Thursday, April 30, 2026

The Dirty Thirties by Eden Monroe

 


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 The Great Depression of the 1930’s was an event that changed the world:

Says The Canadian encyclopedia.ca:  “The Great Depression of the early 1930s was a worldwide social and economic shock. Few countries were affected as severely as Canada. Millions of Canadians were left unemployed, hungry and often homeless. The decade became known as the Dirty Thirties due to a crippling drought in the Prairies, as well as Canada’s dependence on raw material and farm exports. Widespread losses of jobs and savings transformed the country. The Depression triggered the birth of social welfare and the rise of populist political movements. It also led the government to take a more activist role in the economy.”

The romantic suspense novel, WATCHED is set in this time period (1932) in Eastern Canada, where like most places, jobs were scarce. Many men, transient due to loss of employment, were prepared to accept whatever remuneration might be offered to them in payment for a days’ hard labour. Such was the case with Shay McGregor, an out-of-work coalminer, introduced to Cherry Orchard Farm owner, Rietta Nicholson. He needed a job. She needed help with the farm:

“’There’s certainly plenty to be done around here, but I can’t afford to pay wages. I can only afford to feed you. I have a good supply of food so I can promise you they’ll be appetizing, nourishing meals.’

She’d need lots of food to feed this tall rugged looking man. He had to be six feet tall or more, and sturdily built.

Shay smiled and it was something he did especially well. ‘It’s tough all over and I’d be grateful for three square meals a day and a roof over my head.’

Rietta smiled too, pulling a regretful face. ‘I’m afraid I don’t have much to offer in the way of a roof.’ She pointed toward the bunkhouse. ‘That’s the roof over your head. Nothing fancy, but it is clean. I’ve spent the afternoon taking care of that. That’s why I look like this,’ she added by way of apology. ‘I don’t usually receive guests in my overhauls.’

Shay chuckled and she liked the sound of that too, enjoying his good humour. All she’d had for company over the past four years was surly, insulting Edwin. Already Shay felt like the first sweet breath of spring. She had a gut feeling they’d get along, and she honestly couldn’t think of any more questions to ask him. She’d made it plain she couldn’t pay him, and he’d graciously accepted her terms. That, coupled with the Staffords’ good opinion of him, and her own, helped make up her mind. She could see no reason not to take him on.”

Many similar deals were struck during that desperate time, but what precipitated this dreadful economic situation in the first place? Again according to The Canadian encyclopedia.ca, it’s still debated among economists as to whether it was actually a specific event that sent the world economy into a tailspin. Many believe it was the 1929 Wall Street stock market crash; others point to the widespread drop in global commodity prices coupled with “sudden declines in economic demand and credit.” Of course those factors negatively impacted global trade, which in turn caused a dramatic rise in unemployment.

Canada’s prairie provinces: Alberta, Saskatchewan and Manitoba suffered the added debilitating burden of years of drought, grasshopper plagues and hailstorms, which resulted in crippling crop losses. The situation became dire before the Canadian government decided to provide even the most meagre aid for these destitute families. The shameful sentiment during that time, by those possessing the ultimate power as they sat wealthy and relatively unaffected by this humanitarian disaster, was that people should pull themselves up by their own bootstraps.

In the United States there was also widespread destitution: (Fdrlibrary.org)

“At the height of the Depression in 1933, 24.9% of the total work force or 12,830,000 people was unemployed. Although farmers technically were not counted among the unemployed, drastic drops in farm commodity prices resulted in farmers losing their lands and homes to foreclosure.

“The displacement of the American work force and farming communities caused families to split up or to migrate from their homes in search of work. "Hoovervilles," or shantytowns built of packing crates, abandoned cars, and other scraps, sprung up across the nation. Residents of the Great Plains area, where the effects of the Depression were intensified by drought and dust storms, simply abandoned their farms and headed for California in hopes of finding the ‘land of milk and honey.’ Gangs of unemployed youth, whose families could no longer support them, rode the rails as hobos in search of work. America 's unemployed citizens were on the move, but there was no place to go that offered relief from the Great Depression.”

Macintosh HD:Users:linda:Dropbox:PHOTOS:Depositphotos_89644266_XL.jpg

Located at the Franklin Delano Roosevelt Memorial in Washington, D.C., the “Depression Bread Line” sculpture is a prominent statue representing the Great Depression (Bronze by George Segal, 1991)

 

The effects of the worst economic downturn in modern history varied from country to country, with some recovering more quickly than others. According to Britannica.com: The British economy stopped declining after 1931 when Great Britain abandoned the gold standard, “genuine recovery” getting underway in earnest at the close of 1932. In Latin America it was late 1931 into 1932 as was the case with Germany and Japan (the fall of 1932); Canada and the US in early 1933, but in France true relief from a delayed severely depressed economy didn’t begin to happen until 1938.

