Alaska, adventure in my fiftieth state, by Diane Scott Lewis

 

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Five stars from Long and Short Reviews
"I enjoyed guessing what may happen next and then comparing my assumptions with what I actually read. Paying close attention is key to getting the most out of Sage’s adventures.
Secrets of Lakeluster House thrilled me."

But today's post is about my trip to Alaska, a mysterious land to the far north. I didn't know if I could do it, I'd recently lost my husband and have mobility issues, but my best friend was a huge help-I couldn't have done it without her-and we had the adventure of a lifetime. I'd been through forty-nine states, I just needed Alaska.

Our cruise began in Seattle, Washington. Neither of us had cruised before.

The ship was huge, with over eleven decks. On our second day out, the sea became rough, and my friend seasick. I'm surprised I wasn't sick at all. A good sailor's wife, I guess. Though I couldn't walk anywhere without being bumped against a wall.

Juneau was our first port, a town tucked in among glaciers. You can't access it by road; plane and sea only, because of the miles of surrounding glaciers. The reason it remained the capital is that millions of dollars of gold was discovered here. 

It rained, heavily at times, so I got no picture of the town. Here is the port. 

It's a beautiful frontier town with friendly people. I splurged and bought myself a ruby ring for my birthday.

Our next stop was Sitka, on an island, and where Russia handed over Alaska to the U.S. in 1867.

Russian church in Sitka. Another beautiful town. We also visited a cannery where salmon is processed. Sitka calls itself the Salmon capital of the world.

We were supposed to see black bears, but they were obviously in hiding. That's okay; I've seen black bears in my front yard in Pennsylvania.

Our last port was Ketchikan. We visited a totem pole park, and learned about Alaska's indigenous people.

Later in the cruise, we anchored in Glacier Bay National Park, an amazing sight and site.

Here we are at Glacier Bay.

Along with the service on the ship, the delicious food, I recommend this cruise to anyone. Ask for a cabin with a veranda. It doesn't cost that much more and it lets so much light into your cabin. Plus, you can sit out if you dress warmly.

Now I'll get to work on my paranormal set in California.

                     

Diane lives in Western Pennsylvania with one naughty dachshund.

Time travelling backwards...by Sheila Claydon

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Many a Moon was my last book. It was also the final book in my Mapleby Memories trilogy. For a lot of reasons I haven't written anything since then, so when I said I had an idea and was ready to start again, my BWL publisher was very supportive. And when I explained that actually I wanted to edit and rejig an old, unpublished manuscript, which shouldn't take too long, she offered me two dates for publication: February or December 2026. 

I've written a lot of books and as this one just needed editing, I chose February. Far better to work to a deadline I told myself. If you say December you'll let it drift, thinking you have all the time in the world to finish it. Besides, in the summer family will be visiting from overseas, the garden will need attention, and, if it is as hot as last summer, you'll want to sit in the shade, not sit indoors with your nose in a manuscript. Far better to work through the cold, wet winter months. So far, so good.

Now, however, at two-thirds of the way through retyping the manuscript, I find I have given myself something of a challenge. The story is fine. The facts are fine. It's just that it is set in the 1980s when times were very different.  So I have had to make a decision. Do I update it or do I add it to my 4 Retro books already republished by BWL?

The further I have been working through the manuscript, the more Retro has won out. Firstly, I'm old enough to remember what life was like in the 1980s and I have to admit I'm enjoying the trip down memory lane. Secondly, the story is about a composer and her journey towards writing music for film.  Of course, because this is a romance, there is also a music arranger who works with her. In the 1980s, however, they worked very differently.

When I wrote the book I researched it thoroughly (the hard way, pre Internet) and I'm glad to say, having checked it out all over again, that the facts have held up. What makes it almost impossible to update, however, is how much the music and film scene has changed since then. It's almost as if it's an entirely new industry. Digital audio workstations, virtual instruments, sample libraries, remote collaboration - even the language is different from the days when tape machines, live orchestras, hardware synthesizers and handwritten scores were the order of the day,

Today, film directors can hear near final versions early in the process, whereas in the 1980s music was mainly composed on paper so they often had to imagine the final result via piano demos or rough tapes. This was a time devoid of cell phones let alone iPhones and computers. A time before dating sites when meeting someone outside your immediate circle and falling in love was a happenstance. A time when letters were written, and when landline phone numbers were dialled on heavy handsets. A time when gender roles were more traditional and miscommunication more common. Truly a different age.

