Five W’s and one H, spell dream.

GreyThis is a guest post by Kade Cook, author of “Grey: The Covenant of Shadows”.

Kade Cook is a semi-retired IT Professional turned first-time author with her book, GREY, a fantastical journey that she began writing in the winter of 2015 on a dare. GREY is now completed and is the first published novel in The Covenant of Shadows trilogy.

A lover of music, literature, fine art and Cuban coffee, Kade has a great appreciation for those minds that like to hover outside the box. She resides in her country home with her family and multicolored beta fish, Rainbow, in the outskirts of Shediac, a small town along the eastern coastline of NB, Canada.

Born and raised as a ‘Maritimer’ through and through, she will always be at home around good times and kind hearts, proud to be a daydreamer with a story to tell.

Kade Cook


Every adventure in life starts somewhere, at some point but sometimes we don’t realize that we are on it until we wake up one morning with a new spring in our step. The once tiring and boring feeling of being awake becomes a thrill and the adrenaline of wondering what direction this new day will turn. It nearly makes us bound forward down the hallway, ready to begin.

I have a theory as to how it all starts to transpire.  At least for one girl I like to call ‘me’.

It begins with a ‘W‘.


A young girl that had always felt a little out of step with everyone else around her.  Someone who was curious about everything but most times too shy to ask the specifics until she learned to find her own voice.


From a desolate area that existed miles away from the nearest point of civilization. A town that had just enough people in and around it to be called a town but it was home.


Since the very beginning.


An over active imagination that spun constantly and became bored with everyday life as she knew it.  So instead of fitting in and being just like everyone else she spent hours and hours alone in her room, imagining strange and unusual life instances—recreating them as best she could with her stuffies and dolls, not to mention a few cameos by the family cat that occasionally stopped by for a scratch on the belly. When everyone else was staring unconsciously at the television or chatting on the phone with whomever for hours, her mental escapades took place deep within the forest accompanied by her trusty four footed pal.

Together they would travel to mystical lands with fairies, shadowed people and monsters who lived within the tree tops and amongst the bush and who were always eager to hear the crunching of footsteps through the forest that would awaken and disrupt their silent and invisible worlds. Ever changing, ever welcoming.


Because it felt like home. It felt like she belonged. It felt more normal than the everyday doldrums of life that surrounded her.  Because even with all the monsters, witches, and creatures with crazy names that she encountered, it was less scary than having to deal with the ‘real’ world and all the humans living there with their outrageous expectations to act normal. It was just too much to believe that this was what it was, this is all it was.

And now for the H.

How: Spending her entire life trying to figure it all out, she continuously got it wrong.  Every decision, every encounter, every misunderstood occurrence, she just didn’t get it. Though she tried to curate some understanding of how to deal with life through song and with that brought some moments of nurture that she so longed for.  It was a place that felt familiar.  The creative energy that would enable expression and help expel her utmost inner thoughts and battles. It could all be felt within a song or the hum of a musical note. But then it all stopped.  It was replaced by whimpers and cries of baby angels she called her own.  And for a while she felt like this was home.

Well, until they began to grow and she was left with that empty feeling again.  She had poured every ounce of herself into loving and caring for them that she lost who she was beginning to find.  The echo of emptiness inside was maddening, although they still needed her to cook meals and put them to bed, she was a perfect example of what a human shell was.

The imaginary trips to wooden mystical lands were no more, the music that had kept her going was silenced and the whimpers and cries of her beautiful brood didn’t sooth her inner turmoil anymore. She had no place to hide from the ‘real’ world and so she began to crumble.  She fell so deep within her fragile shell that at any moment she felt as if she would break but with a push in a direction that she had only flirted with nearly more than twenty years ago, she picked up her first pencil and found a scribbler then wrote down her first word, her first sentence and her first complete thought in a life that would welcome her open armed and without judgment.  It was her world now and everything that existed within it only existed because of her…she was finally home.


Now I know this is a long winded story and a story that really, has just begun.  Not knowing where it will go or what will become of this girl is a mystery.  But as long as she can write and tell stories of fairies, shadow people and monsters that have names she hasn’t decided on yet, she will be whole. She will be unafraid and she will belong, protected from the world with outrageous expectations to be normal—as long as she knows how to spell ‘dream’.

With five ‘W’s’ and an ‘H’.

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