Unemployment, on a scale never witnessed before the Depression era saw global belt-tightening cause a devastating effect on non-mainstream economies such as those in Latin America and European economies in Africa and Asia. Says Oerproject.com:

“Europeans had been using many of their colonies to grow cash crops like rubber, sugar, and coffee. Cash crops aren’t for local consumption, and they’re not necessities.

“West African rubber trees helped build the growing auto industries of Europe and North America. Pop quiz: What do people not buy when they’ve just lost their job and all their money? If you said ‘cars’ you are correct! So British and French colonies in West Africa (and Southeast Asia) suddenly found themselves with a bunch of rubber that no one wanted to buy. They couldn’t use it, sell it, or eat it.

“As cash-strapped consumers in the United States and Europe cut back on non-essentials like chocolate, coffee, cars, and diamonds, it was Latin America and the colonized world who paid the price. Tariffs were particularly harmful, but in addition, colonial governments tried to wring as much resource and tax value out of them as possible to benefit struggling European economies. Of course, colonized people did resist. Moses Ochonu, a historian of colonial Africa, details how Nigerians found methods to cope with economic decline and resist further colonial exploitation. Organized labor strikes and tax revolts directly resisted the increasingly harsh conditions. But some found other methods to escape or resist worsening laws and taxation. For example, Nigerian women started local textile businesses, and farmers turned their cash crops into food crops for local sale.”

The scars went deep for those who lived through The Great Depression and the grinding poverty of that time. They never forgot the necessity of being frugal. Self-sufficient farmers utilized bartering systems to survive this unprecedented crisis, and were therefore not as reliant on the strained (collapsed) cash economy. My grandparents grew what they needed on the family farm, and bartered fresh vegetables and meat for sugar, coffee/tea, flour, salt and spices. And the cotton bags those necessities came in, were cut up and sewn into a variety of uses, including clothing. Very little went to waste.

The comfortably well off were not as greatly impacted either, except those who lost fortunes overnight in the stock market crash. Nevertheless, everyone, both rich and poor alike, learned the valuable lesson about the tenuous nature of financial security.

At Cherry Orchard Farm, the cherry trees kept blooming and producing delicious fruit despite whatever crises might be going on in the world around them. Like murder for instance.

 

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https://books2read.com/Watched-by-Eden-Monroe

 

 

 

Wednesday, April 29, 2026

May Day Musings



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   https://itunes.apple.com/us/book/roan-rose/id1023558994?mt=11


A few days early, but here' we are on our way to May Day again! 

The older you get, the faster Time Flies! 

Long ago, my mother told me about the tradition of gathering flowers to bring indoors as a way to give thanks for the return of spring. Living in upstate NY at the time, spring -- and therefore flowers -- could be a bit iffy. I remember shivering in Sunday school in a summer dress when the weather turned feral and dropped a farewell load of snow on us once more, killing off the apple blossoms in our orchard with a horrible finality. 

During years when the weather cooperated and hung onto spring, it was fun to go out early before anyone else was up and gather daffodils, lilacs and apple blossom to make a bouquet. I remember having this somewhat conflated with Mother's Day, so I usually put the bouquet on the kitchen table with a handmade card.

As a Constant Reader, I soon learned that this tradition went far back into the mists of European history, and that Ostara was the spring goddess from whose name Easter was derived, along with her bird's eggs and rabbits. In the UK, of course, these are, more properly, the more graceful hare, a creature who sometimes nests in grass and leaves behind handy, ready made hollows which are later occupied by birds such as whippoorwills who raise their young on the ground.

It was fun, some twenty years back, to read "American Gods," and a little later, to see the series created from the book. This included a campy episode that included Ostara, these days manifesting as a southern belle, who piggy-backs her ancient earth resurrection onto the current fame of our much later Christian Jesus, who also resurrects around this time. Through the wonders of CG, her rabbits are everywhere, little spies, whispering secrets into her ears. My favorite part came when Ostara is provoked to anger, causing her to act out in the way our ancestors most feared, and blacken her lush surroundings with a shock and awe killing frost. 

Unsurprisingly, She isn't too happy with us this year--and why, when you look around at the weather data, should she be? Locally, we had several days of 70-80 degrees culminating in two that hit 90, which led to fruit trees blossoming, and my Chinese Chestnut to sprout a first flush of leaves. 

