Jamieson Wolf
Number-one bestselling author
light/night – A Poem
I am in a deep slumber when a
light
goes off in my mind,
and I am staring into the dark,
wondering how I will fall asleep again.
Instead of letting my mind fill with worry,
which is what I usually do,
I focus on the sounds around me,
letting them lull me to sleep:
the wind is howling outside my window,
singing in its whispering wail.
My beautiful husband sighs beside me,
lost in a hopeful dream.
From a spot between my feet,
I can hear our cat snoring contentedly,
his purrs a soft motor on my ankles.
The moment before the
night
takes me once again,
a thought comes to me:
I’m happy.
Followed quickly by another:
Crap, I hope I didn’t jinx anything.
Grief for a Writer – On the Closing of Cobblestone Press
It’s no secret: I love love.
I love the act of being in love, the bliss of being loved and the infatuation that becomes lust and hopefully turns into love. I have always been a romantic at heart, so it should come as no surprise that I cut my writing teeth with romance novels.
My very first romance novel, Valentine, was published by Cobblestone Press LLC. They were a diverse and inclusive publisher that gave my voice a home. When I began writing the book, I had no idea what I was doing. I have always read romance novels. Caridad Pineiro, Nora Roberts, Diana Palmer, Linda Lael Miller and more were my constant companions and the worlds that they brought to life for me were filled with characters that I grew to love.
Before I started writing Valentine, I took a look online to see if there was anyone writing gay romance novels. There wasn’t a lot to choose from back in 1998. I’m not sure how I landed on Cobblestone Press, but once I found the site, I became overjoyed. There was a platform for me. They actively published gay romance and LGBTQ erotic romance novels.
It took me a while to write Valentine. I had heard an old myth about how Valentine had been a cleric who had been marrying people in secret against Emperor Claudius II who had forbidden any kind of marriage. He was jailed and watched over by Asterius, his jailer and protector while Valentine waited for execution.
Asterius had a blind daughter. The legend goes that Valentine gave a handwritten card he had made to the blind girl and upon trying to read the word, the girls sight was restored. I loved that myth and wondered what would have happened if Valentine and Asterius fell in love with each other. What kind of things would happen then?
The book grew from this idea and ended up spawning two other books. Valentine also launched me into the world of M/M romance. At the time, I assumed that my books found an audience with gay men that wanted to read fiction with them at the forefront. I didn’t know that most of my audience was women and I loved that so much when I learned who was reading my books.
I would go on to write forty-two romance stories for Cobblestone Press. I even taught a workshop for Cobblestone Press on how to write M/M romance that I called Riding the Lighting (which should be out later this year). I loved being at the forefront of gay romance and M/M erotic romance. I wrote for Mari Gras Press and Breathless Press, too. My first number one bestselling book was Hard, the book that launched the M/M romance line with Breathless Press.
Both Mardi Gras Press and Breathless Press closed their doors, but Coblestone stayed strong…that is until the owner and operator or the press became ill. Still, she pushed onwards until she couldn’t anymore and it was announced that Cobblestone Press was closing its doors. I thought I would have time to prepare, that I would have time to properly honour the press that had given me so much. However, the announcement was made and within the space of a day, Cobblestone Press was no more.
I have been grieving in a way. I mean, I learned so much writing for Cobblestone Press. I learned about structure, pace, character and setting through the edits of all my Cobblestone books. I learned about synonyms while editing Valentine. If the writing had been fun, it was nothing compared to the editing. I remember getting the first-round edits on Valentine and the editors note saying such lovely things as: “A dick can do more than grow hard. It can thicken, pulse, throb, vibrate, etc.” It was an eye opener for me. I knew that the editors were merely helping me make a better story with more fleshed-out characters, but with each book, I kept trying to find more words that would suffice.
I will miss Cobblestone Press. It was the platform I told most of my stories on. I am grieving for the loss of a publisher that gave me a voice and my stories and characters a home. I will miss Cobblestone Press and everything that they stood for.
The books I published with Cobblestone Press will be republished, but it won’t be the same. I will always and forever be grateful for them. I’m the writer I am today because of Cobblestone Press and I am so thankful for the gift that they gave me.
Take a click below and check out some of my book covers.
Trying to Find Comfort – An Update
I’ve been rather quiet on here.
That has mostly been because I’ve been busy. I finished the first draft of my new memoir last week and I’ve been so intent on finishing that. You know when you can see the end in sight? When I get like that with a book, I just plug in and keep going. I have a terrible habit of working on a lot of different projects at once, often writing and editing two different books at the same time and painting at the same time. The words and the paints have been even more of a comfort lately.
I just knew that I was so close to finishing the first draft of Someone Else’s Life, I knew that I had to give it my full attention while my memory was good and the memories were fresh in my mind. The more I wrote of the memoir, the more memories showed themselves, climbing out of the shadows of my mind. While the going was good, I went with it and writing this book has taught me a lot about myself and the foundations on which make up a lot of who I am today. I’m going through the book and writing the second draft.
