Release

I want to thank all who purchased my new book, “Stupid Boy”, or helped to promote it by sharing links to it, for me. Release day is always an emotional rollercoaster for me. Not because I am thrilled or overjoyed, but because I am afraid. Not only am I putting myself out there to the world; a world that is often judgemental and not always for the better, but because I am telling.

I am telling the real secrets I have held onto for 20 years or more. I am putting out into the world, a view of my parents that I do not actually hold, but one that those who read it, will form.

My father is still in my life, when I see him it makes the guilt more when I know what I have said about him. I feel like a child in these moments; of perhaps, facing my father and thinking who is going to believe me.

He is well respected. He has friends; he is liked. People seek him out for help and advice. He cares. His own daughter idolises him yet, here I am making him out to be some kind of sick monster with my words. Knowing how the world sees him and knowing what I know, I always feel like a liar. Even though my words are the truth, in my father’s world, I would be the liar and he would never do such things.sb cover final

It makes me question. I ask myself if things are real. Did I make them up? Did they really happen? I question my sanity. Perhaps, I am insane and these are just the visions from a psychotic episode. I detach and the events seem like a dream.

The guilt I feel is tremendous, yet each time, I sit to write. Each time, I let that little boy inside, have a voice. I feel better.

People often ask me how I can bring it all back up again. How I can relive it. They assume writing it is painful for me, but it is not.

Not writing it, is what hurts. Denying that boy his voice and his right to tell, leaves me lost. He thrashes around inside with all these things he wants to say and when I don’t let him, my dark days come.

It does not make a person sick when they take the poison out, it is when you try to hold it in that it devours you.

 

Stupid Boy

Finally, I am pleased to announce that Stupid Boy, will be released tomorrow. The third book in the Dear Teddy series.
” I am a stupid boy, with stupid hair and stupid clothes. I am always stupid, forever. My badness comes out and makes it all stupid. I don’t tell Mr. Ted though. He is my friend. We go outside and we get to play. We chop up all the bad people with our swords. We play with Andrew too. He is magic, he is invisible. He doesn’t know that I am Stupid Boy. Nobody ever wants Stupid Boy.”sb cover final

Stupid Boy is the third instalment of Dear Teddy, and continues the pain-filled journey of a seven-year old boy through his horrific childhood of abuse. In his own words, he shows you his scars and tells you the lies that he believes; every page an accounting of the deliberate destruction of a child by those he loves and the strangers he is forced to please.

His gentle spirit will reach out and amaze you with its strength. Wrap your arms around him as he opens his heart once more and shares his life with you.

His story continues…

A review from a dear friend, Cyn, who beta read Stupid Boy for me 🙂

Have you ever felt such deep anger and hatred for two total strangers that you would happily hunt them down and cause them great physical harm? Well, this is how you will feel when you read JD Stockholm’s third book of the Teddy series. Any parent who can subject their child to the horrors that these people did should be made to undergo the same kind of torture. And worse. Because they deserve it. Their innocent child did not.

After reading the first two books, Dear Teddy and Telling Teddy, I remember walking around in a haze for days after. The books had shocked me and affected me so profoundly that it seemed I could think of nothing else. At home, at work, in the car. My own problems suddenly seemed dreadfully small and insignificant in comparison. The thing is, I knew about child abuse…but I didn’t actually “know”. These books open your eyes to a nightmarishly harsh reality that you wish did not exist and make you realise that, as a society, we are not doing nearly enough to help these innocent, helpless children.

I thought I had read the worst of it and that things could not possibly get any worse for our little hero in Stupid Boy. Unfortunately, I was so very wrong. This third book serves to illustrate just how deep his parents’ depravity runs. It will leave you frozen in horror and rage. Despite having realised from the first two books what kind of monsters we are dealing with, these people’s actions still succeed in shocking you into speechlessness.

The seven-year-old little boy still longs for his parents’ love and acceptance. He still desperately wants to be able to live with them because he needs them in his life. It is heartwrenching to see his sadness and despair for these undeserving people. He is like every other child who adores and even idolises his parents and craves their love and approval in return. But these are not normal people or parents worthy of his love. They do not even deserve the titles “Mum” and “Dad”. However, this is not something an innocent little boy’s mind can grasp or understand. He still believes that everything bad that happens to him is his fault and that it is because of “the evil” inside of him.

