Hello blog friends,

Today Colleen Chesebro posted a new poetry challenge. Interested writers are invited to use the painting by George Henry Boughton, Lady of the Snows, as inspiration. This form of poetry is called Ekphrastic poetry. 

Studying the image, I'm drawn to the lady's expression. How about you? What do you see in the painting? I've tried to capture my reaction in a simple haiku. Maybe you'd like to add yours? It would be fun to share.

Have a wonderful week and bundle up. It seems winter hasn't left us yet. 

Hello blog friends.

Today I'm honored to host friend and author John W. Howell. He is on a book tour, and my site is one of his stops.

Most of you know, John. He's widely visible in the blog world, and he's an accomplished writer. I've known him for years, so it gives me special delight to introduce him and his writing achievements to you today. Let's offer John a very warm welcome.                                                                                      ~ ~ ~​
​I am so pleased to be with you today, Gwen. I want to thank you for helping spread the word about The Last Drive. I think it is no secret to your readers that you and I co-authored a book together. During that time, I got to know you better and appreciated just how much you empathize with those who are in trouble. In this story our characters are called up to help a soul who is struggling to find his way in eternity. Sam feels very strongly about being able to help and at times has her own struggles with how to best do that.

BLURB
In the sequel to Eternal Road - The final stop, Sam and James are reunited to look for two souls, Ryan and Eddie. Ryan was killed in Afghanistan, trying to avoid a schoolyard with his crippled plane. Eddie Rickenbacker, Ryan's hero, is to guide Ryan to his Eternal Home, and now both are missing.

The higher-ups believe that there has been some interference in Ryan and Eddie's journey by Lucifer, so Sam and James have the task of finding Ryan and Eddie to get them back on the road despite the evil interference. Unfortunately, the machinations designed to prevent Ryan and Eddy from completing their journey takes the pair to horrifying testing grounds. The places visited represent the best work of the Devil. They are the trenches of World War I in France, gladiators at the Roman Coliseum, the sinking Titanic in 1912, Hiroshima 45 minutes before the bomb, and the Auschwitz concentration camp in 1943.

This book is for you if you like plenty of action, strong characters, time travel, and a touch of
spiritual and historical fiction. So, join Sam and James as they try to find the missing souls while
staying one step ahead of the Prince of Darkness, who is determined to destroy all that is good.

​EXCERPT
Slight pressure, as if they’re rising in an elevator too fast, settles on Sam and James. Then
comes a soft bounce as though the Olds has gone over an unexpected speed bump. Sam opens her eyes, thrilled to see the LA Coliseum rise above them. “Look, James. We’re in the parking lot of the Coliseum.”

James gapes. “Wow. Beautiful.”

“I know.” Sam pops the door and moves to get out. “Looks like we landed in a reserved
spot.”

James thumps the wheel. “Figures. We’ll have to shift the Olds. I could see someone having
it towed away and leaving us here in nineteen-sixty-seven.”

Sam slides in and shuts the door. “Okay, drive until you find a regular bay.”

“It shouldn’t be too difficult. The original Super Bowl wasn’t a sell-out.”

“Really? Why not?”

James checks around. “Some believed the twelve-dollar ticket was too high. You know how
much the tickets are now?”

“No idea.”

James rubs his fingers and thumb together. “Minimum four-thousand dollars. Those twelve
bucks look quite good.”

“With inflation, it would be higher.”

“Yeah, maybe to ninety-five or a hundred dollars. So, what’s our game plan?”

“Walk to the stadium and check to see who’s at quarterback for Green Bay.” Sam gets out of
the Olds, comes around the front, and heads toward the Coliseum.

James exits the car and shields his eyes from the sun while he admires the beauty of the
Coliseum. The crowd noise makes him want to catch up with Sam so they can talk. He does a
double-time step, and when he reaches her, says, “So, we’re just going in there to check it out?”

“Do you have any better ideas?”

“No. … I know, I know. Then, shut up.”

Sam can’t keep from laughing. “You said it, not me. Okay, here we are.”

James steps in front of Sam. “Wait a minute. We don’t have tickets.”

Sam waves for James to get out of her way. “We can move ahead a few seconds and see
ourselves inside the gate.”

“Oh, yeah, that worked before. Let’s do it. Here, hold my hand. I’ll do the timing.” Sam
grabs James’s hand, and they both close their eyes.
​
James and Sam arrive inside. The ticket taker has no idea. James asks, “So, what now?”

