Thanks...

The writing game has taken me places I never intended to go…
And it’s taken me places I never left…
Fifteen months ago when I plunked down my money…
I thought I would write a cute little book…
My friends and family and I would laugh about it…
Then my life would go back to normal…
I would have proven to myself…
I could write, if only a little bit…
What I didn’t know is that my words would touch people…

After my first book, I thought I would never write again…
I got from okay to great reviews…
I knew though…
I could have written a technically better book…and a few people made sure they told me…
Good thing, I don't fold easily....damn
But I also knew I could not have written one that was more from my heart…
For some reason that book has resonated with people in a way I couldn’t have imagined…
Now fifteen months later…
My baby is selling…
Better than it ever sold before…
Flaws and all…

I just want to give thanks to all who love what I do…
In whatever way I do it…
Those book clubs that continue to ask me to show up…
The girl in Wal-mart…
Who cried when she met me…
The people at work…
Who thought they knew me…
And seemed to appreciate the real me once they did…
The brothers who felt honored…cause according to them I write “The Realist Sh..”
And my family, my man, my sons…
Who never let me say never…
Just encouraged me to keep on doing…
What I was doing…
Baby…
Thanks all…
Love and Blessings
acVernon Menchan….Angelia….Baby….Mama…sister…friend…
you know who I am to you!!!

Letting Go...

Letting go of your children… particularly our sons…is one of the hardest things in the world to do…
But let go we must…
My youngest made a decision about his future…he is twenty-one years old…
He knew it was time to be man…
He didn’t ask me…
Or his dad…
He handled his business…
Then TOLD us, when it was a fait accompli…
I had never been prouder in my life…
I knew that my husband and I had raised a man…

Black Mothers…
We are going to have to learn to let these boys go…
Allow them to make mistakes…
And decisions on their own…
If we want to turn this cycle around…
Of raising our daughters…
And spoiling our sons…
We had better start now…
They need us to allow them to fail…
To stand on their own two feet…
Otherwise…
The true emasculation of Black Men…
Just might end up being…
On the backs of Black Mothers…
Love them…
Be there for them…
But allow them to grow up…
Out…
Away from us…
Please…
They need that…
And…
So do we…

Love, Blessings, and Peace…

AcVernon Menchan

Honesty

Honesty…
The word that covers a multitude of sins…
We all say we want it…
But do we really?
If the truth will set us free…
We had better be free to hear it…
I honestly (he he) believe that what kills so many relationships…
Is the lack of honesty…

How does a man answer this question?
“Honey am I fat?”
Or a woman answer this one?
“Was it as good for you as it was for me?”
We would all say, with honesty…and truth...
But would we really be honest…or just fake the funk…
Would he say…
“No, baby I love you…just the way you are.” While thinking,
“I sure do love you, God knows I do, but you were more appealing to me when you weighed less…”
Would she say…
“Ohhh yeah, it was even better for me.” While thinking,
“Damn, I was almost there, if only I had a few more minutes…”
Based on what I have seen and been told, most of us would take the politically correct route…
Saying what we think our partners want to hear…
While covering up how we really feel…
Unfortunately what this does is cause internal resentment…
That manifests itself in failed communications…broken relationships...faking the funk...
Many people end up in divorce court…
Unsure why…
Many times, it’s because we have not articulated our feelings, honestly…
We are so exhausted from pretending we are pleased with what…
Displeases us…
The trick is learning how to ‘speak truth’…
With love, compassion and integrity…
Getting what we need from the people we love…
And who love us…
Without leaving them devastated…
It’s not easy…it takes work…lots of work…damn it's hard...
But it’s certainly worth it…
To get what we need…to provide what’s needed…
Honestly…

acVernon Menchan...angelia

Stereotype Busters...

I am a tired sister today…
I would like to think it’s because I work a job…
Write books…
Handle myself as a wife and mother…
But today that ain’t it…
This morning I was reading an article about…
The image of Black folks in this country…
And it was downright exhausting…
I know so many hardworking, business handling brothers and sisters…
Who aren’t deemed as newsworthy…
But unfortunately... I have come into contact with the newsworthy…
The stereotypes that continue to make the news…
What are we going to do?

How does one overcome stereotypes?
Or does one, ever overcome them?

