Blog Archives

Dancing in the moonlight

4/30/2021

Author Colleen Chesebro offers a new poetry challenge this week. Interested poets are to choose a flower and explain why it is special to them -- using a syllabic form.

When I was 19, I transferred to a university in San Francisco. To my surprise, daffodils were everywhere present. Venders sold them on the street corners, and the yellow blossoms blanketed vast areas in the parks. I fell in love with them, and to this day, they are my favorite flower. I've tried to capture their magic in my tanka poem: Dancing In The Moonlight.

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The Dust Bowl

4/20/2021

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Hello friends! I've another poem to share.

Every third Tuesday of the month, author Colleen Chesebro invites writers to respond to a photo prompt for their Tanka poem. Author Anita Dawes provided the one below. If you don't know Anita, please consider visiting her blog site. She's an extraordinary poet.

When I saw the photo, I was brought back to my childhood. My father grew up during the great Dust Bowl, and he'd often share stories. As frightening as these stories were, I was also entranced by the courage and determination of the people. Severe poverty and the unrelenting winds of dust left them bereft of all that we consider essential to life.

My Tanka poem (5-7-5-7-7 syllables) is simply called THE DUST BOWL.

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Writing Styles: Extroversion and Introversion

4/19/2021

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Hello friends. Today I posted on Story Empire and focused on personality types and writing. If you haven't already visited, I invite you to join the discussion. Here's the beginning of the post:

My husband and I are regulars at Panera Bread. With masks on and social distancing practiced, it’s a setting where we relax and chat about the latest crisis of the day. Whenever we go, I’m amazed to see a number of writers tapping away on their laptop – while music plays and people converse six feet away. It’s these writers who prompt my post today.

I’m fascinated by those who can write amid storms of any kind. These Panera colleagues sit with their coffee and breakfast roll, and when their phone rings, they laugh freely and enjoy the brief exchange. After goodbyes, they’re back to writing – unfazed. And when someone walks by, they often look up and say hello, and may even chat a bit before they return to tapping.

I marvel at these unknown writers, because they do what I cannot do.

I need silence when I write. I need to focus on the story that tugs at me. If a phone call disrupts my train of thought, when I return to writing, I must reread what I written and start over again. The same is true if my husband stops by to tell me about the woodpecker outside. I enjoy the excitement, but before I start writing again, I must reread what I’ve written and start again. This pattern is an integral part my day. Starts and restarts. But somehow the writers in Panera aren’t affected in the same way.

To read more, just click here.

Have a great week!

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Author Joan Hall is on tour!

4/15/2021

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Author Joan Hall

Hello friends, it is my delight to particpate in author Joan Hall's book tour. A wonderful friend and excellent writer, Joan has some great news - her latest short story is now on Amazon. You'll find links below for following Joan and for purchasing House of Sorrow.

Author Mae Clair posted a 5-star review:
This short read is set mostly in the 1960s and serves as an introduction to the author’s upcoming Madeira series. Ruth Hazelton and her husband, Lee, have just moved into a beautiful old Victorian home. Lee has accepted a job as Madeira’s new police chief and the world is looking up for them.

Ruth is a wonderful character. Social and outgoing, someone who quickly establishes herself as a friendly face in her neighborhood and community. I particularly liked her friendship with her neighbor Sam. He’s a bit of a curmudgeon, opinionated, but highly likeable at the same time. He also believes in curses. It’s through Sam that Ruth learns several of her new home’s former residents died unexpectedly. The history of the house is a mystery that serves to open the door for Hall’s series.

I’d be remiss if I didn’t mention the way the author wove events from the 1960s into the story. Some are delivered via journal entries from Ruth, others through narrative and dialogue. As someone who has long been fascinated by that time period, those references were highlights for me.

It’s a pleasure to visit with you today, Gwen. Thank you for hosting me and allowing me to tell your readers about my latest release.

House of Sorrow is a short-story prequel to my upcoming novel Cold Dark Night, book one of the Legends of Madeira series. It’s the story of Ruth Hazelton, a reclusive older woman who lives in a two-story Victorian house in the fictional town of Madeira, New Mexico.

Ruth reflects on her life, particularly when she and her husband Lee first moved into the house. It begins as she nears the end of her life. She reflects Ruth reflects on her life, particularly when she and her husband Lee first moved into the house
Most of the scenes occur in the late 1960s/early 1970s, so I used actual events in the story. I also drew on a few of my memories from that time.