The role his mother plays in his sexual abuse, which is made much clearer in this book, is deplorable. You are appalled by her abominable behaviour and outraged that she could reject and maltreat her young son in that way. His father’s neglect and barbarity continues to be just as contemptible as it was. However, what shocks you most is how far these people’s mistreatment of their son eventually goes. The actions of his parents in this book are shockingly heinous. They are perverse throughout the book but I literally felt as if my heart had been ripped out at what they allowed him to be subjected to in the end. It is impossible to relate to their inhumanity and their complete lack of compassion or parental instinct.

It is ironic how this young boy tries to protect his mother in one instance in the book, when it should be the other way around. She should be trying to protect her child but she has done nothing remotely close to that. In fact, she has allowed the exact opposite to occur. Even here she pushes him away, rejecting his help and him once again. It tears you up inside and makes you hate her even more. As for his father, you seriously question whether he has any humaneness or any sense of decency in him at all. Whether he is even human.

The story is made even more effective by the way the writer has us see it from a little boy’s perspective. His childlike mind and speech make him totally loveable and his innocence is utterly endearing and heartrending. At one point, his benevolence and kind-heartedness even has him worrying whether he may have caused hurt or discomfort to the very people abusing him. This is one of the things that makes this entire tragedy even more saddening.

Another thing that breaks your heart is how he believes he is so bad that not even God wants him in heaven. All this, after he has just survived another case of brutal abuse. He wonders why he did not die and comes to the conclusion that he is not good enough for heaven. Also upsetting is the fact that he says and thinks this with such acceptance. He believes he is responsible for and deserves all this atrocity. Atrocities that will make you shudder and cry.

Stupid Boy also broaches a much debated and predominant issue in today’s society. How and why a child can turn to self-harm, imaginary friendships or Obsessive Compulsive Disorder. How it can engender a false sense of alleviation or relief for a child.

JD Stockholm is an extremely talented writer and has again done an amazing job in making you experience the boy’s anguish, terror and despondency as if you were there with him. You feel it so deeply that you wish you could climb into the pages of the book and pull him out of all the dreadfulness. The author should be applauded for his courage to write these books that talk about such painfully horrendous experiences. They have served to open our blind eyes and urge us to act. They urge us to stop looking the other way and acknowledge a grisly truth that we would rather deny.

I highly recommend read this book, as well as the first two if anyone has not already read them. A definite five-star rating.

Stupid Boy

A good friend of mine and fellow author Azure Boone read Teddy three, which at the moment I affectionately call Stupid Boy. Its a working title at the moment. She thought to write a review of it so far and said I could share it here. 

So, I beta read Dear Teddy part three by JD Stockholm.  The current working title is I think is “Teddy and Stupid Boy”

When he sent me the file, it was titled Stupid Boy. First thing I wanted to do was change it. Isn’t that how we are though? Wanting to just erase the wrong, and make it right? I did that throughout the manuscript in fact, changed words to erase the lies. I was like an out of control parent, storming through his past and rewriting shit like it might actually help.

He said he got a good laugh, so, I’m glad for that.

But you know, the most amazing thing happened while I read book three. I began to really understand this kid. I began to “get” why he didn’t want to look in the mirror, “get” why he felt “bad”.

Reading these accounts in the child’s pov has allowed me to actually watch how the abuse took hold of him, how he processed it and how his phobias were born.

Tremendously educational while at the same time, horrific.

Some things that really struck me in book three, I mean really slapped awe into me, was this kid’s compassion! The best way for me to explain it, is to show it. Warning…this scene is taken from the part in his life when he’s being sexually abused by strangers all day long at a “camp” his “parents” sent him to:

My hand is sore. I don’t be able to hold the cover very tight. The girl next to me has too much and I don’t be able to pull it back. The dark man made it all sore because he squished it all down. He didn’t mean to. He said he was sorry about it. I told him it was okay. I didn’t want him to be sad about it.

I swear. This broke my heart. I mean, here’s this sweet kid, suffering the most horrific shit, and he has the heart to care about the man who hurt him. Un-believable. Truly.  I couldn’t even comment on what form of torture would befit this mother-effer. I was too blown away.

