Category Archives: Faith

Why this name?

I’ve answered this question a few times. Yes, I know, my name is odd; to have chosen such a name is a curiosity. In a world where the current operating system dictates we only spew positivity, and are not allowed to share our pain and suffering without being preached at about living in the half-full, I chose a name that would make most cringe. With it, brings a raft of implications, and even though the spelling is creative, it is still a label of anguish.

Back in 2008 I was almost thriving. My horse training and teaching business had weathered much, and I was finally making a living. It was a hard life, and a lot of work, but I’d been at it for nearly 25 years, and finally my passion surrounding horses, was paying for itself. I had a barn full of mine, and client’s horses and enough drive-in lessons and training that I finally felt as if I’d made it.

I live rural, in a stunning part of California. The summers are cool and rarely reach 80F. The winters are temperate and rainy and it never snows! I leased a horse facility near me with 10 stalls and an indoor arena. I needed the indoor for our winters. It was across the road from miles of trails and just a short haul up to the show grounds for variety. I also live only 5 minutes away.

Even though I’d been there for 20 years, and I thought the owner and I had a solid foundation between us, she changed her mind, and restructured the lease to the point I couldn’t afford to stay. There was no other place for me to go. I explored every option at my disposal, even moving from the only place I adored living and where all my family and husband also dwelt. I would have moved, and taken all my horses with me, if I could have found something.

In the end, I was forced to give everything up, even all my horses. Even my 13YO superhorse who I’d had since he was a yearling. All of it, gone with no hope of retrieval. I collapsed and had a massive breakdown. I’d lost everything, including my cemented adult identity. I tried to commit suicide, and obviously failed at that too.

At this point in time, I wasn’t a writer or author. I’d always told stories, and written for myself, but in an extremely limited capacity. I also didn’t have the academic learning to back up any sort of writing aspirations. But I had to do something and I couldn’t afford a therapist, so I began putting it all into words.

I hurt. I ached. Everything in me was in severe pain, and it wasn’t physical, it all stemmed from the emotional. I was in a mire of depression so deep I saw no way out. Even though my faith game is incredibly strong, and I was begging for illumination, no answers were presented. So, I began a story about a lost soul who needed a miraculous rescue. Her name was, Payne.

Before this episode, I’d never had much depression, and I’d dealt with all my physical pain easily. I had multiple injuries over the years, and nothing slowed me down, but now, the inner anguish was radiating, and my entire life, my body, my emotions, my soul, all of me was in utter, and devastating pain. My outlook on life wasn’t much different. I still wished for death every day for well over a year. But I wrote, and I wrote, and I kept writing her story. In the beginning, she was me, but as it evolved, I became her, and together we began to heal.

I adopted her name as it became clear I had a book on my hands and I needed a pen name. I was no longer the horseygirl of my past and I’d severed all connections to that old life. I had only 2 people who cared if I lived or died, and they are the only 2 who still use my birthname. Now days, 7 years later, I am known as Payne.

Much has happened and much has changed in my life and inside me over the past 7 years. Oddly, I’m still not that excited about being alive and I often pray to be taken at the earliest possible age. I’m not suicidal, I’m just tired. This system and this program doesn’t work for me. Nothing about how other humans operate, works for who I’ve evolved into.

I’m persevering however, and my life is very full. I’m embracing the distraction of, ‘busy’, and spout the company line whenever I can muster a fake smile. I’m no longer in pain, but my soul is still alone and my soul is still, Payne.

My blog feed goes back to the beginning of my journey as an author and poet. You can find a link to it on my webpage, along with millions of words and multiple pages of my personal reflections and writings, here:  www.paynehawthorne.com

All my fictional work is up in novel form, in both print and digital on Amazon, here: Payne Hawthorne on Amazon

I wrote a lot for 5 years and I learned as I went. I have 12 novels to my name now, all of which I am quite proud of. All but one is fiction. Just this year, 2017, I released my first memoir which included two poetry collections. This title is autobiographical and about a young man I feel deeply in love with, but we couldn’t make it work.
Look for it here: Peeing with the door open; Not a love story

That first book I wrote, where Payne is the heroine, is now a series and still my favorite. Someday I’ll manage to finish the third book in that series. Look for it under the name;
AdventuresinPayne Remnant, (book I)
AdventuresinPayne Discovery, (book II)

Back in late 2015 I was forced to stop writing and start earning a living again. My time was up, and nothing was bringing in enough, (any), money to live on. I’d given myself 5 years to show I could at least generate a grand a month from my writing. That didn’t happen, even though I produced so many great titles. I tried a go-fund-me page, thinking all the ‘fans’ I’d gathered and the ones who’d received all my work for free, might donate to my cause so I could finish some of my series.