One of the biggest stories of the late 1960s was the Apollo space program. If anyone visited C. S. Boyack’s site on Tuesday, I talked about Ruth’s neighbor, Sam. He’s friendly, but a bit crusty and set in his ways. He believes in curses and doesn’t think America should be involved in going to the moon.

Today, I’m sharing two short excerpts that take place in December 1968 when the first manned Apollo mission orbited the moon. Sam’s words about the moon turning to blood came from something I heard a man say after the launch of Apollo 11.

EXCERPT:

Lee wasn’t as comfortable in crowds as Ruth, content to stay in the background. He spent most of the evening talking with several of his officers. Everyone was in high spirits, not only because of the Christmas season, but because NASA had launched Apollo 8 that morning—the first manned spacecraft on a planned mission to orbit the moon. Needless to say, it was the topic of several conversations.

“Looks like we’re going to beat the Russians, after all.” Juan Garcia was one of Lee’s officers.

“When President Kennedy made the statement about putting men on the moon before the end of the decade, I didn’t believe it. Now it’s about to happen,” Lee said.

Sam was quick to interject. Ruth had known he was very opinionated about certain subjects. Tonight, she learned the space program was one of them.

“We’re not there yet,” he said. “We shouldn’t be messing around in the heavens. The moon is God’s business, not man’s. It’ll probably usher in some cataclysmic event.”

Ruth usually remained quiet and let him ramble, but she couldn’t resist speaking up this time. “Come on, Sam. Surely you don’t believe that.”

“I most certainly do! It wouldn’t surprise me one bit to look up and see the moon has turned into blood. Mark my word. Something bad will happen. Just wait and see.”

A few days later…

History had already been made earlier in the day with the first lunar orbit. Now, everyone watched in awe as the ship rounded the moon and the Earth came into view. Much like a waxing gibbous moon in shape, the blue and white color of the planet stood out among the blackness of space.

“Wow!” Tim’s enthusiasm was evident.

“What I wouldn’t give to be in the astronaut’s place right now,” Glenn said.

Ruth glanced toward Sam, who opened his mouth to speak, but he was hushed by a poke in the ribs from Millie.

Everyone grew silent as Astronaut William Anders spoke. “We’re now approaching lunar sunrise, and for all the people on Earth, the crew of Apollo 8 has a message we would like to send to you.”

Anders, Jim Lovell, and Frank Borman took turns reading from the first chapter of Genesis.

“In the beginning God created the heaven and the earth. And the earth was without form, and void; and darkness was upon the face of the deep. And the Spirit of God moved upon the face of the waters. And God said, Let there be light: and there was light. And God saw the light, that it was good: and God divided the light from the darkness…

“And God called the dry land Earth; and the gathering together of the waters called he Seas: and God saw that it was good.”

Borman ended by saying, “And from the crew of Apollo 8, we close with good night, good luck, a Merry Christmas, and God bless all of you—all of you on the good Earth.”

At his words, even Sam bowed his head in prayer.

BLURB:

Dream home or damned home?
Ruth Hazelton is over the moon when her husband Lee agrees the nineteenth-century Victorian in Madeira, New Mexico, is the perfect home for them. While he starts his new job as police chief, she sets about unpacking and decorating.

But it’s not long before Ruth needs more. She becomes a fixture in the community, making time for everyone, volunteering, hosting events—she’s every bit the social butterfly her husband is not. Through her friendships, she learns several former residents of her home met with untimely deaths. If she were superstitious, she might fear a curse, but such nonsense doesn’t faze her.

Until the unthinkable happens.

Now, as the end of Ruth’s life draws near, she must find a way to convey her message and stop the cycle to prevent anyone else from suffering in the house of sorrow.

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A Grandma's Delight

4/13/2021

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Hello friends! Author Colleen Chesebro posted another poetry challenge, asking for submissions using synonyms of the two words, SEARCH and LOST. If you go to her site, you'll find loads of information and encouragement: Tanka Tuesday Poetry Challenge #221 Synonyms Only.

I've chosen to write a Tanka poem of 5-7-5-7-7 syllables and selected a photo of my precious granddaughter. I hope you enjoy.

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Harmony Kent is on tour!

