DT Martin Blog

  Morning spills through the blinds and warms my skin. From the kitchen, coffee rises with citrus and smoke, eggs whisper in the pan, butter edges the air. A riff of heavy metal rolls from the speaker—drums like weather, guitars bright as sparks. My breath steadies. I wait for words. 

     The kitchen wakes warm, a little river of sunlight running through steam from the kettle. I stand on the blue rim of the window and taste sugar in the air, bright and granular. A round face on the far wall winks metal lashes—tick, tick—and every wink sends a small ripple through my wings.      “Who blinks over there?” I ask.      “I keep measure,” says the Clock, voice crisp, a ruler made of teeth.      “Measure of what?”      “Your path,” it answers, “through everything.”      Everything smells of toast, varnish, and lavender soap. The floor holds the weight of a table and four chairs; the ceiling holds a lamp that hums. Between them hangs air for flying and learning, so I lift and stitch a zigzag through the room. My wings beat: one-two-three-five-eight. Counting settles my small body into order.      “Faster,” whispers the Fan from the ceiling, starting its slow revolution. “...

  A Wonderful Gift I was given this wonderful picture from a good friend! I love it!!! Oh, and I just finished book 2!!! I'm working on edits, and the audio book will be out soon! Well, she is working on the ending edits. I can't wait for everyone to hear her beautiful voice! 

  Mood Board for WTLB

  Change the World means changing yourself. My friends, do not ask me what your sacrifice was for. If we stood together—if all we had was each other—we could change the world. My friends, we are equals in G-d’s embrace. Let us not destroy what we share for the sake of greed and hate. See one another truly: we are all beloved by G-d. Our mission is to lift each other up. We are more than wealth, more than envy. We are love. We are freedom. We will only survive if we remember that love is what surrounds us. Your G-d is reflected in the faces of those you hold dear. (if you don't believe in G-d then change the word, the meaning is still there!)

  Where the Music Waits I shine a light into the dark and the stars scatter like seeds, blooming across the night sky. Each one flickers like a memory I almost recognize—too distant to name, too bright to forget. I drift between lives, between skins, searching for a vessel strong enough to hold what still beats inside me. The music never lands. It hovers—fragmented chords, half-formed longing. Every note I chase dissolves before I can breathe it in. The road unravels beneath my feet, worn by every version of myself I’ve been. My bones remember the weight. My shadow stumbles, carrying ghosts I didn’t choose. The hardest part isn’t where I’m going. It’s the smoke of where I’ve burned. Even when I lift the night like a veil, the darkness behind it remains—thicker, older. The ache in my chest echoes louder than my footsteps. I reach for breath, but only silence fills my lungs. Words crumble before they reach the air. Grief presses down like ash. Sometimes I wonder if the path ever shif...

My Grandson! Original posted May 1, 2025 My little girl—though she’s not so little anymore—is having a baby. Today, I found out he’s going to be a boy! Watch out, world. He’ll carry both his mother’s spirit and mine. Fierce, loving, and so very kind. He will know love, and I hope only the smallest touch of heartbreak to help him grow strong. He will be beautiful, inside and out. He will be my family. And for him—for his mother and father—I will write my books. I may not know you yet, little one, but I already know I love you.  

  Created this for a friend who came across a woman he admires Life was beautiful, but I was so terribly alone. Above the clouds, I soared, the sky cradling me in its endless embrace. I loved the wind, the breath of the world against my wings, and I loved the life that carried me higher still. My wings brushed the heavens, and I cried into the wind, feeling the aching space between them — a space too wide, too silent, too empty. Something was missing; I could feel it humming beneath my skin, though I did not yet understand it. I longed to share the sky, to feel another soul moving beside mine, to close the lonely space that sang its sorrow between my wings. Yet fear clung to me, whispering doubts I could not silence. How could I give my heart away when it had learned so well to ache alone? I drifted through fleeting connections, one after another, searching for a soul who could see me — not the wings or the flight, but the sorrow hidden deep inside. Every failed bond, every broke...

DT as a Nut!  Today I'm a NUT Ever listen to Pink Floyd's song "Time"? The ticking, ticking, ticking of the clocks just waiting to get to the good part. Get to the melody and lyrics that move you to want to dance, or sing? I feel sometimes my book is like that song. Got to get past the parts, the first few chapters, to get to the melody, the part that makes your soul reach for more. Perhaps I'm wrong and the first part of this story people like? How can anyone judge the passion I have for these creatures in 10 minutes? WHY CAN'T I FIND AN AGENT????????? It's hard. It's like trying to find a job but everyone is too busy to even look at what you have to offer...

  What is Different? Sure, life isn’t the same when you’re older. It moves like water—always shifting, never quite the same from one moment to the next—and maybe that’s what makes it worth living: the movement, the growth, the chance to understand. Thinking you can return to a better time is a comforting lie, but the truth is, you can’t. The moment you’re in is the only one that’s real, the only one that can be shaped. And yeah, it’s not easy, especially when you look behind and whisper, “Hey… I want what I had.” But that time is gone. You’re not the same person you were, and you never will be again—and maybe that’s okay. That’s what I keep telling myself: not to look back, not to drag the pain of the past into the light of my future. When I leave this existence, I want my sins, my mistakes, and the hurt I’ve carried to stay behind while I move forward toward whatever comes next. Will it happen? Maybe. And maybe—just maybe—I’ll be forgiven, by my family, my friends… and, most of a...

  Got a Thought

  My Big Brother! I love you big Brother!!

  What do Agents Do Anyway? 17/72 Rejections - This isn't going to well for me... I've been looking for an agent for my book. I know it's a dream and this story is so important to me that I cry at night wanting to tell it to the world! I've been rejected again and again. I get it, my story doesn't appeal to them. With the world falling apart under my feet I wanted one last try to reach out and live.