When I retired from the state prison system, where I had been treating incest and other sex offenders for 12 years, I felt sufficiently concerned–as a psychologist and incest survivor myself–to share the devastation  incest has on victims. (Referred to as survivors as they struggle to grow.)  Almost to the man, they believe it doesn’t harm the victim.  I decided to write a book revealing the effect incest had on me.  In the process I became aware of more effects that I had not connected to the incest.

So I wrote the book. The editor of the University of Ohio Press wanted to print it. The business manager, however, turned it down, saying people don’t want to read about incest.

So, believing it could perhaps prevent future incest offenders or the many who have never been apprehended, I pursued “on demand” publishing, with Amazon’s Create Space and ended up with 434 pages.  I won’t bore you with the results but I have my book on a PDF and am willing to share at no cost.  You see, I meant it when I said I was motivated by the hope to share the knowledge and experience, not money.  If you’d like a copy and your computer can handle a hefty PDF, let me know plus where to send it.  I’m not worried about being flooded with requests, since it didn’t do well on Amazon.

P.S. If you request one or both I won’t print your request.

The World Is Flat After All

Dubbed Democracy, it used to be

top of the line, the lead ship, at sea,

and on the land it served us well,

until the  strains of its death knell

fell,

baring an underbelly swole

with all the pilfered things they stole

in broad daylight, and  on t.v.!

Gone is the half-belief in he

who’ll take us safely to the shore

while staying steadfast to the core.

The compass nestles in the deep

while those on board remain asleep.

They used to say the earth was round,

that right makes might, but I found

that all I knew I now know not,

nor how to tell the truth from rot,

and not so sure that we’ll endure,

to make a safe arrival.

Nan

SO —

I guess the only alternative is to quit

having sex with men?

Those who deliver squirming

residue, self-propelled compost

seeking expression, riding along

in the line of ink struggling to be

known, are our curious midwives

who, pulled inward, wipe the mirror

and meet the eyes, meanwhile

harking to the echoes, letting the

pustules break and hopefully setting

the dandelion chutes free to fly.