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K.B. Imle
58 followers -
Creative writer, Certified Rolfer, hiker, travel addict, standup paddler, horse lover, runner, dreamer, dancer, singer, nut job, dog mom, friend.
Creative writer, Certified Rolfer, hiker, travel addict, standup paddler, horse lover, runner, dreamer, dancer, singer, nut job, dog mom, friend.

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Another excerpt from the memoir, in which the wolves finally invade the church and save me from the fate of...but I'm getting ahead of myself. In this chapter the young me still suffers the fate of Eve, the scapegoat. It is her fault the man did what he did, and God is watching, weighing her in the balance.
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This is an excerpt from the memoir I am writing. The book walks the fractal lines between religion and reality, imagination and madness. In this piece, I discover what will one day be a path to redemption: horses.
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This is another excerpt from the memoir I am currently writing, about growing up in Alaska (and partly in Europe and California) during the 70's and 80's. The book deals with the trauma of early sexual abuse and the resultant fractal lines between mental illness and imagination, religion and reality. Ultimately it is a story not only of survival, but humor and triumph in the midst of madness.
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I'm writing a memoir that explores the aftermath of sexual abuse in early childhood. I turned to my imagination for help, finding a place rich with powerful creatures, among them a fierce dragon with glowing red scales. This piece is (I think) the prologue to the memoir. We'll see what the editor says.
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Protecting one another is a full-time job. It looks like a lot of different things: standing in solidarity, advocating for human rights, exposing perverts for who they are, and keeping our eyes open in the dark. Like so many of us, it is my own "me, too" that keeps my eyes open. But I will not let those experiences go to waste. They have honed my instincts, twisted me and yet made me strong. Our voice is our strength. Without secrecy, the predator has nothing. He is a sick, sad, impoverished little creature. This is how the tables turn.
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Thoughts on screwing up: we all do it, and we all need forgiveness. Can we grant that forgiveness to ourselves? Can we grant it to others? I've been all over the world, running from my own suffering; but the suffering is still right here, running along with me. The harder I fight it, the harder it holds on. Sometimes the best thing to do is stop running, acknowledge my mistakes, and start over.
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Hurry up and slow down. Time and fear are dogs at your heels.
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You see the strangest stories, everywhere you look. #openyoureyes  
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Death and renewal: feeding myself to the earth.
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