Being the WBW – Random Rant

First, what is a WBW you may be asking, or maybe you are not because you know I have a tendency to be a bit eccentric.   In short, ‘WBW’ is an acronym I made up to describe those of us in this mysterious position.  It means ‘weird black woman.’   This is where the rant begins…

What we are taught…

In our childhood, we are taught, hell, drilled to be unique.  To be the ‘talented tenth’ W.E.B. DuBois wrote so passionately about.   “Be U!” “Be Unique!” were supposed to be our mantras and our banners.    So we did, we were bold, unique… the problem:  being unique meant you were trying not to be black.   If I chose to wear my hair natural, I was being too militant to live up to the long locks of Keisha Night Pullum, Jada Pinkett or Sanaa Lathan.  That meant I wasn’t trying to fit in or get a man because I would not conform.  If I chose to wear my hair in the long tresses, the militant black women would be like: “what’s wrong with your natural hair? Don’t give in to the man.”  What do I have now? a faux hawk.  Damn the militants and the wanna be cover models, and anyone else.  I like it because it is me, it is who I am, and just wait until I get it dyed red and perhaps violet highlights.   That makes me unique.    That also apparently means that I’m ashamed of my blackness. Why are you trying to be something you are not? This perhaps coming from someone who has left more horses without hair so their tresses can be laid and looking like you stepped out of a magazine?    It’s like India.Arie said, I’m not my hair.   I choose my hairstyle not based on my skin tone, but how it makes me feel…

The hair debacle is a decades long argument that can go either way, and the truth of the matter is, it’s a stupid argument.    If I dye my hair platinum and wore it down to my ass like a mermaid, it shouldn’t matter to you.  If I burned down your house and said the hair made me do it, then yes you can make an argument about my hair.

Hair and Race at Hooters (<— Click – Ex-Hooters waitress sues over hairstyle) You can’t apparently work at Hooters with curly hair, or a blonde highlight if you are black.

I was taught that in order to succeed, you have to be stronger, smarter and faster than everyone else.  In order to do that, I had to learn, read, engross myself in world views, and realize that the world did not revolve around the small town mindset of the suburb I lived in.  Unfortunately, that meant not skipping class like most of the black kids in my school.  If I was too smart, I was selling out.  So being dumb was the style… say what now?  Yes, being smart was wrong among your peers.  So I had to kick it with the nerds and goths.  Problem was, they didn’t know how to take me either…No I can’t teach you to dance and I’m not going to drop it like its hot because we won a debate.   Being black and smart meant you fit in nowhere.

So I had an extremely difficult time as a young adult, but you would think the more you learn, the more you grow, this type of stuff would just die.   It doesn’t.

The Here and Now

My music tastes can range from Usher, Eminem, Toad the Wet Sprocket, Creed, AWOLNATION, Three Doors Down, Tupac, Biggie, Wu-Tang, Redman, and Jay-Z.  I can even hum Lady Antebellum and have been known to know the words to a Lady Gaga or a Bonnie Rait song.   I like good music.  Liking good music apparently makes me weird or not black enough to be in the blackest of black circles.   Andre 3000 from Outkast has almost every Metallica album and no one was trying to revoke his black card.  Don’t give me a side-eye because I know  Jason Mraz and Michel Buble.   Either expand your tastes, or don’t say anything.  Don’t tread on me or my mp3 player.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m not upset, I’m not mad.  I’m yelling for everyone to embrace their uniqueness and weirdness.   The point of this post is to be a catalyst to take off whatever glasses we are using to see the world, and view it from a fresh perspective that has not been clouded by jack-hole stereotypes.   I’m unique, yes.  Unfortunately, for me, being black, being unique means you are trying to be everything but black.   Since when did blackness and individuality go hand in hand?

My skin color should have absolutely nothing to do with what I wear, how I speak or whom I speak to.  It is 2013 people, knock it off.    I stand outside with my handsome-as- hell mate, I have cougars looking at him up and down like they want to make off with him to their lair, I really don’t need the drama from some black old man telling me I sold out.    I sold out because I don’t want to date a 40-year-old guy with his pants around his ankles, a starter cap and a dew rag?  Advice to that particular fogey, I can read four different languages, I can effectively cuss you out in three.  Get on my level before you try to criticize my level, mmmm k?  I’m an author, I can deal with a negative review.  I can’t deal with negativity born and bred out of ignorance.

