Hello blog friends,
​
Today author Colleen Chesebro invites us to create a poem using select random words. This approach is one that poet Jane Dougherty started last year. 

Random Word Poetry is new to me, but it was a fun exercise. I chose the words walk, touch, inhale, and bereave from the assigned list at the bottom of the page. I hope you enjoy it. 

My poem consists of a four stanza haiku. The first poem guides the following three, each of which begin with one of the lines from the first poem.  

Won't you consider adding your own poem? Here's the list of words. It may seem daunting, but once I started, the words flowed. 

I hope you have a wonderful week! ❤️

Hello blog friends.
 
I'm elated to showcase friend and author Joan Hall today. She's just published a collection of thirteen short stories entitled Menagerie. The assortment spans eras and genres, and the characters include the old and young. Truly, there's a story for everyone. 

If your life is like mine, time is elusive. Reading a complete story in one setting isn't possible, unless it's a short story. It's been a pleasure to pick up Hall's book, and read a story to its end before turning off the lights. 

My 5-Star review is posted on Amazon, where you'll find many other 5-Star comments. Menagerie is a winner, and I think you'll discover it to be as well.

Congratulations, Joan!

Gwen, thank you so much for hosting me today. I’m excited to be here and to tell you and your readers about my latest release, Menagerie. It’s a mixed-genre compilation of thirteen short stories. Each tour stop features a different story where I tell what inspired me to write it. Today’s feature is Hot August Night, a contemporary/family fiction/coming of age story.

If there’s one thing I’ve learned in the years I’ve been writing, it’s to always keep notes of story ideas. They often come at the oddest times and in the most unusual ways. Such was the case with the idea behind Hot August Night.

When I still held a public job, my drive home went through a tiny town with a population of around 500 people. As you can imagine, there wasn’t much there, but railroad tracks ran alongside  the state highway that passed through the town.

I’ve always had a fascination with trains, and it was probably a hot August afternoon, when inspiration struck. I imagined a couple of people sitting on a porch on a hot summer night when a train passed through town. The noise of the engines and sound of the train cars along the track drowned out other night sounds. Something happened in those few minutes, but what was it?

Once I got home, I made notes, not knowing what I wanted to do with the story or when I would use it. When I decided to scrap another story originally intended for this collection, I looked over my list of potential stories and Hot August Night was born.

Written in first person, the story follows a young woman, Amy Beth, who has returned to her hometown for her grandmother’s funeral. While there, she remembers another hot August night when she was thirteen years old. A teenage girl disappeared, right about the time a freight train passed through town. Amy Beth has reason to believe her older brother, Denny, was involved.

This leads to a strained relationship between the two of them. Their grandmother was the glue that held the family together. Now she passed away, Amy Beth is uncertain what will happen with her brother.

Like some of the other stories in this collection, Hot August Night takes place in the twentieth century. It begins in 1980, then flashes back to 1968. Somehow, I couldn’t see setting it in modern times. By the way, Amy Beth often sneaks into her brothers room to play his records. I used to do the same thing with my brother’s collection.

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!