Instead of them rallying behind me, I was maligned for asking. I was told I should work, and still write, and nobody would help me. I ended up with the nick-name, “Funder-Cunt.” This story has more to it, but that was it for me. I already didn’t have much fight left, so I walked away, and I stopped writing novels.

Since then, I’ve written a lot of poetry and short stuff. I also wrote my memoir when that love affair ended and my heart was once again shattered.

Now days, everything I write is all real, all non-fiction, all my inner truth, and all of it is heartbreakingly ME, Payne.

I’ve risen out of my pile of ashes a few times. Now days, I find comfort in being alone and living as a servant to others. I don’t have much of a life apart from my work, and even now, finding time to write anything of meaning is not very high on my list. What I do write, I post for free on all my social media sites, and for sure on my Pinterest boards or my website.

It means a lot to me to hear if my words resonate with others. It doesn’t happen very often, but when it does, it comforts my lonely heart. Thank you for reading me.

Payne

The Storm Inside

At night, when a storm is raging outside, we lay and listen. We try to sleep, but the kinetic energy in inclement weather usually prohibits rest. We hear snaps and cracks and flapping tarps, wondering what’s getting destroyed, or merely sounding as if.

Sometimes the worst destruction is a surprise, something you never heard. It’s the silent, slow letting down of a big tree freeing its roots from wet soil. Or the fence that blew over and smashed the roses. Not till dawn can you take inventory. Even then, what can you do but shake your tiny fist at mother nature and curse a god you don’t really believe in. We have no say when she decides to strike, and so we don’t take it personally. We simply rebuild stronger the next time, or demolish what was there so it can never be hurt again.

Sometimes we become so hardened and immune, we sleep right through the worst of it. The world has a temper tantrum, and we are safe in our dreams, blocking the reality of what we will wake to when the sun once again shines.

We take for granted we will be there to see the next sunrise and we take for granted it will.

We logic our way through the devastation around us, smiling as if we are fine. What is our alternative? What choice do we have? We can shake our heads at the other’s perceptions, discarding it as hitting them harder, or we can be thankful it didn’t hit us as hard as it did them. Either way, we are competing over even that, the destruction and anarchy and who fared better, when all along, we are all just roses next to a weak fence.  ~Payne Hawthorne

Christmas Morning (Poetry)

Christmas morning

The tall cliffs protect as the ocean beats and flings itself haphazardly against the rocks below. The pillows of fluffy white deceive and the tendrils of rainbows forecast the promise of a sunny day. The veil of sea mist paints the air with tiny frolicking faeries.

I stand tall and still, and soak in the majesty. The mist soaks my cheeks and bleeds into my hair. The roar of the sea quiets my soul.

Sometimes the silence inside awakens when you are most still.

The air is icy and bites. It feels good to be touched. My skin rejoices as my heart is filled. Don’t move, don’t allow distractions. Soak. Absorb. Marinate. Remain still.

All around you is anarchy; disobedient water obeys no master. Headlands jut as time erodes. One cannot contain forever. Crevices give way as water cleanses.

My heart beats and my lungs billow behind my ribs. I remain quiet. My pulse quickens as waves roll and surge. The ground beneath my feet vibrates as water insists, attempting to claim me, reaching ever skyward.

I close my eyes and listen. Amidst the chaos, there is intense peace, a belonging to something deeper and bigger. The lighthouse winks as I once again allow sight to overtake. The rainbow tendrils dance like ribbons of butterfly wings.

~Payne Hawthorne

Mark Scheffer Photography
Mark Scheffer Photography

Photography by: Mark Scheffer

News and Links

All my titles for Kindle/digital format are here: Amazon Author Page (most of my titles are free on Kindle Unlimited too).

I’ve added a new storefront for all my titles in print with personalization and autograph options.

House of Payne Publishing

House Of Payne Publishing_Final_72 (2)

And some new PROMOTIONAL ITEMS like mugs and book cover necklace charms.

I’ve been adding some short blogs and flash fiction as individual pages. Don’t miss, “Blue Tributary,” flash fiction BDSM erotic piece.

My newest page will be dedicated to my struggles with depression. Its called, “The Depression Files.” (also find link in menu)

I also keep an actual blog here: ADVENTURESINPAYNE

New Release May 31st!