Joanne, the heroine, has to fight to escape society's expectations before she finds success. Something that wouldn't happen nowadays. She also has to negotiate falling in and out of love when everything has to be face to face. No ghosting. No texts. She has to be brave.

When it is published, I hope you will read it and enjoy it. 1980 is probably too recent to be considered an historical novel but it sure is different from the modern day. Travelling back in time can be challenging but it can also be interesting and fun.

AND THE SURVEY SAYS … by Renee Duke

  

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Writing for teens requires an ability to remember how the adolescent mind works. One example: their attitude towards adult ‘probes’ into their inner feelings disguised as school surveys. High schools sometimes get students to complete questionnaires about individual learning styles, and while some questions might have relevance, most fill kids with an urge to answer them something like this:

Q. Before starting an unfamiliar task, do you prefer to have someone tell you the proper way to do it?

A. As opposed to wading in without the vaguest notion and doing it all wrong, yes.

Q. Do you think it’s important that a teacher understand the subject he or she is teaching?

A. Now there’s a plan.

Q. Do you frequently like to have the significance and interdependency of supplemental graphs and diagrams as they relate to concepts addressed in the corresponding texts or lectures explained to you?

A. I think I’d like to have the above question explained to me.

Q. Do you write out your notes in paragraph form, or make graphs and charts, to help you understand concepts better, even if the teacher doesn’t require you to do so?

A. You’ve got to be kidding.

Q. Would you rather copy notes off the board or work with hand-outs?

A. Photocopy machines were a wonderful invention. So were highlighters.

Q. What do you think it means if you doodle in your notebook during class?

A. It usually means I’m bored.

Q. Are your notes covered with circles, arrows and other symbols?

A. Yes. Even though, by the following day, I have no idea what they mean.

Q. If you sit near a classroom window, can you be distracted by what’s going on outside?

A. Depends if watching two crows square off over a walnut is more riveting than Pythagoras’s Theorem. (Answer: yes.)

Q. Do you find it easier to think when you have the freedom to move around?

A. The school rather frowns on students wandering the halls because they’re ‘thinking’.

Q. Do you often tap your foot or pencil when you’re thinking?

A. Doesn’t everyone?

Q. Do you get restless if you have to sit still for an extended period of time?

A. Doesn’t everyone?

Q. Do you enjoy studying English literature? A. The operative word is ‘English’. Things like, “Bifil that in that seson, on a day,” no longer qualify as English.

Q. Do you read for enjoyment?

A. I don’t have time to read for enjoyment. I’m too busy reading assigned downers like Wuthering Heights and wicked wastes of paper like The Metamorphosis.

Q. Do you have trouble spelling unknown words when writing an essay?

A. If they’re unknown, how would I know to use them?

Q. How much do you enjoy giving presentations in class?

A. I wasn’t aware it was supposed to be enjoyable.

Q. Do you find it difficult to accept views opposite to your own?

A. No. The world is full of ignorant people. One has to have tolerance.

Q. Do your parents have to nag you to do your homework?

A. I don’t know if they have to. I think it’s pretty much automatic.

Q. Do you resent it when teachers who have taught your older brothers and sisters have high expectations of you?

A. Having taught my older siblings, they generally don’t have high expectations of me.

Q. Do you find it difficult to set goals during teacher/parent/student conferences?

A. My parents have usually made it pretty clear what ‘my’ goals are going to be.

They don’t–or at least, shouldn’t–answer that way of course. They’d be put down as maladjusted and made to do six more questionnaires designed to figure out why.

Transitions by Nancy M Bell

 

To find more of my work please click on the cute dog cover above.  