What’s different about book three too is the whole Stupid Boy theme. At this time, this kid is sure he’s got to be the most stupid kid on the planet. He can’t do anything right, everything he does makes people hate him and hurt him. The author opens every chapter with a small Stupid Boy story that summarizes what the chapter holds. So very clever, and as usual, the voice, the vocabulary, is just remarkable. I mean, Stupid Boy is my hero! I love Stupid Boy, he’s like the most awesome kid on the planet to me. He was even nice to the monsters in his stories:

Stupid Boy and his friends all went out for the day. They went to the big hills that touched the sky. They climbed the hills. It took a long, long time. Maybe a week. There was lots and lots of snow. It was all white and shiny and cold.

Mr. Ted thought maybe there would be penguins. They got to hear a growl outside. It was a snow monster. It was all big and scary.  He got big giant claws that was all black. He got sharp teeth too and was going to eat everyone all up.

Mr. Ted and Stupid Boy got their swords and went outside to chop the monster up. Mr. Ted hit the monster with his sword and the monster cried.

Stupid Boy feeled sad in his tummy. The snow monster was cold. He wanted to sit in the tent by the fire.

They all got to be friends.

I vote Stupid Boy for president!

Another amazing thing I learned was why the child in the story thought he was bad. He didn’t like when his father did sexual things to him, and so, he was sure it was the bad inside him that made him not like the sexual things his father and mother made him do. His parents were so good at pretending it was normal and good, that the child figured he was the bad one for having a problem with it!

That just blew me away when I realized that was happening.

I think the end of this book was the hardest for me to read out of all the books so far. In fact, I even told him, “I don’t think you’re going to be able to put this, it’s too horrible, people aren’t going to be able to read it.”

And it was only a day’s account at that hellish camp they sentenced him to. I asked him how long he went there. He told me every weekend and during holidays, for nearly two years!

Why was this abuse worse? Because it hurt him more. He wanted to go home. He wanted his mom. His dad. This abuse at the hands of strangers was much worse on his psyche than any other. And it went on for nearly two years. The reader wouldn’t be able to endure that torture, because I believe they become very tied to him throughout the book and would feel like they were making him live it again.

And for others like me, if it’s there, I must read it. Or I will feel like he’s shared something and I have left him alone to bear it. So, I’m not sure how much of it will get left or removed, but, I do hope he does whatever he needs to.

Well, this concludes my review on the Dear Teddy part 3 book with the working title of Teddy And Stupid Boy.  I thank the author for allowing me the privilege of reading this account and not being angry at me for marking it all up with my temper tantrums. Be looking for the release, it’s coming soon! Help me spread the news, help the author educate the public about the hidden side of child abuse.

 

Read it on her site here.

Telling Teddy Is Out

Telling Teddy is out

My new book Telling Teddy, the sequel to the #1 ranked book, Dear Teddy, has now been released on Kindle. Please check it out.

 Mr. Ted. I love you very much.

 I love my Mr. Ted. He is all mine and he is magic. He keeps me safe from the bad man. I hug him all tight. We sit on the floor by the fire. I don’t be allowed to sit on the chairs. I am too evil.

Me and Mr. Ted like to write stories. He tells me what to write. Then I draw the pictures about it and we make it all nice. I put it in my scrap book. My Nan bought me the scrap book. It is big and has lots of pages. It has a car on the front and my name.

Mr. Ted holds the hand of his six-year-old friend as they share more of his deepest secrets. Poignant and bold, the boy’s courageous words are detailed and real. He takes you farther into his abusive life and broken mind as he survives the tangled deceit and lies of his everydays. Sit alongside him. Hear his voice and listen with your heart as he opens it up once more.

His story continues…

 Buy at Amazon.com 

Buy at Amazon.co.uk 

Telling Teddy

Coming Soon

It’s been a few days since I last self-harmed.

That’s not bad for me right now. It had been an almost daily thing that I couldn’t fight and I found that I wasn’t writing. Not really.

I got myself into a schedule and set about the re-writes for Dear Teddy 2. Once I got into it, the self-harm stopped. So far.  In a way, maybe writing helps me dig out what I am trying to reach with knives.

I still don’t have a voice except when I am writing. Perhaps that is the only voice I have right now. It seems an effort to talk. Of course, I have managed to talk to people but I have had to make myself. In these last few days, it has been harder. Today, aside from one person, I have not talked at all.

I put that down partly to a bad night; partly to myself. Perhaps, finishing my book has made me silent today. I have no words. Fifty-two thousand words; two drafts. It has been through edits and proof reading and now to be beta read.