This is the first book I wrote, over four years ago. It’s since been changed, revised, and edited many times in the last few years. I think/hope its fantastic now!

Its up on Kindle for Pre-order http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00UNRHEKY

http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00UNRHEKY
http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00UNRHEKY
Teaser from Remnant
Teaser from Remnant

 

AdventuresinPayne, REMNANT
AdventuresinPayne, REMNANT
http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00UNRHEKY
Teaser from Remnant
http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00UNRHEKY
http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00UNRHEKY

Revealed from Stone

 

carvedfrommarble

REVEALED FROM STONE

Yet Another Year.

It’s been an odd year. Few ups, few downs, nothing new really. Apart from the broken, (severely broken), ankle, which is healing, there is nothing momentous about the year I just burned away like it was only a few weeks. Yet, here I sit, again wondering about the year behind me and my growth during that time.

To understand me better in the now, I must digress and tell you a bit about who I am, and what got me to here. I’ve spent my entire life, from as far back as my earliest memories, wanting, craving, searching and wishing for—love. And as a sidebar, I’ve found little bits and pieces of—love—throughout my life. Don’t get me wrong, I’ve looked for and attracted it everywhere I can find it. Mostly I’ve sated my craving to love, through my animals, (motherly), since I never had kids, (I didn’t want to be weighed down with children when my great love appeared).

What’s eluded me, and what I will go to my grave aching to feel, is that all encompassing—bordering on insane—kind of love where I can devote and submit all of myself to one other person. Only one! To belong to them and them to me—yes I used that word—BELONG! I know what you’re thinking—don’t categorize me as a bunny boiler just yet.  What I want—but refuse to fabricate or force—is to find and be permitted to dwell with the one meant for me.  The one who wishes to consume all of me—I’m willing to give that much—I’m capable of giving that much!

Funny thing is, in my search for—the one—I’ve tried on a few; more than a few. None were quite right. I even married, and we are great/best friends to this day, but even he will admit we never had that kind of love.  I’ve seen others find that kind of love—first hand! It wasn’t always a Disney movie either—lots of hard times and angst along the way—but the love, the relationship and the other person were always the most important ingredients. That is what I want! (Please note I used WANT, not, NEED. I’ve made it this far and I can finish just fine without.)

When I was seven I walked forward at a tent revival and gave my heart to Jesus. I was born again before I was ten. I reconfirmed that faith again in my twenties when I was baptized in the ocean by a traveling preacher. I walked forward again in my mid-thirties at a huge convention with Joyce Meyers. My faith has been tested, but I’ve never once faltered in my devotion and submission to, THEIR, will in my life. Here is where I must clarify that I am not a church going, pew sitting–Christian. In fact, I’ve only been in a church a handful of times.

I am my own minister, believer, and the most spiritual Jesus freak you will ever meet.  Although, if you meet me, you would never know this fact because I don’t talk about it. The reason I don’t talk about it has nothing to do with shame or embarrassment. Neither of which I hardly ever feel—in any situation. The reason I don’t talk about it is because most of the people I am around, vehemently hate Christians. The reason they do, is because other Christians fervently judge, shame and then try and save the ones that are a bit different—like me—I don’t need to be turned or saved from their perception of my sinful ways.

I also have no agenda to save another’s soul. It’s theirs, not mine, and I don’t care if they go to the same heaven I do, or not. I guess that is where I diverge from the flock of do-gooders. There are very few do-good-anything, bones in my body.  This life is for me to learn whatever the fuck I need to learn, and move on. Get out of the cyclical, program ruled, breeders and workers, universal mindset of this planet—I call them the, Blue Pills. I want out and off. My goal this lifetime is to fastrack this process and get these lessons learned post haste.

Of course, by declaring that agenda to my helpers and angels, I’ve set out the gauntlet, and it isn’t always pretty rainbows and blessings.  Often it is painfully learned lessons, or numerous heartbreaks that never quite heal. I struggle with coldness, numbness, apathy, dullness, depression and cynicism. None of which would be welcomed in the heaven I seek to enter. Sometimes the breaking and wrenching needed for me to feel anything deeply, is exactly—breaking and wrenching—and it fucking hurts throughout my mind, body and soul.

It often feels as if who I am—who I am becoming—is being revealed and carved from solid marble. I need to soften. I need to have less brace. I need to be open and grateful.

