I do not weep at the world. I am too busy sharpening my oyster knife.

Their Eyes Were Watching God. The Bluest Eye. I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings.

These were books that made a little Black girl in Oakland hungry for more. Made her eyes open wide with wonder, eager to gobble up more words, more pages, more books. Made her feel, while waiting in the dentist office, cooped up at home on a rainy Saturday afternoon, under the covers late at night with a flashlight, that her story was important, that it mattered. That she even had a story to tell.

For many years, I shared very intimate details surrounding the loves of my life, my family and friends, and my relationship with God over at sugahoney.com. There was a profound shift that occurred in 2012, though. A shift in my life that affected my online persona and my offline personality, prompting me to let “sugahoney” go.

I look back on that part of me as fond memories that will surely be great material to entertain my grandchildren, but as of now, it is time to move on.

In this new year, I have pushed books and writing back to the forefront of my life.

Writing is one of those things that opens my heart up and pushes my adrenaline to its highest peak. My main teacher in writing has been reading: absorbing character development, plot twists, airy descriptions, and poetic paragraphs, ushering me into a lifestyle overflowing with novel ideas and short story drafts full of Oakland girl angst and Black woman glory.

Reading was the activity of choice in my childhood that kept me entertained when my friends could not come out and play, or television bored me. It is the thing in adulthood that has distracted me from grief or heartbreak; sustained and leveled me during my impatient and anxious times. It has nurtured friendships, and colored conversations with strangers. I have turned to it in countless situation.

These two things, reading and writing, mean a lot to me. It is only fitting that I passionately pursue sharing the things that hold so much weight in my life with whomever I can, here, in this space named after the most influential women writer warriors in my life: Zora Neale Hurston, Toni Morrison, and Maya Angelou.

Sugahoney will be here, scattered throughout the archives. And every now and then, a post on love and life will land in your lap. But the focus will mostly be on writing and reading and poetry.

And today, on what would have been Zora Neale Hurston’s 122nd birthday, I will begin sharing this journey of reading and writing with you and whoever else stops by.

You are surely welcome.