Andrea Boyette lives in the heart of the beautiful Rocky Mountains where she indulges in her twin loves of writing and reading when she's not busy exploring the world or doing battle with her Sentient House of Doom.
I’m excited to announce that Noble, my first book, is now available for purchase! Noble is the initial volume in what I intend to be a three-part series. This novel is really special to me, and I hope you’ll be willing to take a chance on it. As writers, it can be difficult to share the fruits of our labor. I think we’re all quite aware of how vulnerable it makes us. However, sharing my writing is the best way I know to explore what it means to be human and connect with others.
Watching paint dry. A phrase invented to describe the most boring activities known to mankind. Thus am I being painfully reminded of the reasons I never do my nails. I have things to do! Important things! Things I was avoiding which is why I painted my nails in the first place! Sadly, I am committed …
In the interest of full disclosure,
I am not a fan of too much exposure.
All that light
Hurts the eyes
I much prefer rainy skies.
My introverted heart rejoices
Finding peace from opinionated voices.
I understand, make no mistake,
But there’s only so much anger I can take.
I feel alone in my desire for joy,
But I earned it and I refuse to let it be destroyed.
It’s a gift I won’t surrender
Unexpected dear companions like falling stars, however brief
Gift awe and reverence
Illuminating the lonely darkness of life
For but a moment.
Grazing hearts before they are gone into the horizon
Skimming that curve of Earth before they disappear.
We, too, shoot across the firmament
Knowing not how we touch the lives of others
Skipping along the atmosphere of those rotating
Leaving longing in our wake
Or maybe you don’t.
So I suffer for my art
Painting with words
As others do in brush strokes.
Using a medium common to all
Seeking an elusive mastery
No perfect equations here despite the many manuals.
That which quickens the mind and touches the heart
Makes friends only when it chooses.
With whom it chooses.
And I become a beggar
Left lonely and abstract
Apologies if anyone was expecting a football analogy, but this is my annual examination of my resolutions for the year. Feel free to come up with your own analogies if you feel disappointed. I’m sure it’s a theme with untold riches for the sports inclined. For the remaining few interested in my vague plans for the new year please continue reading.
This is one of the few consistent posts on my blog. I know resolutions don’t resonate with everyone but I like being able to track my own s
They’ve got axes to grind,
but I’ve given up mine
Those edges worn brittle
Thinned and whittled down with anger
Chipped and Damaged
Swinging not caring who they cut.
Isn’t it enough already?
Double-bladed exchanges full of hate
Each believing they know more of love.
Whet stones shedding sparks
Starting fires the rest of us have to try to put out.
Compromise on something other than your e
The sister of a friend of mine runs a collaborative blog and requested that I contribute a post. I’m reblogging it here. Please check it out!
I hate pumpkin-flavored everything.
I’m just throwing that out there so we understand each other. I don’t really like autumn either.
No hard feelings if you decide not to read any further.
As you can see, I’m very particular about my seasons. Spring has always been my favorite. It’s all about lif
According to my friends and family, my cellphone is the equivalent of a rotary-dial phone wearing eighties-superhero spandex. It gets the job done, so I feel bad retiring it but someday, maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow…but someday, I will be the proud owner of a pretty and powerful Chris Evans-holding-onto-a-helicopter cellphone…which I’ll forget I …
I can’t get off.
I don’t remember anymore how I found myself here.
Still, it spins and spins. The majestic mounts and the mirrors are all as familiar to me as the thoughts that plague me day after day.
Why am I here?
That is the question I ask myself the most, but it’s not the most painful question.
Will I always be alone?
Ah, yes. That’s the one. I don’t think about it much anymore. That’s what I tell myself anyway, as I watch the people as I s