay, I bleed inside.

But I know those scars are perfectly carved into my heart by God. They help me create safe boundaries and bring forth a sense of divine compassion that may help others in the future. After all, do we really want to go through our pain for nothing? I hope not.

So, truth. Is it worth it? You tell me.

 

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