Didi Oviatt

Author of suspense novels Search For Maylee, Aggravated Momentum, The Stix, and New Age Lamians. As well as the short story collection Time Wasters and (co-author of) The Suspenseful Collection.



Breath and Swim: Guest Post, by Chloe Aston

I’m so very excited to welcome Chloe Aston to the blog today. She’s a beautiful young woman, inside and out. She loves to write short stories, and her own growing blog is really quite impressive! Check out Chloe at One Hundred Daffodils, you won’t be disappointed in the least.
What I love most about Chloe’s stories, is the unique twist on character prospective. Chloe has a talent in where she writes as if she’s on the outside looking in. It’s such a poetic approach to short stories. Personally, it reminds me of an angel on the characters shoulder giving them insight to themselves. It’s positively lovely!

So, without any further ado… Meet Chloe!! Dive into her description of self, as well as one of her super short yet highly impactful stories!

About Me
From a young age, I have adored reading, disappearing into a different world for as long as possible. This lead to my desire to create these worlds for other people so that they can escape too. I may only be 17 but my optimism and determination have helped me set up my little blog, in order to share the little worlds I have created so far as well as my thoughts on the books I have read so far. Who knows where it will go?
Please enjoy my short story and follow the link to my page where there are more!

Breath and Swim

Breath. Down. Take a breath. And swim…

The air wasn’t coming easily; your lungs in a frenzied panic, desperately reaching for anything but the choking, suffocating water. Screaming for a reprieve. Screaming for relief. It burns, streaming down your throat in a fiery path of control. Still you push on. There’s no time.

Slicing through the pool, it’s difficult to see your competitors. They could be behind, or they could be ahead. You can’t let them be ahead… Kick. Kick. Kick. Push harder. This is your last chance to qualify for the Nationals. You need this. You want this. But they want it more.

Your parents have been pushing you down this slippery path since you swam your first length, gangly limbs and strong lungs, pushing through the water as fast as you can could. You don’t feel quite as fast anymore.

You remember your first trainer; he used to encourage you with a warm smile and calloused hand. He would embolden you to push a little harder, swim another race or survive the endless aching and intolerable early mornings.  With him, you felt like you were the best, with him you were excited for the glory. His enthusiasm made all of it worth it.

It was a few years ago when you considered quitting, it didn’t seem fun anymore. He picked you up and showed you what could come out of your time. He showed you what was possible.

He left a few months ago now, leaving you in this drenching ambition. You’re tired, out of breath.  You feel like you’re sinking. It’s draining. All of it. But you still swim, still kick. You can see the end, the repetitive white tiles and the tips of people’s feet as they cheer you on. The roaring reaches beneath the water, eating it’s way into you. They’re cheering for you. They want you to win.

Or maybe they’re screaming for the winner. The winner that isn’t you.

You can see your parent’s faces in your head, smiling, hiding the disappointment behind their false grins and supportive pats when you drag yourself out of the water, no strength left and no medal. They wanted you to win. They wanted it more than you did.

Tomorrow morning, you will be back in the pool going over what you did wrong. The sound of frustration filling the air, echoing off walls until it disappears into the consuming water. You will listen, swim harder, like a frenzied animal, hunting down its prey with an unrelenting fervour.

Or you won’t… Or you could lie around in bed all morning. You’ve never done that before. You don’t have to do what your parents want. You could do what you want; what you feel like doing.

You could be happy.

Strokes slowing, head resolving, you close your eyes. Your body relaxing in the churning water around you.

That lane doesn’t quite seem so constricting now.

When you open them you see the other competitors racing past you. All of them. Overtaking you, barely noticing you. You had been ahead…

Turning your head away from your anxious parents so they don’t see the grin slowly forming on your face, you tip your head back. It should bother you that you could have won the gold.

It doesn’t.




#poetry Review: Versions of the Self, by Christy Birmingham 4.5 stars


Poetry for me is hit and miss. I either love it, or I hate it. It either pulls me in and makes me think and feel deeply, or it puts me off completely. Not very often do I find middle ground. Oddly enough I was reluctant to read this book because I follow Christy’s work on When Women Inspire. I love her approach, as well as the unique and resounding subjects she often tackles. She’s inspiring and supportive, and honestly I was a little worried that reading a book of her poetry might disappoint after I’ve become quite fond of her stuff up until this point. I’ve even had Versions of the Self downloaded on my Kindle for months, just waiting for me to buck up and face my lingering fearful curiosity.

Luckily for me, it didn’t disappoint! Not even close. It was far from disappointing, and I feel even more fond of Christy Birmingham and her writing because of it!

Versions of the Self is categorized by way of events and emotions. Each page tells a story of it’s own, in a very creative way. One thing that I love about this poetry is that it has sort of an abstract feel, yet the emotion poured in also gives it a traditional, old fashion type squeeze. For lack of better words I found it well-rounded, solid.