PURCHASE LINKS:
The Last Drive is available in paper and Kindle editions on Amazon. Here are the universal
links. The Kindle edition is on sale for 99¢ through mid-February.
Kindle https://mybook.to/FYmkKr
Paper https://mybook.to/BCsWV
​
AUTHOR LINKS:
Blog     Facebook     Twitter     Goodreads     Amazon Author’s Page     BookBub  
Eternal Road Buy links:
Kindle Universal link  mybook.to/EternalRoad
Paper universal link mybook.to/Eternalroadpaper

Hello blog friends,

If you're living in the Northern Hemisphere, I hope you're staying warm. This winter is proving to be a challenge, isn't it? Ice, snow, high winds, freezing rains. It seems we've had it all, and surely, there is more to come.

Perhaps with weather in mind, poet Colleen Chesebro offers a special photo prompt this week. She invited photographer Terri Webster Shrandt to share one of her images as inspiration. The beautiful blues stirred my imagination.

Shades of Silence -- I hope you enjoy it, maybe even relate to the sentiments.  

Have a wonderful week! 

Hello blog friends,

Author Colleen M. Chesebro posted a new #TankaTuesday challenge today. She asked that we use a synonym for new and experience in our poem. I played around with that idea a bit and created a tanka that suggests both. 

I hope you enjoy this lighthearted effort. ❤️ 

​Have a fantastic day! 

​Hello blog friends, 
​
On this first day of the New Year, I've decided to share a few prayers from religions that might express their understanding of life and the Divine quite differently than you. And yet, even if this is the case, I think you'll find the prayers familiar and inspiring. 

I begin with a story: Twelve years ago, I was fortunate to hear the Dalai Lama speak at the University of California in Irvine. The packed arena grew silent when the frail monk walked onto the stage. He smiled and chuckled and then began talking about - Love.  His microphone was faulty and it was difficult to hear him because he spoke softly. But the students roared their endorsement. It was then that I realized that it wasn't his words that reached them. It was him. 

We may not be monks, but each of us has the extraordinary gift of life. And we can be countercultural by risking love. Let's make 2023 a year of miracles. I suspect we're all weary of last year's struggles. Maybe a neighbor needs help or a child needs a storyteller. Small steps can lead to big leaps in transforming our world. I know this to be true, because the students showed me the possibility. ❤️

Happy New Year, dear friends! 

Hello blog friends,

Winter is upon us in the northern hemisphere, and yet it seems like summer was just last week. How did the months fly past so quickly? Though I don't have the answer, I want to share a theory.

For much of this year, various threats populated our days. Breaking News warned us of dangers real and potential. Because of this, I think the miracles of life often slipped by unnoticed. If you check your calendar, I suspect you'll find all the must-dos that kept you busy. At least that is how my calendar looks. What you won't find, probably, are the miracles. I think it's time for us to claim them. 

I've walked back through my year and rescued some of the miracles. I'd like to share a few of them with you, and I'd love to know some of yours as well. Here goes...  

​This simple exercise shifted my thoughts from the latest catastrophe to the beauty that surrounds us all. I hope you enjoyed the highlights, and I also hope you'll share some of yours. We all need to pause and consider the wonder of life. Let's do it together.

My simple New Year's resolution is to intentionally claim 2023 as the Year of Miracles.  ❤️

Happy holidays, dear friends!

Through the simple poem below, I try to capture the gratitude and respect I hold for each of you. Your stories and blogs have transformed the year. Thank you.❤️

I'll be traveling this coming week and will miss visiting your blogs. But on the upside, I'll be reading some of the many books buried in my kindle. Hopefully, yours is top on the list. 

Blessings to you and yours. I hope you stay healthy -- and warm. The forecast is for chilly weather, so let's bundle up.  ❄️☃️❄️

​Hugs,
​Gwen

Hello blog friends, 

Our neighborhoods shine brighter every day with outside lights and colorful decorations. Spirits grow happier as the holidays approach. It's that time of the year, and Andy Williams says it better than anyone: the most wonderful time of the year. 

If you're like me, you want to be with family. I live a long flight away from my adult children. Phone calls bring us close, but not close enough for a hug or three. In the absence of immediacy, though, I've discovered an expanded family. 

You are the reason for this new definition of family. Most of us have never met (and never will), and yet, we claim one another as friends, because the written word has brought us together. When we read, we weep, celebrate, fall in love, dance, dream, and sometimes scream. It sounds like a family, doesn't it?

Today I share a few, and only a few, of those whom I now recognize as family. I've spotlighted eight books that earned five-stars from me this year, and I'd like to share them with you. 