Dear Teddy 2 is done;  to be called Telling Teddy.

I feel the loss of not writing it. That is normal from any writing, I know, but the empty hole I try to fill feels bigger today.

Writing Tell Teddy has certainly been an interesting journey. I think, in ways, I am somewhat numb to it. Aside front the odd chapter the last one, on its own, took more to write than the entire book.

A friend of mine reads it as I go along. Her reactions to what she has read differ. Sometimes, I wonder why she can’t see things my way or why things she read are so black and white. It is because I forget she is looking in through the eyes of a boy. She is not the boy.

She read a chapter a few days ago; one where an official questioned me and then clearly walked away. She said that I got failed a lot and she was sorry for that. I think maybe this is a part that gets misunderstood.

I am glad that I got failed. I’m not sorry they did. To those reading, I could have been saved from a pair of monsters. To me, I would have been taken from my mum and dad; the only family I had.

And while I wished they didn’t do the things they did, they were ‘my’ mum and dad.

Interview

Check out a piece about me. Thanks Alan.

WERZOMBIES PRESS

By AK Dale

WERZOMBIES PRESS

NORTHERN ENGLAND – ‘Trying’ to be a full-time author could be a lot worse job than plenty of others out there.

For James, known as JD, Stockholm, who lives with his “not so” little two daughters, is writing books after graduating college in the food industry.

A trained baker, Stockholm, now is attending school to study social science and human physiology.

But despite being mad busy, the English writer always finds time to ply his craft.

“I think you need to have the passion for it,” Stockholm said. “I think you need to be willing to learn and develop. I see many writers that sit there and won’t take criticism, they do the, there’s nothing wrong with my writing thing, but no one is ever perfect. There is always room to improve.”

Some of his work derives from dealing with issues long past yet remain…

View original post 646 more words

Dear Teddy.

        Sneak Peak. Doing rewrites of the next book in the Dear Teddy series and for some reason this one seems to be coming out in a different tense. Not that it is a bad thing, but clearly I don’t want to mess with something so much that it loses its readability.

I’m posting this here mainly for opinions of anyone who has read Dear Teddy already. If the change is bothersome. It’s a little triggering and a little graphic at the end, so please as always read with caution.

Thank you for your time.

***

I love my Mr. Ted. He is all mine and he is magic. He keeps me safe from the bad man. I hug him all tight. We sit on the floor by the fire. I don’t be allowed to sit on the chairs. I am too evil.

Me and Mr. Ted like to write stories. He tells me what to write. Then I draw the pictures about it and we make it all nice. I put it in my scrap book. My Nan bought me the scrap book. It is big and has lots of pages. It has a car on the front and my name.

I write about all my stories inside it. I don’t write about the bad man though. I don’t tell anyone about the bad man. He can hear me. He reads minds. Mr. Ted keeps him away.

My mum says she doesn’t want to hear about it. But the bad man makes me scared in my tummy. Mr. Ted says don’t tell anyone. If I do then the bad man will come and get me. My mum says he’s a demon. He is from the devil like me. But I’m not a demon. I’m just evil. But my mum is going to make me all better. She gives me medicine.

The medicine doesn’t get to work yet. That’s why the bad man comes at night. Then he does the hurt thing. It makes me scared. Mr. Ted says it’s a secret. The bad man bites me and scratches me. Then I don’t get away. My mum doesn’t hear me shout. The bad man makes me go to sleep.

Me and Mr. Ted write a story about a penguin and a mouse. I make all the pictures. They live together in the mouse house.  They are very happy. They go to the fair and have candy floss. The mouse is very kind. He shares all his things with the penguin.  He shares his candy floss. The penguin thinks it is very yummy.

Me and my Nan are going to the fair. It is my birthday and I get to be six. My mum and dad don’t come. They have lots of things to do at home.

I get candy floss. But I don’t get to give Mr. Ted any of it. My Nan says it will make his fur all sticky. Then my mum will be mad and he will have to go in the rubbish bin. He is my Mr. Ted. I didn’t want him to go away in the rubbish bin.

No candy floss for Mr. Ted. I tell him no. He doesn’t be sad about it. He is a good Mr. Ted.

I am allowed to go on the rides. They make it all tickle inside. My Nan goes on them too. She likes the rides. I hold onto my Nan’s hand. We get on rides that are like tea cups. We sit in the cup and it spins around in circles. It makes me all dizzy in my head. My Nan says I am being silly because it makes my tongue fall out of my mouth and my eyes go across.