So, back to this quest to find love. Which, sadly I’ve about given up on. At least to the capacity I’d once hoped for. Maybe it wasn’t meant for me this lifetime, or maybe I screwed up somewhere along the line and totally blew it.  But it’s never been gifted to me. I do have some wonderful people in my life at present, one man I adore, but only from afar, and I’ve come to realize it might be too late for us.  By my age everyone has lives, families, kids, jobs, careers, duties. They are entrenched in their life. I am the odd one out. I am free at present—free, but alone. So, whatever I get, I get it in a limited capacity, and that will not change. I often wonder if I should settle, and be happy for part of the dream, or do I dare still hope for that one elusive person to whom I could submit to as fully as I have to Jesus?

Since I write about, and am drawn to the world of Dominants and Submissives—BDSM—and I am a bit of a masochist who craves her dominant, I’ve done quite a bit of research. And I’ve learned a lot about myself in the process.  Turns out, what I crave isn’t unheard of in that world, and often, it is more the norm. It’s an obsessive kind of love that I suppose some would call co-dependent.  For me, it is finding someone worthy of not only my complete and utter devotion, but also my submission and ache to be the only one to sate their every crave and need. I would go so far as to say I wished to be their every crave and need!

So far, none are worthy. I have a big personality, and most would never think of me as a, quote-unquote, submissive. I’m a bit of an oddity—can I call myself an, Alpha-submissive? The ineffable sub? Even throughout my long years as a horse trainer and professional, I was always Alpha mare. Always! I’ve often thought that a man who was—more—than me, probably didn’t exist. Add in the fact–I am a woman of God–and I desire to belong to a man of God? Well that list just got even smaller. Perhaps non-existent. But, in all reality, I’ve practiced submitting to God and His will in my life—my entire life.

I suppose you could say–I’ve become my own dominant.

On the bright side, this never filled ache of mine is great fodder for my work and my stories.  I write from a place of fantasy and hope that maybe, just maybe, HE does exist and, maybe, just maybe, HE might find me. I’m not looking.  I’ve actually always thought—HE would find me. HE would know I was meant to belong to him, and in turn, HE would make sure I knew.  He would gather me, woe me, and eventually OWN me—mind, heart, and body. Fantasy? Sure, why not. But don’t forget I believe in a God and His son, (my soul is theirs already), and that whole bible malarkey thing too.  I also believe in multiple lifetimes and honestly, I seriously doubt—Every. Single. Lifetime. We are allowed to find the kind of bliss I’ve always sought. This just might be an off-lifetime for me.

Patience grasshoppah—paint the fence—learn your lessons. The next chapter will come soon enough.

I’m an oddity to be sure. My goal in my writing is to let this foreign, alien, love-driven, will-surrendering mindset, filter through into my work. I’m going to use every moment of angst and longing to fuel my words and drive my characters. Maybe this is supposed to be my great love? The writing? It saved me during my darkest hour when I felt truly anointed to write my first book—AdventuresinPayne. (It’s being edited right this second by a professional and will be re-released in the spring of 2015). I do know I have a talent for it, and I am trying my darndest to impart the messages I’ve learned, or am being taught as I move along. Trying to tell the story the way they’ve told me. In writing this, I realize I already belong to a benevolent Father who’s taken great care of me.  I’ve never worked in the traditional sense, but everything I’ve ever wanted, (apart from that elusive relationship), has been provided to me.

The way I see it, THEY, want us to have overflowing desires. Without those, how can they, teach, train and mold us into the kind of evolved souls who would welcome more evolved souls into a paradise universe? Fear of hell isn’t going to work. Let’s be honest, hell is all around us, in us, part of us. We can’t do much worse than this treadmill existence. But! And there is a big BUTT! The promise of everlasting peace, contentment, saturation and satisfaction—not to mention unending LOVE and protection! All of those things will surely motivate me.

So, going into yet another year, think about your own spirit’s evolution. Don’t get sidetracked with the myriad distractions of life and family and others. Duties will always be there and nobody else’s path is as important as your own.  Change destructive patterns as quickly as you see them. If you don’t, if you linger and wallow, you will only stay here, there, in those patterns. If you do what you’ve always done—you will always get the same results.

I for one, want MORE and BETTER and all the rewards that I know come from being self-aware and on this path of learning and soul-improvement. It’s simple, just not easy. And most of all, there is no pride over here. Give in, give up the illusion you have a say in any of this—your will—your rightness—your marble hard veneer–soften your heart. When you do, I swear it is a miraculous awakening.

Remember–Relax, nothing is under control!

That at least is what I am doing on a minute by minute basis, and I like the person I am becoming. Onto 2015 people! Are you with me?

~Payne