Dancing with the Flame
By
Jamieson Wolf
Third
collected works of poetry * 212 pages
Author
Bio:
Jamieson has been writing since
a young age when he realized he could be writing instead of paying attention in
school. Since then, he has created many worlds in which to live his fantasies
and live out his dreams.
He is a Number One Best Selling
Author (He likes to tell people that a lot) and writes in many different
genre’s. Jamieson is also an accomplished artist. He works in mixed media,
charcoal and pastels. He is also something of an amateur photographer, a poet
and graphic designer.
He currently lives
in Ottawa Ontario Canada with his cat, Tula, who is
fearless.
Social Media Links:
Website: www.jamiesonwolf.com
Facebook: www.facebook.com/jamiesonwolf
Twitter: www.twitter.com/jamiesonwolf
Blurb:
Following the Number One Best Sellers,
Talking to the Sky and Talking with the Earth, Dancing with the Flame contains
poems that are part memoir and part journey towards self-love.
They are Wolf’s attempt to not only find
balance but to love all parts of himself, even those that are most difficult to
love.
They are a testament to the strength of
the human spirit. The poems show us that whatever life throws at us, with
courage anything is possible.
With unflinching honesty, Wolf talks about
disease, sexuality, physical disability and the healing power of love.
Buy
Links:
Excerpt:
What I Had Become
When the New Year
began,
I looked into the
mirror.
I saw a reflection
of myself
from long ago. I
was
lying on a bed,
weak,
my whole world
changed.
I watched as my
reflection
lifted a hand and
beckoned to me.
“Come on.”
He said.
I touched a hand to
the glass
and it was as if
there was no glass
there.
The veil between
the present
and the past was
thin.
I stepped through
the mirror
and found myself in
a place
that I remembered
but fought
so hard to forget.
It was dark and
there was only
one small light in
the room.
Even so, by that
light I saw
who I used to be
lying
on the bed, my past
self,
my other self. He
regarded me,
and I looked at
him.
I remembered that
day,
how the night
before the New Year
my life had changed
forever,
never to be the
same again.
I knew just how he
was feeling
as I had been him,
he had been me.
He was weak and
disoriented,
unable to walk very
well at all,
his whole world
seeming to
move around him,
unable to keep still.
He regarded me with
tired eyes,
the fear in them so
total.
He knew that
something was wrong.
“You forgot about
me.”
He said.
“You forgot our
anniversary.”
It was true. I had
forgotten.
Every year since
that day,
I always wondered
if this
would be the year
that it happened,
the year where I
lost control
of my body once
more.
For a while, I
lived in fear
of December 31st, of who I had been
and of what I had
become on that day.
“I’m sorry,”
I said.
“I did forget. I
did forget you.”
“Why?”
He asked.
“Because I left you
behind. Because I’m so much stronger now. So much happier.”
He regarded me with
a blank expression,
the fear increasing
in his eyes until
they were full of
tears.
“I don’t know
what’s wrong with me. I’m so afraid.”
“I know,”
I said kindly.
I sat on the bed
beside him and took his hand
in my own. It was
cool and sweaty and
I remembered how
warm I’d been,
how nothing had
felt right,
and how my own body
had turned against me.
“You’ll have to be
strong,”
I said.
“There is a lot
more pain coming, but you’ll have to be stronger than you’ve ever been. Can you
do that for me?”
“I don’t know how.”
“You don’t, but
you’ll learn. There will come a moment when you’ll want to quit, where you’ll
want to give up and head towards the darkness. But I promise you, good times
are coming.”
He looked at me
with such
an open expression,
one of yearning
for something
better. I remembered
wearing that look,
wishing and hoping
so fiercely that it
was painful.
“Okay,”
he said.
“Okay.”
I heard my partner
calling me from
the other side of
the mirror,
his deep voice
making the liquid glass
move in ripples. I
took one last look
at who I used to be
and patted his hand,
leaned forward to
kiss him on the forehead.
“I have to go now.”
“I know you do.
Don’t forget me, okay?”
“I won’t, I
promise.”
With that, I stood
and moved towards the glass.
When I stepped
through the glass,
I left behind what
I had been
and into what I had
become.
Questions for Authors
Is there a message in your book that you want
readers to grasp?
For me, it’s all about the
dance.
I often look at having
Multiple Sclerosis and Cerebral Palsy as elements, as something that lives
inside me and has physical form. I often feel as if I am playing with fire to
some degree. Some days it’s very hot to touch and others, it’s as if the fire is
inviting me to dance.
I chose to accept the
invitation. I love all of myself, even the MS and the CP as they have taught me
to be strong and what really, truly, matters.
So I chose to hold out my
hand and continue dancing to my own beat. It’s the only way I can roll.
Was there an Author who inspired you to write?
There were a few. In
particular Stephen King and Carol Shields. I was fortunate enough to meet Carol
Shields and told her I wanted to be a writer. She told me to write, to get to
know the craft of the pen and paper.
How did you come up with the characters in your
books?
Usually, they’re based off
of myself or people I know. Or they just appear on the page. For my poems, I
draw a lot from personal experience or the conversations I hear around me.
What are your current projects?
I’m working on the second
novel in a projected trilogy and compiling a book of short stories.
Do you see writing as a career?
Indeed! It’s what I want to
do with my life. I’m happiest when I’m writing.
Do you ever picture yourself and one of your heroes? If so, which one?
I’m all throughout my books.
They always say if you want to know a writer, read what he’s written. There are
parts of my characters in every book.
What is the hardest part of writing your book?
Being too hard on myself and sabotaging my writing as I’m
going. Also loosing track of the story and getting too wrapped up in it.
Writing is a joy and sometimes I forget that.
If you could say
anything to your readers what would it be?
That I’m honoured and humbled that they read my work. I just
enjoy what I do. The fact that I get to meet so many wonderful people is just
icing on the cake. Thank you for making it a not so solitary craft.
What is your favorite
Genre and why?
I’d probably pick fantasy, because anything can and does
happen. There are no limits to the imagination that way.
Do you prefer to
write alone or do you like to collaborate with other authors?
I’ve been fortunate enough to write a novel with someone
else once, but usually my writing is done on my own.
Do you ever get
writer’s block? If so, how do you get through it?
I walk away from the story for a bit and do something
different, like cleaning or my workout and think on where it’s going. Or I
paint a canvass to clear out the head.
When you are reading
a book, who is your favorite author?
Just one? I love Stephen King, JK Rowling, Michelle Zink,
Margaret Atwood, Christopher Moore. I could go on and on!
Do you come up with
the cover or does someone else do it?
If I’m indie publishing a book, I do the covers but if I’m
having a book published with a publisher, they take care of it themselves.
If you could change
anything in your writing what would that be?
To write more and doubt myself less.
What book if any would
you want to be made into a movie?
I’d love to see The Passage and The Twelve made into movies!
That would be epic!
Who would you want to
play the hero/heroine?
Oh, there are so many characters in those books but so you
could have an epic cast, but I’d love to see Dakota Fanning playing Amy.
Everyone uses
computers, tablets, phones and no one uses handwritten form or typewriters,
what do you prefer to use?
I use my computer for writing as I can’t write very well
with a pen and paper. I miss that though!
Is there a ritual you
do everything before you begin your book?
I meditate a bit and remind myself to be open to what wants
to come.
What do you do when
you finish your book and turn it in to the editor?
Usually pouring myself a glass of wine or having a cup of
tea.
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