In this book Christy reveals a side of herself that most people hide. The bravery it took to expose the level of vulnerability here is absolutely commendable. Her heart and soul was tossed around by relationships, both with a lover, herself, and family loss. The angle she took to describe these events and emotions was different than anything I’ve ever read.

Christy has a way of using words to describe physical objects in her own metaphors. It’s such a breath of fresh air to read page after page where every way of thinking is out of the box. This is no cookie cutter book of poetry, and I love it that much more because of this fact. Keep making magic with words, Christy! This is truly your gift!


Imagine a shift to the way you see the world that arises through poetic narration.

Imagine the world, at its base level, is a collection of selves. These selves collide, disperse, intermingle, and share themselves in lines of free verse. Such is the premise of Versions of the Self, poetry that assumes multiple types of selves exist and relate in ways that alter them. Each of the eight chapters looks at a different type of self, including the singular “I” and romantic interactions. These unique 80 poems definitely color themselves outside of the lines.

Making 2018 Our Bitch #writers #poem

To the Independent writers who charge each New Year,

With a fresh boost of confidence overpowering the cheer.

We lower our brows and draw conscious breath,

There’s no room for stagnancy we’ll write till the death.

The independent road’s rough, it’s yet to be paved, 

We hustle and work to make our own way.

Our bodies know nothing of rest or of sleep,

Our brains are too busy to let in the weak.

 Sometimes we’re distracted and sometimes we get weird,

Our projects have tendency to be permanently seared.

Our characters take over our personalities and minds,

We can never escape them its all part of the grind.

As the New Year approaches so does that itch,

And the confidence is cranked to make 2018 our BITCH!!


Happy writing, Indi-warriors!! The New Year is approaching and I can’t wait to see what it brings!! I know I have big plans, how about you?

Lost Thought #abstract #poetry

Shouting into the dark,

I scream in the chaos of a cluttered mind.

It has to be in here somewhere.

That one thought.

Its beautiful, and everything, and lost.

My voice carries louder, hoping to reach that lovely conundrum.

Perhaps it’ll hear the sound, follow it, and find its way back out where it belongs.

Winter Bulb

Please don’t make me go in that cold damp dirt,

I’m small, and I’m fragile, I know it will hurt.

You’re meant to be planted, you’re a winter bulb,

Only when you blossom, will your story be told.

The weight is too heavy, I can’t hardly breath,

It’s squeezing me tight, please help me, help me, I’m only a seed.

Take in a breath, find your roots, reach down deep,

Look around, and find I’ve given you everything you need.

I’m cracking, I can feel it, please don’t let me die,

Why don’t I believe you? Feeling so lost, I give up, I only cry.

Those tears give you water, just open your eyes,

You’ve cracked cause your sprouting, you’ll soon find meaning in life.

My muscles are clenched, the ground is freezing,

I’m grabbing for something, anything to help my body from seizing.

Where did you go? Why won’t you pull me out?

You promised you’d stay, you said you’d help me to sprout.

You lied and abandoned me, I’m alone and starving, I have no sight,

I reach up for nourishment, I pull hard through the tears and fight.

There’s no hope I can feel it, I’m left alone in my sorrow to linger,

My body’s shut down, all but one last up reaching finger.

Wait, what is that? There’s a small warmth above me,

With every ounce I can gather, I pull up, I have to see.

This must be it, I pull again with all my might,

It’s the sun! I let go of my fears, opening myself to the light.

My colors are beautiful, I’ve dug out through despair,

I’ve been stuck for so long, I can finally relax and take in fresh air.

I’m glad to see you, I have been waiting, so patiently from above,

I’ve dreamt of this day with a smile, I just knew those colors I’d love.

Why did you leave me when I needed you the most?

I begged and I pleaded but you were gone, like a ghost.

On the contraire my sweet seed, I have been here all along,

I nourished the soil, tied your roots down, made the bond.

I blessed you with patience and strength, by giving you time and fear,

The cold all around, made you find warmth inside yourself my dear.

Now that you’ve found your own strength to grow,

You can never be broken, even in the next winters blow.

The seasons will come then leave, sometimes even violently,

You have a long life a head, I will stay with you silently.

I will sit back now, let you reflect on the good in your life,

Take one day at a time, trust in healing, and in the power given with great strife.

-Didi Oviatt

Devastation’s Aftermath

Scattered thoughts, they always move

In and out they dance they groove

They come and leave,  so unexpected

Slip through the cracks undetected

Disaster has struck, there’s so much to do

Everything is lost, its gone, askew

Overwhelming moments make time stand still

A life now foreign, can’t cope, can’t deal

All concentration lost to the touch

Floats in a breeze, mind left to mush

The world moves on, while we’re stuck in debris

There’s no where to go, we can’t even flee

Move forward physically, we have no choice

But inside our broken heart, a distant screaming voice

*In reflection of 2017 hurricane season. Please keep the victims of mother nature in your thoughts BEYOND the time its featured in the media. Let our hearts bleed together and heal together as time continues to move.*







Song Lyric Inspiration Day: Good To Be Alive, Andy Grammar

It’s been a while since I posted the lyrics to a song. Today, this one struck a particular chord. Enjoy the words to this insanely inspirational song!

