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About Me

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Kristal R. DeJong

Relationship Novelist

A Labor of Love

There are lots of reasons people create; and just as many debates over natural talent vs. hard work. Is talent naturally embedded in the DNA of some people? Who knows? I can only speak from my own experience. Any natural talent I possess is only the starting place; the rest is hard work. I have been creating all my life, in several disciplines; and when I lost my mom to suicide several years ago, both spirituality and creativity became my light of Earendil. "May it be a light for you in dark places, when all other lights go out." (J.R.R Tolkien - The Lord of the Rings)

I originally began the novel, "Heart of a Star", thirty years ago, then ignored it for twenty. I blame my rabbits for its resurrection shortly before the four-year anniversary of my mom's death. I considered hiring myself out as a freelance writer, while I cleaned their cages one day. I quickly concluded that would be stupid, since I finally had the time to write for myself.

Very little of the original work remained. In fact, I threw a critique chapter away while cleaning the garage a few month before. It had been in a box ever since we moved to Texas. What a coincidence! Or was it? I buried that story in 1999 and moved on with my life. The timing of it's sudden rediscovery seems just a bit suspicious.

I made a few discoveries while in the process of rewriting that book. I'm not the same person I was shortly before my mom died, and I'm no where near the person I was thirty years ago. I remembered some key elements of the story, but there were others I forgot, including the original title. I decided to remain an independent artist well before I finished the first draft. It gave me the freedom to tell the story the way I preferred, and set the tone for an entire series.

Sometimes, you have to lose something important in order to find true courage. It requires a lot of courage to step away from accepted publishing advice and middlemen, which eventually became one driving purpose of this website. What would be the point of investing in e-commerce otherwise?

I see no value in competing for awards, or making lists. They require a certain amount of conformity; which is not my particular cup of tea. So, you won't find anything of that nature here. I create to honor the people who matter to me. Relationships - with each other and the world around us - provide the foundation which all stories are built upon. There would be no interesting stories to tell with out them.

I also created this website because I value personal relationships. It's the exclusive home of all the projects I offer to the public. My current season podcasts are the only exception. I realize most people aren't used to dealing with artists directly, especially writers. Contrary to current popular belief, entertainment wasn't provided by major corporations. In the beginning, stories, and the knowledge of elders, could only be enjoyed directly from the source. Why shouldn't we return to the original model? This is your invitation to enter a storyteller's secret garden, and I welcome you to my creative refuge.

The Saga of Long-Eared Weirdos

Once upon a time, there was a crazy woman who eventually owned four rabbits at once. Why? It's a rather long story, so here is the abridged version. A fiber junkie knitter really wanted some wooly critters of her own. Sheep and alpacas are not possible in her suburban location. Junkies really like the good stuff for their creations, so she embarked upon a quest to acquire an Angora rabbit.

The first of these curious creatures to join her household, was from the Houston Human Society. You might say he was a Valentine's Day gift. He was adopted Feb. 13, 2013. Who says 13 is an unlucky number? His new mom christened him Mr. Harry Buns. It transpired he wasn't an Angora rabbit; but he still created memories, including a visit to a middle school special development classroom. He eventually became the memorable namesake of a production company. A fitting tribute, don't you think?

A three-year old English Angora, named Angus, joined Buns in May, 2013. They were followed by the Lion-head/Mini-Rex cross, Benjamin Bunnysworth, in 2014; and another English Angora, Lola Rapunzel, in March, 2015. Sadly, I lost Buns and Lola in 2020. Buns was seven. Lola was almost six. Angus died in 2022, at the age of twelve. I guess this page is mostly a digital memorial now.

Human beings aren't the only ones capable of leaving a legacy. Buns, my first rabbit, was difficult at first. He wasn't very tame when I brought him home. Even though he bit me a few times, we eventually made friends with each other. Angus and Lola left behind two 30 qt. storage containers of Angora wool. Their personalities were also a joy to experience. Angus was my honey-bunny, and Lola was my sweet pea.

Benny has been the acting CEO of Harry Buns Productions since its founding in 2020. He will turn nine in the Spring of 2023. (He's a former Easter Bunny, who was dyed pink and blue, then given to a friend's children. Since she wasn't consulted first, he came to live with me shortly after the holiday.) He suddenly developed cataracts last summer, and his eyes are now white.

Don't worry if you see current photos of him on my social media accounts. It's a symptom of old age. Yes, he's blind now, but his environment has always been consistent, including a designated play space. He still entertains me with his sassy-pants attitude, enjoys "customizing" cardboard boxes and digging in old towels.

All four of them provided necessary emotional support after my mom died in May, 2015. Only their methods are a bit different than those of a dog. They're prey animals and don't like any behavior which appears threatening. It's their way, or the highway, if you're not calm and collected.

Unlike Angus, I got Lola when she was 2 1/2 months old. She started growing her adult coat when my mom passed. English Angoras are very high maintenance, and it's impossible to meet their grooming requirements, unless you gain their trust, first. My mom's death wasn't peaceful, but my rabbits didn't care about that. I had to push myself into that state for a few hours everyday; otherwise I couldn't complete my daily chores without a lot of drama. Basically, they helped me relearn how to self-soothe.

Those 4-5 hours of daily chores and grooming gave me plenty of time to daydream. Dreams lack meaning if you don't pursue them, so thank you, my precious bunnies, for leading me where I am today.

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