Once I’m done the second draft, I will send the book out to beta readers to see what needs to be reworked and or changed before it goes off to the editors. I’m planning on self-publishing it sometime within this year, but no idea when yet. I have the ideas for my next book written out and it will keep until I’m done with Someone Else’s Life.
I’m also working on stuff for Minotaur. It’s hard for me to believe that after so long in my mind, the book is out there in the world and people have been reading it! Its wonderful and nerve wracking at the same time to have the book out there. I’m hoping to organize a book tour and some interviews. I’ll keep you posted on news as it develops, but things are in the works.
There are a few more projects I would like to complete. I want to put out a book of short stories; I haven’t had a collection in years. I’d like to put out a new book of poems, and I have an idea for a follow up to Minotaur. I’d like to have another art show, and I am always being called to the easel for something.
But the thing is, I’ve also been trying to make myself a priority.
I’ve also been going through a bit of a difficult time and struggling with my mental health more than usual and I’ve taken the time to rest, recuperate and find my centre. I didn’t want to lose myself to the forest again. Too often, I push through and keep pushing until I’m exhausted. I don’t want to do that to myself anymore. It’s hard to stop the cycle of forcing myself to work against the grind of my own mind, body and spirit. I can’t continue without making myself a priority.
Too often, I just keep going. I keep writing, painting, working full time and I just push through it and keep going until my body stops me. That’s my usual pattern, but I wanted to try something different this time. I wanted to honour the creative work I do by honouring myself. I can’t create if my body won’t let me. I have been trying to find my balance and that should start with me. I can’t create from an empty well, and everything starts with me, including my frame of mind. More than anything, I’ve been trying to find comfort in a world which I no longer makes sense.
It’s been a difficult journey, but I’m trying to unravel the foundation’s that gave me the bad habits that push me so much. I no longer need to fight in order to survive, I have to focus on living. It’s hard to let go of that way of thinking. I’m trying to undo trauma and find myself within the reflections of who I have been in the past. I need to be able to see who I have become in the mirror, too, not just who I have been.
Stay tuned for more coming soon I promise. I hope you are all well in the world that has become so difficult to understand.
The Way You See Me – A Poem
When we found each other,
I was just beginning
to put myself back together.
It had taken me months to gather
the pieces of myself
that had been taken from me.
I had been rebuilding,
placing the shards one by one,
the holes welcoming what had been missing.
When you looked at me,
you saw the pieces that I was holding
and told me that I was beautiful.
With a gentle touch,
you helped me put the pieces back,
cradling them like fine jewels.
Through your eyes,
I could see myself as I never had before;
Mirrors had become portals
instead of fun house glass.
Even though the glass sometimes warps itself,
the shards that were broken occasionally try
to wriggle free,
you always manage to help me see
who I really am.
You are able to see me
without the filters of dislike
that have built up over time.
When I look in the mirror now,
though the internal critic can be cruel,
you help me to look deep within myself
so that I can see the garden
that we have grown together.
If I get right up close to the mirror,
I can sometimes catch the flame of my light
that burns brighter because of
you.
Times Fool – A Poem
I am trying to let go of time.
Not everything needs to be done like clockwork.
I know this,
but I am a creature of routine.
Time has been both my safety net and my touchstone.
Repetition brings me comfort.
It brings an assurance that there is something within my life
that I can control,
and comfort is a hard thing to break free of.
I measure everything I do in time,
in how long it takes,
how many seconds and minutes have passed.
Whatever task I take on during the day
is usually done at the same time:
a glass of water when I wake at 5:30,
followed by a shower that is exactly twenty to thirty minutes long,
depending on whether or not I need to shave.
Everything is routine,
nothing changes even as I try to break free,
finding both solace and restraint as
I attempt to let go of the hold that time has,
It’s so tempting to let time hold me in its embrace,
for it never leads me wrong if I honour it.
Time does not know it,
but I have started to make dinner later each day,
starting with a few seconds past six,
then a few minutes and then a quarter of an hour.
Recently,
dinner was ready a full half hour beyond six.
No one died,
and the earth did not fall away from me.
Standing in the kitchen after dinner,
I was the very soul of a rebel,
each minute that I’ve taken back like jewel
that has been found within myself.
However,
after glancing at a clock and seeing the late hour,
I don’t want to push it too far,
lest time begins to fall away
completely.
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Jamieson Wolf has written a compelling story about navigating multiple sclerosis and cerebral palsy. His story will touch your heart, make you cry, then laugh, and inspire you. A touching memoir with a bit of magic…and tarot! ~ Theresa Reed, author of The Tarot Coloring Book
Jamieson Wolf 