As November trundles it way along toward the end of another year, separated only by the depths of December from yet another turn of the wheel, I start to think of the transitions in my own world. The sharp green exuberance of those years between, oh say, six and fifteen. Those years when the whole world lay ahead of me and I could be whoever or whatever I could dream about. The security of not having to worry if there was going to be food on the table for supper and a roof over my head. My only responsibility to care for my cat and my garden in the summer. All the golden and glorious opportunities that lay just beyond that border of almost a grownup but not quite. It relates to the Celtic cycle of Maiden, Mother , Crone. Oh, and wasn't the Maiden part of the journey glorious. More so than I realized at the time as I was always yearning forward, impatient to move on- to get there. Wherever 'there' was at the time.

The years between fifteen and twenty were interesting. Remember that Chinese curse? "May you have an interesting life." It seems that a female teenagers middle years are full of angst and strife. You're in between a child and an adult. Not quite old enough to truly understand some of the ramifications of some dubious decisions, but not young enough to excused on the basis of innocence. In a sense those teen years were a journey on innocence lost, but also a vast wealth of growth and a faint grasp on maturity. That being said they were good years, full of horses and friends and silliness. Midnight raids on horseback to the surrounding cornfields and later in the year the apple orchard. Riding in the moonlight, gathering in the stables until all hours secure in our little circle of yellow light cast from the barn. I learned that love could be transitory and words didn't always mean what they seemed to. First love, that real first encounter that comes after the tender throes of puppy love are left behind and you venture in the realm of more adult relationships, can be wonderful and devastating at the same time.

Leaving the Maiden years behind, I moved into the Mother stage at a fairly young age. Though not when I was married in 1977. You were expected to get married have kids. Which I did, but also continued with my work with horses which I loved. I don't think the Mother stage ever really ends, even when those kids are older than I was when I had them they are still my babies and I worry over them. Another stage of growing supposedly wiser and smarter. Hmmm. 

As I approach the last year of my sixties, I reflect on the transitions in my life. The lost of my dad and then 8 years later of my mother. Whether we realize it or not, our parents remain an anchor in our lives, our north star or lodestone, and when they are gone if left me feeling a bit rudderless. But now, I take on the role of anchor for my kids, although I'm sure they don't see it that way. I remember when I was about to turn 20, that was the most meaningful birthday. I would never be a teenager again. It was time to grow up. (or so I thought- there was still a lot of growing to do). Now as I near the seventh decade in my journey, I am still looking forward and reaching for the next adventure. I guess being a Crone does not necessarily mean I can quite growing and maybe, just maybe, actually achieve some semblance of maturity. Life if full of transition, big and small. Just as the seasons change and revolve, so too do our lives. What is that Macdonald Carey says on that soap opera? "Like sands through the hour glass, these are the days of our lives."

Until next month, stay well, stay happy     

A Piggly Wiggly Angel, by J.C. Kavanagh

 

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Never-have-I-ever heard of 'Piggly Wiggly.' 

We were docked in Port Royal, South Carolina, on our months-long journey from Georgian Bay, Ontario, through the U.S., with the Bahamas as our final destination. Provisions in the fridge, freezer and dry locker were diminishing which meant it was time for a trip to the grocery store. Staff at the marina informed us that the Piggly Wiggly was our best bet.

My partner Ian laughed out loud. I followed suit.

The staff member appeared puzzled. "What's so funny?" he asked.

We laughed harder. 

The staff member was not amused. I curbed my laughter and said, "We're looking for a place that carries 'provisions' for our boat - not piggies."

That, of course, began another round of laughter.

The staff member finally smiled. "Now I get it," he stated. "You Canadians don't know what Piggly Wiggly is, do you?"

"Is it a piggy farm?" 

He raised one eyebrow and rolled his eyes as if to say, "those duh Canadians."

And never-would-I-ever have suspected that Piggly Wiggly was, in fact, a grocery store!

My curious mind had to know more information about Piggly Wiggly. Wikipedia was quite helpful in providing its history. 

