The Journey

WordPress friends!

It has been a LONG time since I’ve posted here. A few of you came along for the ride as I stepped further out of my shell into the land of Facebook pages, so thank you if you joined.

Several years ago I started this blog as a stepping stone to come out of my shell and begin to share my writing with the world.

It was here, on these pages, that complete strangers became friends and your positive feedback to my words sprouted confidence in me.

I decided along the way with all of this support to get serious about my writing and try to chase the dream that still lived and burned in my twelve-year-old heart, to become a traditionally published author.

It was a LONG road filled with many learning curves and bumps that thickened my skin allowing me to change and improve and grow.

I wanted to share my progress with my original audience and wonderful group of supporters.

I’ve completed my novel. Which, in itself is an incredible feeling.

Then, many drafts after the completion and many rejection letters and ‘ghost’ replies it was accepted, and this November, Falling from Grace will be released into the world. (Kindle version is available for preorder now – here Oh My God!)

Thank you WordPress community. Truly. This space is where I found my courage to all-out chase my dreams.




She doesn’t know.

Right now she is strolling through her life, nose to the ground, feet moving forward. Only lifting her head to see what’s immediately in her path.

An obstacle, an alternate road, a moment of choice – she senses it, gently stroking the possibilities, and her body moves intuitively.

Oblivious, blissfully ignorant, and thriving. A stark lack of knowledge of what the future holds.

Soon for reasons unknown to her, life as she knows it will change forever.

Silky and tight, she will close herself off to the rest of the world simply because her instincts tell her to.

This is something she must do with her life.

So she does.

She will seal herself in complete darkness and her beautiful life will begin to categorically deconstruct.

She will eat the very thing that roamed the earth, taking in the air and sunshine of her previous life – herself.

She will slowly digest every part of her present being in that darkness.

Alone inside her cocoon, she will liquify into a soup of what was once her entire self, the only form of life she had ever recognized will be destroyed…

But microscopic and unknown to her, tiny rudimentary wings, flecks of powdery tissues -the imaginal discs -have been inside of her all along. Crawling through her previous life with her, waiting for the darkness to arrive.

They, the pieces of the truest version of herself, will survive.

The discs will bob in the fluid that was once her soft, mealy being, and the discs will use her soupy remains to reconstruct in the shadows of her cocoon.

Suspended in the air between the thin limbs of unsuspecting trees, she will change, using her own destruction as a catalyst for metamorphosis.

Bound in silence and tarry blackness, broken and deliquesced, she will begin to rebuild.

When complete, her cocoon will rupture creating a gaping hole in the blackness she had only recently become accustomed to.

Another staggering moment of change.

But she will step forward again.

Crawling back out into the sunshine of the world from where she came.

She will shake off the remaining fragments of her fractured cocoon which gripped her, destroyed her, and left her changed, forever.

She will stretch and her beautiful new wings will unfurl from her body, glimmering as they spread out into the soft air.

And then,

she will fly.


As will you

my friend.

As will you.

Creativity captured

It has been a while my wordpress friends –

I am so thankful to have you in my life and to be able to share my words with you.

Wishing all of my Canadian friends and family a happy Thanksgiving. 💕

What ever makes your soul happy – do more of that.

Meraki: to do something with soul,

creativity or love;

to put something of yourself into your work.

Warm coffee 

There is an older gentleman who lives in my neighborhood. He is broad shouldered with fine features, and a stance of a hard-worked life. 

His truck is always clean and his driveway always plowed,

though I’ve not seen a soul to help him do either. 
He sits on summer days in a plastic chair at the head of his drive watching traffic.  

A broom or rake always resting across his knees.  

When I pass, I honk and he waves.  

In the evening his silhouette fills the long glass windows of his sunroom, 

backlit by what appears to be the fluid colors of a television. 
I do not know this gentleman, 

but he has become a part of my routine, 

to look for him sitting alone in his window, 

to honk for a wave as I pass, 

and to always ponder the possibility of bringing him a coffee and sitting awhile. 
I imagine my presence filling the empty chair across the table from him in the sunroom, 

or on the lawn cross-legged in the sun.
Just to know

Just to listen 

Just to chat
I never have.
That Cynical Cecil inside my mind does more than just discourage art. 

‘What would you say?’ It would ask.

‘How would you begin?’

‘How would he receive you — this young stranger with warm coffee and a smile…’ 

the weather has been too harsh for sitting at the end of a drive, 

the wind too sharp for plastic chairs. 

I look anyway, 

waiting to honk at the silhouette in the sunroom,

sitting across from the empty chair that calls to me.

the lights behind the long glass windows are too dark for traffic watching…

the vacant sunroom too sharp for me to imagine my seat in the chair.
I didn’t know

I didn’t listen

I didn’t chat 
My hand still hovers above my horn as I pass, 

waiting for that faint glow of a television, 

or perhaps that wave I have come to know… 
But mostly I wait for that gentleman 

with the broad shoulders 

and hard-worked stance.
Because now I know how I should have begun…
Simply, with a warm coffee and a smile.

Pinch me. 

Originally posted on Coralee Boileau 


There are certain moments wrapped infinitely in a web of overwhelming emotion, where time seems to stretch like elastic ribbons, distorted and unending then frozen in a moment of unrecognizable shock.
There are others that cause public spaces to fall away into a dark abyss of periphery. 
And there are some moments which are sharp, crystal clear moments of memory – like photographs. Unbelievable news delivered and frozen forever in time.
All extraordinary – more precisely perhaps, events of their own.
I had never felt them all at once ~ until recently 
Each one of those powerful and extraordinary emotions seemed to enter from the top of my head in a hurricane, tearing wildly through my entire body, pushing at the seams of my skin until the only words left floating in my mind were:
Which was all my husband heard at the other end of the phone between my ragged breaths. 
Until I read him this:
“Coralee – 
You’re a strong writer and you’ve done a great job creating an interesting story with some very well-developed characters!

We’d like to offer you a contract . . . for publication.”
Thank you – to all of you – for supporting me in this process and helping to keep my inner critic at bay ❤️💕 I can’t wait to officially share my words with you all. 
“Be fearless in the pursuit of what sets your soul on fire.” – Unknown 
#amwriting #Imaybedancinginmykitchen #amglowing #worldmeetSyniameetworld #writewithpassionfindyourinspiration #dreamcometrue #grateful #chaseyourdream #thereisnohashtagintheworldsparklyenoughtoexpressthisjoy #blydynsquarebooks

Write with passion.  Find your inspiration.


Real beauty two 

Seven years after creating a coffee table book titled Real Beauty in a word.  

(An idea I put together after being frustrated with the bombardment of media images my school age daughter was already being exposed to) 

I was inspired once again to create something for my pre teen daughter to hold on to as she moves into the tumultuous years of self and image.  

We donned tutu’s and high tops and toured the city.  Because we could.

But, more than beautiful pics from my friend and photographer Denise Picanco was born from this idea.  The true gift was a beautiful day of memories. 

You can check out the full post here

Happy Monday.


Putting my self out a little further.

Hello word press loves.  
Just wanted to share a little update. You can now find my blog on Facebook .
I’d love for you all to follow this link and continue to follow me.  
I am planning to still post here but perhaps not as frequently. 
Come along for the ride.  

Happy Friday! 
Write with passion.  Find your inspiration.