I am Terri Bailey and i am a writer!

Artist Statement

Sharing my words and thoughts is one of my favorite things. I love the thrill of completing a new story or poem. I am a little shy, but I worked to overcome my fears and share my work with the world.

I hope to inspire women by sharing the story of how I survived and flourished despite being a high school dropout and experiencing poverty, domestic violence, and sexual abuse.

Writing saved my life, and I try to incorporate this valuable tool into every aspect of my spiritual, business, and personal life. Writing is a gift that never stops giving, and I wish to share this skill with every person I encounter.

Through my writing, spoken word performances, and writing to heal workshops, I strive to help women find their voice, share their stories and live their authentic life.

I have two mini chap booklets: We Be Growing: A Celebration of Womanhood and The Pleasant Street Elite which is a short history of my childhood neighborhood.

Me and the If You Ask A Sistah Poetry Collective at the 2011 Zora Neale Hurston Festival, Eatonville, FL

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Chapbook, Poems and Art, Terri Bailey Writes, Commissioned Poetry, Performances

Purchase my booklets, poems with art, and other items to support my publishing efforts!

I am a writer of poetry, speculative fiction, black horror, and a spoken word artist. To date, my proudest writing accomplishments are:

  1. Having my poem, “Normally,” published in the anthology 2020: The Year that Changed America

  2. Being named the first runner-up in the competition for Alachua County’s first Poet Laurette (2020).

  3. Winning my first artist grant from the Alachua County Arts Council (2020)

  4. Being chosen to participate in the Division of Cultural Affairs Professional Development Workshop for Artists (2019)

  5. Performing poetry at the Zora Neale Hurston Festival with my Sisters, The If You Ask A Sistah Poetry Collective (2011)

  6. Winning 1st Place in the short story competition at Bethune Cookman University for my story The Journey, an Urban interpretation of Dante's Inferno (2009)

 

Terri L. Bailey reads Normally.

Excerpt from

For the love of mary

Chapter 3 - Esperanza

Mary’s best friend, Carmelita, had made several predictions that came true. Most recently, she warned Mary that her new friend, Esperanza, had more than a platonic interest in Mary’s fiancé, Omar. Even Omar tried to tell Mary that the woman was interested in him. One night after a double date, he expressed his concern.

“Mary, I think Esperanza was trying to get with me. Did you see how she kept leaning in close and whispering in my ear? When you and her man went to dance, she was all over me. Maybe we should distance ourselves for a while.”

Mary laughed in his face and told him his ego and imagination were running wild.

“Have you seen her, man? You are fine, bae, but he is a young, strong brother with more money than you and I ever dreamed of. Besides, I like Esperanza. She’s fun and always gets us in VIP wherever we go. I don’t think we have anything to worry about.”

Soon after that conversation, Mary started having nightmares about Esperanza in which she would be standing over Mary, throwing blood on her, chanting some gibberish, and laughing wickedly while saying her name. In the final dream, Esperanza was in Mary’s bed, naked from the waist up with rows and rows of black beads draping between her breasts, moving up and down rhythmically to the deafening sound of her heartbeat. She was wearing a skirt of honeycombs dripping layers and layers of steaming hot honey from the waist down. A white scarf was tied in a big knot on the top of her head, and she was smoking a fat ass cigar. Her eyes were black and fixed on Mary. The demonic Esperanza smiled and looked down at the bed where Omar lay with a black beaded dog collar around his neck. She snatched him up hard and held the attached leash tightly in her hand. She got on her knees, crawled to the foot of the bed, and looked down at a version of Mary on the floor, lying lifeless in a river of blood that flowed endlessly from between her legs. Esperanza let out a spine-tingling screech and began to laugh wickedly.

Mary woke up to Omar putting a cold towel on her head. The sheets were soaked in blood and sweat, and the ambulance was on the way. The doctors couldn’t figure out what was wrong with her. There were no fibroids, tumors, or cancer detected. She was an otherwise healthy young woman who bled heavily for the next six months. Whenever the bleeding eased up, she and Omar tried to make love, but each attempt increased her flow, followed by cramps that would keep her bedridden for days. He was scared to death to touch her. Soon Omar spent more time being her caregiver than her man. Mary watched helplessly as Esperanza spent more time with Omar becoming his confidant, comforter, and help mate.

Mary realized that she had foolishly misjudged Esperanza and her intentions.

FOR THE LOVE OF MARY(C)2016/REVISED 2021 TERRI L. BAILEY, ALL RIGHTS RESERVED