I’ve been grinding so long, been trying this shit for years
And I got nothing to show, just climbing this rope right here
And if there’s a man upstairs, he kept bringing me rain
But I’ve been sending up prayers and something’s changed

I think I finally found my hallelujah
I’ve been waiting for this moment all my life
Now all my dreams are coming true, ya
I’ve been waiting for this moment

And it’s good to be alive right about now
Good, good, good, good to be alive right about now
Good, good, good, good to be alive right about now
Hallelujah, let that bass line move ya, say yeah
It’s good to be alive right about now

I was dead in the water, nobody wanted me (Uh huh)
I was old news, I went cold as cold can be
But I kept throwing on coal tryna make that fire burn (Uh huh)
Sometimes you gotta get scars to get what you deserve (Uh huh)
I kept moving on and now I’m moving up (Uh huh)
Damn, I’m feeling blessed with all this love

I think I finally found my hallelujah
I’ve been waiting for this moment all my life
Now all my dreams are coming true, ya
I’ve been waiting for this moment

And it’s good to be alive right about now
Good, good, good, good to be alive right about now
Good, good, good, good to be alive right about now
Hallelujah, let that bass line move ya, say yeah
It’s good to be alive right about now

I almost can-, cannot handle it
I could get u-, could get used to this
I almost can-, cannot handle it
I could get u-, could get used to this

I think I finally found my
(Hallelujah, hallelujah, hallelujah, hallelujah
Hallelujah, hallelujah, hallelujah)

And it’s good to be alive right about now
Good, good, good, good to be alive right about now
Good, good, good, good to be alive right about now
Hallelujah, let that bass line move ya, say yeah
It’s good to be alive right about now

Good, good, good, good to be alive right about now
Good, good, good, good to be alive right about now
Good, good, good, good to be alive right about now
Good, good, good, good to be alive right about now

Supportive Bloggers, 3rd and Final(ish) Poem

So far I’ve only covered a few,

In my supportive blogger poems One and Two.

Today I’m finishing up with so many praises to sing,

Pay close attention you don’t wanna’ miss a thing.

There are so many more and I can’t go on forever,

So if I miss you, I’m sorry, for I’m really squeezing this together!

Cayman Drinks Well With Others, he’s one of a kind,

It’s great to find bloggers with such like mind.

Kristi’s blog is mighty fine,

She loves great books, YA and Wine.

If you want well rounded books then check this out,

Maria’s Library has what you want, of that there’s no doubt.

Pirate Patty is such a delight,

When it comes to Books Books and More Books shes always right!

Giorgiana is a book expert with reviews galore,

Awesome Books Today offers so much more.

Cherylann’s a big supporter and in book world she thrives,

I love every promo and tittle over at Book Addict Live.

Love Books Group is full of fun,

There’s something there for everyone.

Eccentric Muse is sweet, wholesome, and pure,

Covering everything inspiring and sure.

Brickley Jules could be the most supportive of all,

With every single reblog, head-over-heels I fall.

TizziMatic is insanely funny,

Every time I visit this page my day seems more sunny.

Charles French is a master mind,

The best of everything scary, on his blog you will find.

Saving the best for last is what I do best,

By The Mighty Mumford is more loving than most of the rest.

Thank you dear bloggers for reading my crap,

You’ve all turned me into a cry baby sap.

I know that there’s more, and I can’t get every one,

But writing these poems have been oh so much fun.

For those that I’ve somehow managed to skip over.

I’ll do this again someday, and I promise to look closer.


Supportive Bloggers, 2nd Poem

I’ve created a beast now it’s time to keep feeding it,

As the first bloggers poem I wrote is still getting hits.

With a hundred fifty views and counting my gratitude grows,

If you could see my face for real, I’m confident it shows.

I’ll start with Jo-Ann and her love of creativity,

She’s positive, uplifting, and so great to me!

Our shared love of books makes me sniffle and sigh,

If you look for well rounded you’ll find it at Inspiration Pie.

Stephanie has the most impeccable liking,

If there is a great YA book out there, she’ll hunt it down like a Viking.

The adventure in this blog is jam packed, a precious vault,

To find a young readers quality, stick with Teacher Of YA.

I can’t go on any farther without throwing Danny in,

If you’re one of his thousands of followers then you’re in for the win.

His posts are inspirational and so very supportive,

If you want a touch of the heart then go now to Dream Big.

I have one more today and Susan is her name,

Or you can call her the twitter dominator, its all the same.

To find the best book reviews, you can never go wrong,

By checking first at Books From Dusk Till Dawn.

The scratching of surface has still only just begun,

Hang tight for poem three, more praises will be sung.

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