After we'd all gotten our shorts and tees out, Ostara did an about face. On two clear nights, she lobbed rockets loaded with frigid air, sending us into the low 20's, which froze everything that had just bloomed, including my tulips, solid. 

I foresee a poor apple harvest this year. I will continue to pray that my Chinese Chestnut can manage to set new leaves, because the original ones have withered. 

The book covers I've posted, all contain chapters whose events turn on May Eve and May Day, celebrations which came down the long years to the characters in these historical novels, and which have, in turn, been a source of pleasure to me.  

Happy Easter, Happy Spring, and Happy May Day--and St. Walpurgis Night too--if that's more your thing. 




~~Juliet Waldron

Tuesday, April 28, 2026

Hooking the Reader and Setting the Tone of the Story By Connie Vines #Hooking your reader, #ChapterOne, #Romance novels,

 Chapter One: Hooking the reader and setting the tone of the story




Chapter One, page one, has to hook the reader and set the story's tone. 

In some ways, the opening chapter has to work harder than any of the others. Chapter One is the one most writers agonize over the most. 

Begin at the point the story actually starts – or even after it’s started.

I like to begin with dialogue, followed by action. 

Make sure the opening sets the tone for the rest of the novel. 

Easy-peasy. 

Except when it isn't.

Tanayia--Whisper upon the Water. (historical YA novel). It was my first award-winning novel. I was also honored with a lifetime achievement award for my work on behalf of Native American Children.





While the use of a prologue is usually discouraged, it was a simple way to transport a reader into the past.

1868

The Governor of New Mexico decreed that all Indian children over the age of six be educated in the ways of the while man.

Indian Commissioner, Thomas Morgan, said, "It is cheaper to educate the Indians than to kill them".

1880, Apacheria, Season of Ripened Berries.
  
Isolated bands of colored clay on white limestone remain where the sagebrush is stripped from Mother Earth by sudden storms and surface waters. Desolate. Bleak. A land made of barren rock and twisted paths that reach out into the silence.

A world of hunger and hardship. This is my world. I am Tanayia. I was born thirteen winters ago. We call ourselves N'dee, the People. The white man calls us Apache.




On the lighter side.  "Who doesn't love a cowboy?"

Chapter One

Charlene hadn't told Rachel that she'd fixed her up with a cowboy, much less Lynx Maddox, the "Wild Cat" of the rodeo circuit.  Rachel sighed. She should have known. After all, Charlene only dated men who wore boots and Stetsons.






If you like your romance Cajun style, you'll enjoy this mix of short stories. 🐊

"Marrying off Murphy." Like all Cajun fairy tales, it began harmless enough. A match-maker 
 promises to turn a stuffy professor into a charming prince. So, why does the confirmed bachlorette suddenly wish she was dressed for the ball?

"Love Potion #9"  Watch what happens when you mix a traditional Creole woman with a fun-loving Cajun man and throw in a Voodoo Love Potion--stand back! The Louisiana Bayou ain't never gonna be the same!

"A Slice of Scandal". A producer finds herself embroiled in a mystery as hot as her Bayou Cooking Show. When an undercover cop-turned-chef shows up and dishes up more heat than a bottle of Louisiana hot peppers.  Can she prove her innocence before the real killer finds her? Or, will she become the main course in a murder trial?

"1-800-FORTUNE" Garlic hangs from the rafters, but this sexy Loupe Garou isn't looking for trouble or a cure for what ails him. What's a law-abiding werewolf to do when a gypsy woman shows up with mischief on her mind?  



To purchase or for sample reads of my novels:

BWL (publisher's site)  https://www.bookswelove.com/

AMAZON: Kindle, audio, print. (Canada or USA)

Or at your favorite online bookseller.

Happy Reading,

Connie






















 






















Monday, April 27, 2026

Why I write standalone books for my sci-fi series - by Vijaya Schartz


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Sometimes, you discover a novel and you like it, but you feel you are missing something, as it is part of a series, and you didn’t read the previous books. As a reader I found that frustrating.

I don’t want my readers to miss anything.

Another reason for writing standalones in series is that in each story there is a romantic element, and once the happy couple unites at the end, they may reappear later as secondary characters, but I need a fresh romance for the next story… and I like to write about a variety of different protagonists.

Consider my new series, The Protectors. In Book 1, Chi Warrior, my strong, disciplined, warrior heroine meets a handsome barbarian who shatters her preconceived ideas about the real world.