There are big rides too. They go very fast and I want to go on them. I ask my Nan but she says I am too small.

I am big.

I am six.

My Nan says, “Not big enough.”

I pull a sulky face and make my arms fold up. But she says I was still too small. One day I will be big. Then I will go on them. There is a board with a line on it. I get to stand on my tip toes. My Nan says I am cheating.

We finish on all the rides and we get to ride on a tram. It is time to go home again. My Nan takes me to my house. My mum and dad are there. They don’t remember it is my birthday. But I am allowed them anyway until I don’t be evil anymore. My mum says when I am better I can have one like my brother does. I try my best to get better.  I take all my medicine.

I sit by the fire with Mr. Ted after my Nan goes home. We draw a picture about the candy floss and the tea cup rides.  My mum is in the kitchen. She is cooking dinner. It is roast chicken. My dad sits at the table and drinks his beer in the can. He asks me what I am doing. I tell him I am drawing a picture about the fair.

“Can I look at it?”

I show him my book. He gets the pictures in his big hands. He asks me if I drew them myself. I make my head all nod. Yes I did. They are mine.

My dad does the stare thing. “It’s bad to tell lies.”

But I don’t be lying. I did them myself. I didn’t trace them. Me and Mr. Ted made them. I get my paper and my pencil. I show my dad how to draw the rides and the penguin. He picks it up. He says it is very good.

My dad asks if he can look at my story. I show him the one about the fair. My dad sits on the floor with me and then he looks at my book. He reads it out loud. He makes a silly voices with it. It makes me laugh. He makes the voices sound all funny.

He gets my hand. He puts it inside his pants. I wish I got to hug Mr. Ted. My dad gets to the end of the page. He tells me to turn it to the next one. He says my stories were very good.  He wants to read some more. He keeps my hand in his pants until it get all wet. He tells me to go and wash my hands. It is nearly dinner time.

NaNoWriMo and 610,466 words later.

Last year I had a crazy idea for my writing motivation.

I’m a NaNo junkie. If you don’t know what that is, visit here. NaNoWriMo.org . Every year in November, thousands of writers both published and unpublished come together for the insane task of writing 50,000 words in 30 days. Personally I have done it for six years now and loved it every time.

In June last year, those nice folks over at the Offices of Letters and Light opened their cabins to many happy campers that fancied a little midyear-getaway-crazy-writing-goal-month. I was one of them. See campnano here. campnanowrimo.org

It crossed my mind how many words I could get if I was to do the standard 1667 words a day (That’s 50k divided by 30 days). A little button punching on my calculator, of course it’s a leap year too and June 2011 for a year would amass to 610,122 words.

I love NaNo. Plus I’m slightly mad when it comes to writing; I decided that I would aim for this. 1667 words a day for 366 days was nothing.

Today was my last day. I feel a little lost now because of course tomorrow there isn’t a writing goal. I do have a ton of words to revise and some first drafts to look at and laugh and wonder what on earth I was thinking when I wrote those.

Four and a half novels written, over 100 poems and more than my weight in coffee devoured, I finished with a total of 610,466 words for the year. A whole 344 words over.

I’ve had an amazing year of writing. One of the books. Dear Teddy, was published last month and also a collection of my poems in the Dark Ramblings of the Phoenix. I also had poems featured in Barry Mowles book Tears Of Ink and Brian Wrixons, Words on the Winds of Change.

Year two? Perhaps.

Camp Nano starts tomorrow. 😉

Free Today Dear Teddy

Free for three days. Please download, read, review.

Please share. I am more than happy to return the favour.

Little boy little boy,
Curled in a ball.
I know your secrets,
I know them all

I write in my journal as much as I can. I talk to Mr. Ted. He is my only friend. He understands when the bad man comes. He holds my hand when I have nightmares and my mummy doesn’t hear me cry. Mr. Ted doesn’t tell. He won’t say when my daddy hurts me. He keeps my secrets and my stories. I love Mr. Ted. He is the only one who loves me back.

Mr. Ted.
I keep falling asleep. Bad things happen. I get sore all the time. But I don’t know why. My mum says it’s a demon. Because I got evil.

Please make me be good.

Amazon.com

Amazon.co.uk