Harmony Kent's Sorrowful Soul ripped open my heart and brought me to tears. Jill Weatherholt's Searching for Home helped me see all that is beautiful in life. D.L. Finn's A Voice in the Silence drew me into the forest and mystery. Pete Springer's They Call Me Mom warmed my heart immensely and gave me hope for our children. The anthology Distant Flickers kept me turning the pages wanting more. Dan Antion's The Evil You Choose revealed the choices of a hero and those of the deceitful. D. Wallace Peach's The Necromancer's Daughter exposed good and evil and left me in awe of the story itself. Mae Clair's and Staci Troilo's The Haunting of Chatham Hollow brought the past into the present powerfully, via a generational mystery. 

Family? I think so. When our kindles are full, so are our hearts. Thank you, all, for being part of my reading family.

I hope your holiday preparations go perfectly. And I hope you and your families (near and far), find time to be with each other. May gratitude and laughter abound! Happy Holidays to all. ❤️

Hello blog friends, 

Today I have the privilege of introducing author Harmony Kent and her most recent publication, Sorrowful Soul. I've read many of Harmony's award-winning books. She writes through her heart, and in so doing, she reaches ours. 

Harmony's background is unique. She was a Zen Buddhist monk for thirteen years. That experience provides the foundation upon which she faces life's challenges, including a horrific life-changing injury. 

​I never was a monk, though I am familiar with that way of life. For five years I frequented Zen Buddhist temples, joining other contemplatives longing for a deeper experience of the Divine. I mention this because Zen Buddhism isn't a religion; it is a philosophy, a way of life. At the close of my meditations, I went home. The monks remained and lived in that quiet setting full-time. I can only imagine the culture shock Harmony must have experienced when she left the monastery. 

I have deep respect for the monks I knew. Their kindness guides me still. When I met Harmony through her blog and her books, I found a sister, a friend, and a mentor. She is a teacher without a title, and a writer with a powerful voice. She deserves the spotlight and more. 

Please join me in welcoming Harmony Kent. ❤️

 ​Hi, Gwen.
 
Thanks so much for hosting me today.
 
It’s always wonderful to visit with you.
 
Here’s a little bit I’d love to share about my latest book of poetry, Sorrowful Soul.  Full of freestyle poems, which provide company and compassion through the devastating journey of grief and loss and onward, this heartfelt collection shows us we do not travel this lonely road alone.
 
The cover for Sorrowful Soul depicts a Calla Lilly, which comes in many colours, holds much symbolism, and finds itself called upon for both weddings and funerals and many occasions in between. This beautiful Lilly is well known for crying—where water droplets form on the petals—and this phenomenon inspired my design for the front cover.
 
The wonderful, versatile Calla Lilly has truly caught my imagination. Do you have a particular flower that speaks to you? If so, chat with me in the comments.

ABOUT THE BOOK:
 
If we’re lucky, we meet twilight at the front door and old age creeps in on the night breeze.
 
Even if we make it to our twilight years, the more we age, the more loss we must endure as part of the cycle of life. Many of these poems lament death, but they also relate to broken relationships, severed friendships, and the loss of youth. This book of grief poetry is as much about saying goodbye and working through loss as it is about death and love split asunder.
 
This heartfelt collection provides company and compassion through the devastating journey of loss and shows us we do not travel this lonely road alone. Within these pages we share shock, numbness and denial, catapult into anger, bargaining, depression, loneliness, and guilt, and—eventually—make the seismic shift into testing the possibility of a new normal and finding acceptance.
 
 
Universal Sales Link:  https://mybook.to/SorrowfulSoul
​
​Book Trailer: 

Hello blog friends. If you celebrated Thanksgiving this past week, I hope you enjoyed family, friends, and plenty of good food.

My celebration was twofold and very different from prior Thanksgivings.

​First, my adventurous sons returned safely from a two-week trek to Patagonia, Argentina. Their 24-hr flights to and from were challenging but their journey more than made up for that inconvenience. They had an amazing time. And ... this mom is very thankful they are home.

​Second, the washing machine broke. The water seeped under the flooring into the closet and our bedroom. We initially could not understand why the carpet was so wet. Spilled water? Then we feared the worst. Burst pipes? After several hours of worry and search, a friend came to our aid and identified the culprit. 

I was immensely grateful that all we needed was a new washing machine. The thought of digging for a broken pipe was horrifying, but buying a new appliance, well that could be fun--and was. Friends pitched in by lending us their fans, and now we have dry carpets and baseboards AND a new washing machine.  

