Melissa Rose Boisclair

I've been bummed guys.  For some reason I've been hating myself so much for the past few months. I have pimples on my hips because of how often I pinch them. If that's not enough I've judged every interaction with the people nearest me, wondering if I'm a selfish, mean, bitter person and unwilling to face it.   I often talk to strangers. Mostly during the warmer months when I'm riding around on my bike. Sometimes  they get this look in their eyes, or a tone in their voice. I get the feeling they see something great in me. It made me sad. I felt like I was lying to them somehow.  Notice I'm using past tense. You are who you are. You can wear a mask, but underneath you are who you are. I get so worried about what other people think of me. Specifically if people think I'm cruel, or selfish, or stupid. When I felt people thought that way about me, I'd go over all my interactions. Once, by, one, and ask myself if there was a part of m...

For what seemed like a very long time, there was a growing trend in the art world. Pain. Heartache. Loss. All these emotions, and the events that cause them,were the inspiration for poetry, short stories and novels alike. We use art to express ourselves, and to heal. But is it healing if you express it without letting it go? Art is life. Life is pain, but life is love as well. Yet time in again, I read the published works of aspiring authors and poets, and what I see is heavy words and heavy hearts. There is beauty in your suffering, but isn't that beauty found in your triumph  rather than the suffering itself? (Though I suppose the entire process of pain, illumination and growth, is stunning.) No matter who you are, no matter if you live in a mansion, or the doorway to a boarded up building on the side of the street, we all have hardships. It's from these hardships that we learn, and grow. But it seems like people get stuck in the middle of the metamorphosis. They reach t...

Imagine this: You stand at the gate to your next life, wondering what lessons it should encompass. And then, you have it. The entirety of the first quarter of your life, you'll be conditioned into a quiet individual who wants nothing more than to be a shadow cast from the brilliant light of all those around you. Then, when your set in your ways, you come to realize that's not the person you want to be Not only that, but you've reached the age where society dictates you won't be able to change. And, by some illuminating occurrence, you recognize that society was wrong. Through all the pains and woes of childhood, you've come now to a time where you have the opportunity to re-create your entire identity. How incredible is that? To wake up one morning and realize the person you've always wanted to be is not only on the other side of a rope bridge, but reaching out to you as urgently as you reach for them? Take some time to imagine that for me.  And then realize t...

I've been away for a while, (and not as dedicated to agent searching as I should be.) I've been working like crazy to save enough money for my move to Amherst MA at the end of the month. Over all I'm excited, (and a little nervous) but there's been a lot of questions about why. Why am I leaving? What's the point? Are you going to school? The answer to all of that is, why not? I've been living where I am for years and years. I have two jobs, I work all the time, but my financial situation is stable. I need to go. There's no logical explanation. It's all a matter of heart and soul. I feel like I'm a stone sculpture eroding away, and if I were to continue in this state of stasis, I'd loose all touch with life and light. On a much more positive note, Autumn is finally here! In so many ways fall reminds me, to a much greater extent than spring, of new beginning. The season of the phoenix. The colors blaze in the sunlight and fill me with uni...

I'm sitting on a three-legged stool,  twiddling my thumbs as the pendulum swings back and forth,  back and forth.  And the clock ticks and tocks,  ticks and tocks. Time is a funny thing, swinging and swaying with no real rhythm or pattern But we give it one. A pattern, and measure by numbers what's immeasurable. When was the last time you laid in the grass without a blanket? Or climbed a tree in a dress? Do you spend all day outside even if it's raining and cold? Still sitting on the three legged stool, the pendulum swings back and forth, back and forth, counting the seconds  while I twiddle my thumbs.   I've been up to a whole bunch lately, thus my extended absence. For now my sister  Amber has started a blog of her own. Feel free to click on her name and say hello if you have the time. 

So much has happened I don't know where to start. On the surface nothing's changed. It like my soul is mimicking Chinese bamboo.  Once the seed has been planted, you see nothing for five years but little shoots. That's because all the growth takes place underground. Deep below the earth, a labyrinth of a root system is reaching upward and outward. Then, at the end of the fifth year, it shoots up to a height of eighty-two feet! For years and years nothing's been changing on the surface of my life. I work the same two jobs day after day, wear the same smile, speak the same words, but all the while the seas within me were turbulent and dangerous. I, on a raft held together with frayed rope.  Chinese bamboo. All the work took place deep underground, all these roots reaching outward and upward, waiting for the day they would breech the cracks in the dirt and dare to stretch for the great blue sky. After seven some odd years of living in a place that was slowly killing ...

It's been a while.  I've done so much, changed so much, decided so much in such a short time it astounds me. I won't go into it all. (does this make me a lazy author?) But most of the turmoil I've felt for the past year and a half is beginning to ebb, and quiet. I still have restless nights, but it's more from the heat, and intense creative waves then anything. I still get down on myself, but the lows are much higher then they used to be. (Think silently screaming on the floor.)  I've sent my query letter out to my first agent, along with a sample chapter. I've decided I'm moving to MA. and, little by little, I'm starting to understand exactly what it is I want out of this life. I want a group of intelligent, open minded friends that compliment my personality, and who I don't need to filter myself around. I want a spiritual teacher. I want to travel all over the world, not like a tourist, but an explorer with a few dusty possessions and a ...