I’m tired of seeing the same old news reports and articles… Has this person sold out because they cut their hair? Has this person sold out because they dated this person? Its getting old, and actually so are we.  We’ve grown the hell up.  We are not defined by our skin color, our hair, our parents, or what we eat.  I like McDonald’s fries but does that mean I’m a sloth? No, it doesn’t people.      We are all different and unique.  Whether you are white, black, brown, yellow, blue or green, embrace that part about you that sets you apart from the rest.  Only sheep are sheep, we are not sheep.   My eyes are not your eyes, my hair is not your hair.  Be proud of whatever, whomever you are.

I’ve embraced my weirdness.  I relish it. I’ve come to love the fact that people look at me and can’t figure me out.   I’m not here to break down walls of stereotypes; I’m here to annihilate stereotypes with TNT, C4, furry boots and red hair.

Sincerely, uniquely yours,

Nevea Lane aka Weird Black Woman


Eminem “Love the Way You Lie” AUDIO &… | Gather





Eminem “Love the Way You Lie” AUDIO &… | Gather


This is why I am inspired by this artist.  He is honest to the point it hurts.  The pain is evident in the wordplay. 

“…watching you leave through the window, I guess that is why they call it window pain.”   That is like Nathaniel Hawthorne at his rare moments.   Ok this was supposed to be a quick press, but dang it, this dude is due his due…

Thanks for coming back man...

Why I Choose to Write Interracial Romance/Erotica

I have never given it much thought on to why I choose to write Interracial romance/erotica. I was going through some posts and really just searching Google when I decided to write out what I thought about why I am obsessed with this particular genre.

For starters, it was because I could never find this type of novel when I began reading novels and romantica when I was younger. I loved the Alpha males. I was fascinated by the way that the authors told their tales with suspense and love always being there. Yet, one thing bothered me: none of the characters looked like me.

I was always one with eclectic tastes in high school. I hung out with the nerds, National Honors Society members, the jocks, I played basketball, the urbanites and a group we deemed as the Black Hole. I was a part of all of these cliques. I did not need to find myself defined by who I hung out with. I was indefinable. Of course, that got me some wierd stares and getting called some names, and in a few fist fights. I was a scrapper too. But in all of this, I knew one thing, I was attracted to all races.

Of course, my family coming from the deep deep South, I knew this wouldn’t fly over well. Needless to say, I didn’t date at all in high school. Not one boyfriend, I was too intimidated by my stoic family to dare bring home someone of a different race. If I couldn’t handle it at that age, I knew that whoever that person was, they would not even survive a moment in the lion’s den.

With that being said, I relished the time alone I had to watch movies to get my fill. It was ok in my house to say a particular white man was fine as hell, Costas Mandylor, Richard Gere, you know? But to say you would date them? Oh hell to the naw. That was not going to fly.

I digress. I went to college and English was my major. At this particular time, I was still too scared to bring home the ‘other’. So I wrote it. I wrote long stories of the heroine and hero grappling with race, culture or even their own peeves and getting to the loving. As I wrote, I began to look for the same thing that I was writing. I couldn’t find it anywhere.

There were some pretty pathetic attempts at it, hinted at in certain movies such as How Stella Got Her Groove Back where one of her sisters was married to a white man. I just didn’t see it. Perhaps it was too new, or too taboo. I am not sure which. Yet, I still knew that for me it was just about attraction, not bank account, credit scores, better cars or caviar dreams. It was a plain and simple attraction. I tried very hard to analyze this and tried to figure out just how in the world could I break this “habit”, as if it were a disease to be cured. Sad isn’t it?

I quickly realized that it wasn’t just some disease, it was just a part of who I was. Just as I just don’t get down with one particular type of music, I just won’t confine myself to one particular type of man. I don’t think in any way that defines me as a person, it just defines me.

So I began to pick up my writing again, not trying to cure myself, but to embrace myself. I never wanted to be pigeonholed, and I won’t let my writing be pigeonholed either.

So I write these erotica shorts as an outlet of what I would like to see. I no longer worry about what other people think of it, and I know longer care what my family thinks. They have accepted it about me now, and even if they didn’t, I would still persue it.

Love comes in all shapes, colors and dogmas. Love knows no bounds, why should we try to cage it? It is for this reason I choose to write interracial romance because I could never get enough of it. Everyone is beautiful in their own right.


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