Since this is the final Tuesday of the month, Colleen Chesebro asks that we share our day via a poem. I've done so through a tanka. I hope you enjoy it. We all have so much to be grateful for, even with our unexpected hurdles. 😊

Have a wonderful week! 

Hello blog friends, it's #TankaTuesday, and author Colleen Chesebro has a new Ekphrastic (photo) prompt. She asks that participants choose a syllabic form and create a poem about the image. 

My poem is a tanka, a simple 5-line form (5-7-5-7-7), and it is my response to the photo of the Ukrainian dolls below. 

Have a wonderful week, dear friends.
In the United States, we prepare to celebrate Thanksgiving.
David's photo above is all the more poignant because
the children in Ukraine are not able to join us for the table feast.

For peace, I long. For peace, I work. For peace, I pray.
May we all, someday soon, celebrate as a family. 
❤️ 

Today is Veterans Day in the United States, and I'd like to share a personal story. 

In my pre-retirement years, I worked at a college in southern California near the Marine Corps Base Camp Pendleton. Many returning servicemen enrolled in classes. They went from the warzone of Afghanistan to a privileged setting of lattes and frisbees. The culture shock was profound.

These young men, and a few women, had no place to gather, and they clearly needed each other. I turned my office suite into a Veterans Center and took a small office. Soon the place was bustling.

What I didn't expect was how transformative this experience would be for me.

Firsthand I saw the impact of war. Physical, mental, and emotional. I heard and saw things that broke my heart, and slowly these brave young people became family. I've many stories, but there is one I'd like to share with you today.

An Army Ranger veteran came to me. He looked like a Hollywood movie star, but below his exterior, he carried experiences few could imagine. He explained that he had been promised an education, but at the college he was considered a non-resident. This meant his classes would cost a fortune. He said, "I don't know what to do. This is my only home. I have no other. Why must I pay out-of-state tuition when non-citizens are considered residents?"

He was not being political. He simply stated facts. I met with college officials and did what I could, but ultimately, this young man returned to Special Forces. He explained, "It's something I do well, and I can't make it here. I don't have the funds I need to take classes."

This encounter disturbed me greatly. No matter which country we call home, if we expect our young people to defend our country, we have an absolute responsibility to help them transition back into civilian life at the end of their tour. 

I wrote to many California elected officials and met with a couple of them. Before I retired, I believe the law was changed, and veterans in California are now given residency. I hope I am not mistaken. 

The young men below are a few of the veterans who made my office their campus home. 

Veterans Day for me is an emotional experience. It is not a nationalistic day, not a day to say my country is better than yours. No. It is a day to honor those who innocently decided to give their lives to serve their country's ideals. 

When asked how many veterans are homeless in the U.S.A., PolicyAdvice.net states, "A precise count is almost impossible to make, yet, according to estimates, over 40,000 veterans are homeless on any given night..." 

​​In the United States, we give hotel suites to illegal immigrants. We offer them food. Why aren't we demonstrating that same respect to our veterans? 

Today I honor all those who wore the uniform. And I ask veterans to forgive us if we've walked past you on the street and offered not a coin. Forgive us if you are unemployed and need help. Forgive us if we've forgotten our obligation.  

Hello blog friends. As I write, it's election day in the U.S.A. Most folks are on edge, wondering how the votes will swing, and if there will be a huge backlash. I've never seen our country this divided or this contentious. For most of us, it's a heartbreaking era.

Hoping for the best, whatever that might mean, I have a poem to share. This week author Colleen Chesebro asks writers to compose a Kouta poem. Never heard of it? I certainly hadn't, but here's a bit of history.

Kouta is an ancient Japanese form, used by the geishas during the 14th through the 16th century. It remains popular in Japan today and typically follows a 5-7-5-7 or a 7-7-7-5 syllabic structure. The focus is usually on everyday circumstances.  

My poem is a bit escapist. I'm hiding from the news and anyone wanting to talk about current events. I've chosen to be a bit dreamy in this poem, following the second syllabic structure mentioned above. 

I hope you enjoy it. Simple. Sweet. My answer to chaos...

Have a lovely week! ❤️

Hello blog friends,

I am elated to host best-selling author Diana Wallace Peach today. Her newly released fantasy, The Necromancer's Daughter, has garnered over 35 5-star reviews, and that includes my own.

She is a prolific and disciplined writer, with 20 books and 5 anthologies, and a multitude of breathtaking poems. She lives in Oregon's rainforest in a log cabin. Is it any wonder that she writes fantasy? 

Please join me in welcoming Diana with a big ​ CONGRATULATIONS!

