I had planned to blog about writing today but changed my mind…sort of. I am still talking about writing. Just not exclusively mine.

Over the years my mind and heart have started understanding my parents. Both passed away long before I was able to sit down and visit adult to adult. We had a tough childhood, and though I never stopped loving them, I was angry for many years. I wrote my heart out, my anger out, and my pain out. As I got older, I learned to forgive them, but that isn’t where it ends.

One day I received a folder from my sister that contained many of my mother’s poems. I knew my mother wrote poetry but had not seen them until that day. I sat down on the couch and began to read her heart, mind, and soul in those pages. I saw my father as a man my mother loved so deeply.

Through every tear I shed, I began to understand her not as my parent, but as a person. It was if I had stepped outside the box and was watching her life unfold…completely disconnected. With this view, I changed my perspective. I cried for my parents, and for me, but I also learned to love them more. I felt their hearts through my discovery.

I was able to capture who she was through her words. Now looking back at a young woman, divorced, 36 years old with six little girls attached to her…I felt her fear. I was able to see her for the life she had, not the life she should have had…and I felt her broken heart through my discovery.

It is knowing my parent’s story that helped see them as individuals. It was reading my mother’s writings that taught me a part of her I hadn’t been able to see before…I was clouded by my own needs, my own anger, my own sadness.

If nothing else, here is what I hope you get from this blog – to look at your parents. Now step away and really look at them. See them as the person they are, not who they are to you, but who they are to themselves. How did they become the person they are today? If they are no longer living, still do this. Then write about them…write their story.

“Watching Over Her” is hot off the press. This is our story…a story of love, pain, death, and renewed life. Including paranormal activity.

I have a few copies if you want to purchase a signed copy, or you’ll find the link below to purchase your copy from Amazon.

Here is the link to purchase your copy on Amazon –

I thought long and hard about putting this blog out. I am not here to offend, but to speak my mind as honestly as I can because I usually rally around women’s beliefs. I am, after all, a woman with a strong voice. However, I am not only sad but disappointed that all many of our children learned from their mother’s over the past couple of days was to hate. To not respect authority, especially the President of the United States of America. To show violence is the answer. To dismiss uniting as a whole country, and to keep division a motivator for more hate. This is not to say I am without sin, I’m far from perfect, but this time in our history has opened my eyes…and has brought tears.

There have been many Presidents I have voted for that did not make office, so I have felt the disappointment of my candidate losing. But I did not take my disappointment and turn it into anger and hate, violence and disrespect. Instead, I turned my attention to what could be, what would be, and what might be the success of the candidate I opposed. Why? Because it is my honor to support the most powerful authoritative figure for this country. I was taught as a child to respect authority. I was taught as a child to forgive and look past prior mistakes someone makes in an effort to give them the chance they deserve. I was taught love is more powerful than hate.

I watched people dressed in black, even their faces masked, destroying public property and running like the cowards they are to the next building or garbage can to destroy under their hate. I watched children carried on their parent’s shoulders with signs they were likely too young to understand the meaning of…but they felt their parents hate so they carried them proudly. I understand everyone has a voice and a right to speak their minds. But how these protests are perceived by myself and others is a form of bullying. Everyone has “special rights” they want to have heard. But isn’t there a better way to do it?

Do I agree with everything the politicians say or do, of course not, I don’t even agree with my husband all the time. But I do my best to try and respect his opinion out of respect for who he is…my husband. And Trump is now my President, so he deserves my respect, and my patience as he proves his ability to make “America Great Again.” The media needs to stop lying, which has been proven, and bring the truth to the people they represent with their information.

During the campaign, I listened as my granddaughter was bullied for her views. I didn’t have to ask where the hate came from, it was obviously a mimic of their parents. We wonder how the children of this world could possibly be filled with so much hate that they bully other students, how they can walk into a school or other public building and shoot other children and adults…well, maybe we should be looking in the mirror. We let our children play video games that promote violence, and then ask them to “be nice” to the neighbor.

Maybe we should ask ourselves what we are teaching our children when we scream at the TV during a campaign speech or call a referee an idiot. Are we teaching tolerance, patience, forgiveness, respect, and love by using our “freedom of speech” as a podium to bash, hate, and disrespect?

Perhaps a bit of soul searching is in order for all of us adults because that is who our children try to mirror. Please remember hate breeds hate, while love breeds love.

United we stand, divided we fall…it’s that simple.

Good morning everyone, I thought while you wait (excitedly I hope) for my new novel Watching Over Her, you might want to check out the project I worked on this past fall. Here is how it all came to be. While in Wisconsin this past spring, my daughter text me about a new business in Edmonds. The business owner was willing to have local artists sell their products on a commission base. I contacted her and told her I would love to bring my books and photography in to see what we could work out. As soon as she heard I was an author she asked if I would be willing to write her memoirs. We agreed to discuss it when I came in.

After meeting with her and talking about her life, I realized her story needed to be told. I admit it was a daunting project to listen to someone’s version, write it in a reader’s format, and not lose the person’s voice, but we both felt it was successfully done. The tough part was the two-month deadline to get this done because it was a Christmas present to her family. Give me a challenge, and I will push myself…and I did. It was delivered on time.

It is a very intriguing short story about what two people did for love…and survival in a foreign country. Hope you will check it out. You can find the link on my website www.cjvermote.com or you can go directly to Amazon to purchase your copy.

As always thanks for reading my ramblings aka blogs. Hope you have a wonderful rest of your week and weekend.

Happy reading…

Every time I type those two words, “The End”…I can’t help but cheer…even though I know the work is about to really start. Now that I have completed my fifth novel, I thought I’d share a bit about the book with you.

Over the past three years I have been working on a book that is reality and fiction…how’s that work, you ask? It’s complicated…but it works. Let’s start with where this idea started from which was with my husband. We were driving cross-country and I noticed livestock out in the cold and snow. My comment “why don’t they bring them into the barn?” was met with, “Oh, they don’t mind. They’re fine.”

Really??? I thought to myself…how does he know? That is when it hit me. Unless we are able to communicate our discomfort, people assume we are fine. Then the light started blinking rapidly and I heard this little voice in my head say, “You need to be Brook’s voice.”

I hope to have this book published by June 2017…maybe sooner. A lot of it depends on the edits that will take place. I am very excited to bring our story to life. To have Brook’s voice brought to life. This book also reveals paranormal activity that filled our lives…and that is the factual reality of this story.

My book, “Watching Over Her” is our story…Brook’s and mine, along with my other two children, and family members. He was a person with a voice, but he couldn’t use it…and life went on around him as if his voice, and he didn’t matter.

I have learned to forgive, I’ve learned to let go of the anger, I have learned to see the situation as it really was. I carried guilt, I carried loss, I carried sadness seasoned with anger…but now the writing of our story has brought more to life…it has brought peace.