4/12/2021

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Hello friends, please join me in welcoming author Harmony Kent. Most of you know her through the breadth of her writing. She's an accomplished novelist and poet, and a great blogger as well. Most importantly, Harmony is an extraordinary human being and a very dear friend to many. We join her today to celebrate the publication of her newest book, The Vanished Boy. It just hit Amazon's shelves, and Harmony's going to tell us about it.

Congratulations, Harmony. Take it away ~

Hi everyone. Harmony here. Thanks so much, Gwen, for letting me visit with you today. I'm so thrilled to share the launch of my latest book with you all.

The Vanished Boy is a mystery suspense novel based around a teenaged boy, who's gone missing. The book follows the mother as she trawls through her missing son's online life and realises, to her horror, how out of the loop she's become.

The inspiration for this novel came from watching a number of movies based on how our lives both revolve around and are influenced by the Internet and mobile devices. Although these movies covered many genres such as murder/mystery, thriller, and the supernatural, they all centred around the same theme: Apps and living life online. This led me to ponder how many of us spend our lives in digital pursuits rather than physical—both the old and the young? For many people, their actual physical lives become but a shadow compared to their online existence.

Mostly, the shift to a digital world happens slowly. It's incremental and, too often, insidious. All of which led me to ask how well do we actually know our children? Our loved ones? Those around us? What might be going on in the shadows?

From that inspiration and questioning, this story was born. Much of life and our actions originate from the same needs and wants: to be loved and accepted, the ability to differentiate between truth and lies, and the things we do to cover our mistakes and make ourselves look better than the reality instead of owning who we are. The good, the bad, and the ugly.

Below is an excerpt from the book:

Her mouth gapes wide, and she can't stop breathing in. A wheezy-whistle follows the air down her trachea and into overfull lungs. She does this kind of backwards scream thing. It won't stop. Carole slaps a cold hand over her mouth and grabs her mobile with the other. No matter how hard she stares and wants and needs, she can't make a reply materialise on the screen.

At last, right when she thinks she's going to suffocate, she manages to breathe in. Only a short heave, but it's something. She stands in the middle of the kitchen and gasps and pants. On wooden legs, she stumbles to the junk drawer and rummages until she finds the old brown paper bag. She hasn't needed this thing in years.

Each in and out breath refuses to work without her voice going with it. A weird moaning noise fills her ears, along with the wheezy whistle she's developed. When she raises the bag and shoves it against her lips, her hand shakes. The bag smells and tastes stale. Blackness narrows her vision. It's no good passing out right now. She has to get a handle on this.

Author Bio

After spending around thirteen years as an ordained Buddhist monk, living in a Zen Buddhist temple, and six years after a life-changing injury following a surgical error, Harmony Kent returned to the world at the tender age of forty.

Now, she is famous for her laughter, and has made quite the name for herself … she’s also, um, a writer … and fairly well known for that too. She’s even won a few awards. Harmony lives in rural Cornwall with her adorable husband, ever-present sense of humour, and quirky neighbours.

Harmony is passionate about supporting her fellow authors.

Links

Website: https://harmonykent.co.uk/
Story Empire (co-authored): https://storyempirecom.wordpress.com/
Amazon Author Page: author.to/HarmonysBooks
Twitter: @harmony_kent
Goodreads: Author Page
BookBub: https://www.bookbub.com/authors/harmony-kent

The Vanished Boy Sales Link: mybook.to/TheVanishedBoy

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Times Square Tanka

4/12/2021

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Hello friends, today I'm sharing my response to author Suzanne Burke's Fiction In A Flash Challenge. This week's prompt is a black and white image of Times Square in New York City. The only color in the photo prompt is a yellow cab. I've centered the photo onto another image of that same area prior to COVID 19.

My contribution is a tanka poem. If you've traveled to the City, you know the vibrancy that it once had. I deeply hope that life returns, and I also hope you'll join in the fun and write your response to this incredible prompt.

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A haiku -- Two Hearts

4/6/2021

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Hello friends, I'm sharing a poem today. Author Colleen Chesebro invites interested writers to post a weekly response to her prompts. This week the challenge is a poet's choice - any syllabic poetry form that you’d like. I've decided to submit a simple Haiku, sparked by thoughts of lifetimes of choices.

Please join the fun. Just click on Colleen's name, and you'll be taken to her site. 💗

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