​Thanks, Gwen, for having me over to your beautiful blog.

You write lovely poetry, so I decided to write a poem for the post today.  In the past, I’ve tried to pen a poem that summarizes the theme of a book or encapsulates the core of its plot or the message I wish to convey or the question a story poses.

This poem is about the questions underlying my characters’ choices and the answer they discover at the end.

I hope you enjoy it. Thanks again for welcoming me to your blog and introducing me to your visitors. Happy Reading!

Blurb:
A healer and dabbler in the dark arts of life and death, Barus is as gnarled as an ancient tree. Forgotten in the chaos of the dying queen’s chamber, he spirits away her stillborn infant, and in a hovel at the meadow’s edge, he breathes life into the wisp of a child. He names her Aster for the lea’s white flowers. Raised as his daughter, she learns to heal death.

Then the day arrives when the widowed king, his own life nearing its end, defies the Red Order’s warning. He summons the necromancer’s daughter, his only heir, and for his boldness, he falls to an assassin’s blade.

While Barus hides from the Order’s soldiers, Aster leads their masters beyond the wall into the Forest of Silvern Cats, a land of dragons and barbarian tribes. She seeks her mother’s people, the powerful rulers of Blackrock, uncertain whether she will find sanctuary or face a gallows’ noose.

Unprepared for a world rife with danger, a world divided by those who practice magic and those who hunt them, she must choose whether to trust the one man offering her aid, the one man most likely to betray her—her enemy’s son.

A healer with the talent to unravel death, a child reborn, a father lusting for vengeance, and a son torn between justice, faith, and love. Caught in a chase spanning kingdoms, each must decide the nature of good and evil, the lengths they will go to survive, and what they are willing to lose.
​

Purchase Links:
 
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Hello blog friends!

Today author Colleen Chesebro invites us to create a syllabic poem with a specific color in mind. Her #TastetheRainbow challenge prompted me to focus on yellow. 

In northern Arizona, at elevations exceeding 5,000 feet, temperatures have dropped, and leaves are falling. My vegetable garden is now mulched and bare of its bounty. I stripped tomato and zucchini roots, took down the bean vines, and tilled the ground. Somewhere in that mix, I decided to add an additional raised bed. That sounds easy, doesn't it?

The picture below is my new raised bed. To create it, I took away 2 wheelbarrows of ​rock, pieced together metal siding, and then added enriched soil and mulch. Sore? Mightily. But I'm ever so proud to see the result. 😊

My Tanka - 

Have you begun preparing for Spring? I'd love to know. 💛

Hello blog friends,

Today I'm hosting writer Jan Sikes as she celebrates her latest publication - Saddled Hearts. Jan shares a tidbit of the story below and offers a special incentive -- a scavenger hunt with a $25 Amazon Gift Card as First Prize and a free eBook for the second prize. 

​Please join me in welcoming Jan and wishing her all the best by offering a big shout-out:

​CONGRATULATIONS!
​

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Hello blog friends, I've got a new poem to share. Writer/poet Anita Dawes selected the theme for this week, and it is: what you wish for. 

The poet master, Colleen Chesebro, often encourages budding poets to stretch and learn different poetic forms. With her urging in mind, I decided to write a choka poem. I had never heard of this form before today, so you are my test readers. 😊

Choka is a Japanese story-telling form of nine lines with this syllabic format: 5-7-7-5-7-5-7-7-7. There are a few variations of this form, but the one I've listed is the one I'm using.

My choka is a prayer and a story. I hope you like it.  

I hope you have a wonderful week!  ❤️

Hello dear blog friends.

​Today I'm at Story Empire discussing an unusual subject with author John Howell -- writing Different-Than-You Gender Characters. In our current woke environment, we tackle this complicated topic and invite discussion. Won't you stop by for a visit? You can do so here. 

Have a great day! 

Hello blog friends!

I hope your week is going well. In my part of the world, it's time for harvest. I share my crops of zucchini, tomatoes, and pumpkins with the local food bank because there are only so many veggies my hubby and I can eat. It's been a fun process, and now I'm planning for next year. 

As the temperatures fall, I become a bit nostalgic. Do you? My poem reflects that sentiment through a new form. This week Colleen Chesebro asks that we create a poem following the specific syllabic form of the Troiku. Writer Kerfe Roig selected this form and explains it on her site. Basically, it is a haiku from which the rest of the poem is created. Each line of the first poem begins the following poem. It's a little complicated, but I gave it a try. 

Have a wonderful week and enjoy the October change of seasons.  🍂🍁🍂