Did you know that:

• Piggly Wiggly was the first "self-serve" grocery store, opening in 1916 in Tennessee. Before this time, customers would bring a grocery list to their preferred store and a clerk would collect the items. The concept of a "self-serve" grocery store changed the industry world-wide.
• Piggly Wiggly was also the first to introduce check-out counters (cashiers).
• when asked why the store was named Piggly Wiggly, the founder explained, "So people will ask that very question."
• Brand recognition surged with the hands-on approach, while competitive marketing strategies increased customer demand. Self-serve introduced and encouraged 'impulse buying.'
• By 1932, Piggly Wiggly's annual sales totalled $180 million from 2,660 stores.
• In 1935, the franchise was split and sold to a number of regional grocery chains.
• Also in 1935, 179 Piggly Wiggly stores across Canada were sold to Safeway, which, decades later, merged with Sobey's.
• There are 503 independently owned stores in 18 states, as of 2024.

The original Piggly Wiggly grocery store, circa 1918.
Customers entered through a turnstile and browsed through four aisles. 
Customers had a choice of 605 items!

So, you might ask, what's with the blog title, Piggly Wiggly Angel?

I'll tell you.

Ian and I were in the bread section of the South Carolina Piggly Wiggly and I came across a package of corn bread. I picked it up, curious. I've never eaten corn bread and I was surprised by the weight of these six pieces. Motioning to Ian, I said, "Let's try it!" He declined, saying that six pieces was 'too much' for just the two of us. The employee in the produce section, I'll call him Mr. Jones, overheard my comment and came over to offer his opinion. First of all, he welcomed us to the Piggly Wiggly and offered to help us find items on our grocery list. Secondly, he couldn't believe that we'd never eaten corn bread, and was just as surprised that we hadn't experienced the popular side dish of 'grits.' We told him we were sailors from Canada and explained that corn bread was something that wasn't offered in most grocery stores back home. At least, not where we live in central Ontario. He appeared rather sad with my explanation. We continued our conversation and shared that Ian's retirement enabled us to pursue our dream of sailing to the Bahamas. 

"Oh, how wonderful," he said softly. "I'll be 65 next year and my dream was to take my wife on a fishing trip."

"Well," I responded, "Next year then?"

He shook his head. "Not without her. She passed in February."

Oh oh oh - my eyes welled with tears and my body shivered with sadness. His emotion was palpable. I didn't know how to respond, other than the standard "I'm so very sorry for your loss."

He nodded and left us. I had to take a moment to collect my thoughts. Sometimes you have to hear someone's misfortune in order to appreciate your own circumstance.

Ian and I continued with our shopping, only to be stopped minutes later by 'Mr. Jones.' In his hand was a white grocery bag.

"You can't travel through South Carolina without eating our famous corn bread," he said, placing the bag in our cart. "Enjoy it. And each other."

That's why I call him the Piggly Wiggly Angel. Sometimes a random interaction will prompt a true introspection of your life. I am grateful for meeting Mr. Jones. 

In The Twisted Climb trilogy, an ephemeral character appears in the darkness, inviting the teens to ‘cross over’ to the dream world and the un-World. Is he an angel, or a ‘Protector’ for Jayden, Connor and Max? What say you?

Stay safe and as I always say at the end of my blog, don't forget to tell the ones you love that you love them :)

 

J.C. Kavanagh, author of
The Twisted Climb - A Bright Darkness (Book 3) Best YA Book FINALIST at Critters Readers Poll 2022
AND
The Twisted Climb - Darkness Descends (Book 2) voted BEST Young Adult Book 2018, Critters Readers Poll and Best YA Book FINALIST at The Word Guild, Canada
AND
The Twisted Climb,
voted BEST Young Adult Book 2016, P&E Readers Poll
Voted Best Local Author, Simcoe County, Ontario, 2021
Novels for teens, young adults and adults young-at-heart
Email: author.j.c.kavanagh@gmail.com
www.facebook.com/J.C.Kavanagh

www.amazon.com/author/jckavanagh

Instagram @authorjckavanagh

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