For most of my life, I have been cast in the role of ‘Stereotype Buster’…
Hearing, you are different than most…
Blacks…
Women…
Tall people...
I have always become incensed and defensive when I heard those remarks…
Today... I am simply tired…

I can remember the first time I knew I was in a role…it was in ninth grade English…
My teacher, Mrs. Weaver walked to me with a copy of Richard Wright’s Native Son in one hand…Khalil Gibran’s The Prophet in the other.
“Angelia, I am giving you these. I know you will enjoy them. You read so well for a Black student. I would never give these to my other Black students.”
The hair stood up on my neck, tears stood in my eyes. I replied respectfully but firmly…
“Mrs. Weaver thanks for thinking of me, but I read those in sixth grade. And I read well…period.”
She looked at me with shock and just a bit of respect on her face.
Some thirty-six years have passed since that date but the same thing still occurs…
People are now more subtle…now I hear…
You are so different…
Never met anyone quite like you…
Sheeesh…
I am really rambling today…
But I am so tired…because every stereotype…like every rumor…starts with a bit of truth…
I guess our world will still need “Stereotype Busters’…I sure do wish it didn’t …

So I am going to rest up a bit…
Eat a few squares of chocolate…
Pop some caffeine…
And get back to work…
Just remember this…
I don’t mind being a soldier…
In the trenches for the cause...
Just jump in the fox-hole with a sista…there are a lot of us in there…
But, there is plenty of room for a bunch more…
acVernon Menchan

Black Enough?

I wish someone would please explain to me what ‘Black Enough’ means…
Lately I have heard this bandied about in regards to Barack Obama…
Our first Black presidential candidate in years…
I am so confused by this…
I guess it would make sense if it were because of his lineage…
Having a Caucasian mother, but it doesn’t seem to be that…
His grasp of the English language…
His ability to show a love for education…
Family values…
Seems to be the things that make the brother…
Not ‘Black Enough’…
I hope to hell not…
Because those kinds of things…
Transcend color…
Or they should…
I can remember being a little Negro girl…growing up in…
Ocala, Florida…
I loved to read…write and could talk my butt off…and talk well…
I had been educated by family members and teachers…
Who taught me to speak properly…
Lord, the mess I heard…
“Stuck Up”
“Acting White”
“Proper Talking”…
Even as a child I didn’t listen to that mess…
I saw my penny brown face…in the mirror…
Looked around my hood and saw nothing but black faces…
I was as Black as anyone else…
Please…
Somebody better hurry up and tell me what ‘Black Enough’ is…
Otherwise, leave it alone…
Black is and should be as diverse as anything else…
Isn’t it and shouldn’t it be???

Angelia, acVernon Menchan

When does sexy end ?

Somebody needs to tell me when sexy ends…
Embracing five decades I ain’t feeling like having it end…
Not at all…damn that…
What brings this to mind is my latest book is coming out next month,
Cinnamon’s Universe…
Cinnamon is fifty and as sexy, sassy and soulful as she wants to be…
With two men…yup two…
Falling all over themselves and each other trying to please her…fine, got it going on, handling their business, sexy men…Please Cinnamon, Please kind of men…
About a year ago when I started writing her, one advance reader said…
“This isn’t realistic, she’s too old to be sexy, she should be mentoring or something like that…”
Did I say “Damn that”…
No one bothered to tell me or the women in my life that sexy ends…
Now I am not talking hootchie-mama sexy, I am talking lovely, grounded, in charge of our own sexuality and not settling for any old thang sexy…children grown, and gone, money in the bank sexy…thick-bodied and proud of it sexy…ya feel me…
And no one told our men we weren’t sexy either…
Please Believe…
We have nothing to prove to anyone…
We are living…
Loving…
Laughing…
Being sexy…
I am never quite sure who my audience is or who I am trying to reach…
I don’t attach much importance to fitting in a slot…’
But if I accidentally…
By chance...
Become the writer who refuses to let sexy leave…regardless of age…
Then so be it…
That’s who I’ll be…

acVernon Menchan

Writing When It's Time...

I am writing in my own time...
What does that mean?
It means it's time for me to write...
Through the years when I would return to my hometown someone who'd not seen me for years would inevitably ask...
"Are you a writer?" They had seen me with a book in my hand since age four, and a notebook under my arm since second grade...
My answer would be..
"No I am a counselor, manager, etc"...whatever new and challenging thing I had undertaken...
Once I become a "Real Writer"...no one was surprised...
Well maybe I was, but only for a hot minute...
But now that "Writer Woman has been unleashed,
I will write or die, guess that makes me a "Write or Die Chick"...he he
Nothing will stop me...
Not wars, or rumors of wars...
Not bad reviews or rumors of bad reviews...
Not even low sales...
Not a damn thang, ya'll, nothing...
So listen up world...it is time for a sista to write...
And Write she will...

acVernon Menchan...Second Husband Scene IV will return in a couple of days...