In Book 2, Chi Rebel, coming out in November 2026, the heroine is strong but flawed, making serious mistakes that could cost her life and cause planetary chaos… while the hero is a warrior monk in training.

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In the Chronicles of Kassouk, the alien planet with a human population evolves over the centuries, as each story features different characters, humans, aliens, and felines. From the prequel, Noah’s Ark, the story of how humans ended on the planet, to the conclusion, Snow Cheetah, when the planet is rediscovered by humans centuries later. Each book features a different couple in their struggle for survival, for human rights, freedom, and belonging.

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In all my series, the common thread is the setting, the world I created for each series. Whether it’s a Space Station like in the Byzantium series, or an alien planet, like in the Azura Chronicles and The Protectors, or a spaceship, like in the Blue Phantom series.

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Only for the Curse of the Lost Isle, a fantasy series following a family of gifted immortal ladies throughout the centuries, do the same main characters reappear in different books… as they did in history, according to Celtic legends.

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Happy reading!

Vijaya Schartz, award-winning author
Kick-butt Sci-fi Heroines, cats, romantic elements
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Saturday, April 25, 2026

Your own maple sugar shack’s priceless payback calculation by Jeff Tribe

 Your own maple sugar shack’s priceless payback calculation


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 I was raised on my father’s tales of maple syrup making, the old-school way.

Gathering tanks mounted on stone boats, pulled by horses who would stop and wait as their humans filled pails from handheld brace-and-bit bored taps, hard-boiling eggs for lunch in the roiling sap, making taffy on the snow with darker, late-season syrup.

I’m not sure what he would have made of today’s vacuum pump systems, plastic lines carrying sap leading through reverse osmosis removing a good percentage of water before heading to boiling. I know at least one traditionalist who figures it alters the flavour, and I can see dad lining up with that train of thought.

He learned the craft as a young man with the Topham family outside of Burgessville, taking pride in what they considered the lightest early syrup from venerable hard maples on a high, sandy knoll.

My earliest memories were of repurposed honey pails hanging on trees at the end of our laneway, boiling on our second electric stove in what we called our utility room. It smelled delicious, but I can only imagine mom’s struggles while cleaning sweet sticky residue off the room’s walls.

Quite probably with her encouragement, we took operations outside, dad knocking together a temporary shelter out of plywood and two-by-fours over our barbecue pit. I seem to recall we did the preliminary boiling in a large steel square pan. Multi-purpose in that it also served, either concurrently or subsequently, as a container for cement when we mixed concrete. Dad would boil the raw sap until it showed ‘colour’, beginning to form in what I think of as ‘the large soap bubble’ stage before coming up in the final magic of tiny, caramel-coloured bubbles indicating syrup is just around the corner.

There are thermometers, the Internet telling me syrup arrives at 219 degrees Fahrenheit, but dad simply waited until it ‘flaked’ off his scoop, droplets coalescing after the final transition from thick sap to the real deal.

Our little operation went the way of the dodo as my uncle began syrup making on a larger scale a mile down the road. I made a comeback years after he had retired, a nostalgic return via propane powered turkey deep fryer. It was a break-even prospect at best, fuel costing as much as going to Jakeman’s, however my parents’ joy in eating the first draw of fresh maple flavour, still warm from the fire - two bites of syrup, one of bread-and-butter in the old farmers’ way - made it worthwhile.

The tradition passed with them, making yet another comeback with the arrival of grandchildren. Reluctant to lose a significant aspect of our cultural heritage, I picked up a barrel stove, stainless steel boiling pan - no cement allowed - and converted some used steel roofing, playground equipment and plywood into my own little sugar shack. The fact I’m tapping maples my dad brought along from saplings with selective forest management doesn’t hurt. I keep costs down, chain-sawing limb wood into stove-friendly lengths and reserving the deep-fryer for the final stage when temperature control is crucial. And did my best to hasten the payback period with a freelance article or two and magazine pictorial.

I have a habit of filling a taste-testing bowl directly beneath the strainer bag. My wife likes it on top of ice cream, a Canadian salty caramel version in particular, but I kick it old school, without the bread.

Definitely at the peak of its flavour potential.

In reality, it’s a loonie, maybe toonie-per-hour payback at the best of times. But of course, that doesn’t take into account the quiet knocks of grandchildren - and their father - happening to stop in for a ‘taste of the last batch.’ Or the ones on a European tour lining up a feed of Grandma Tribe pancakes and gampie syrup on their return.

It may not make full sense to the accountant in the family.

But it’s hard to put a price on that.


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