Sunday, September 20, 2020

My Book Club reads Her Vanquished Land by Diane Scott Lewis

Last month my Book Club drank wine at a winery in Western Pennsylvania and discussed my historical novel, Her Vanquished Land, which was that month's pick. I was honored when the Wine Lady suggested it when we made our year's list.
Here's the novel blurb:

In 1780, Rowena Marsh decodes messages for the British during the American Revolution. When the rebels overrun her home state of Pennsylvania, she flees with her family. Are the people loyal to England welcome anywhere in the burgeoning United States? Rowena struggles with possible defeat and permanent exile, plus her growing love for an enigmatic Welshman who may have little need for affection. The war might destroy both their lives.

But when I sat down to face the women present, I wondered if they'd liked it, disliked it, thought I was brilliant or a hack.
Here were the comments:

"I thought the story of the Loyalists and Patriots paralleled today's government situation. Stay in the system and fix it or change to a new system."

"You really painted the historical picture, everyday things, and the bigger picture of the war."

"Use of Welsh was well done."

"I loved the Welshman."

"Rowena was a strong, intelligent heroine, who also questioned the system and why the two factions were fighting."

"Made history come alive! And I loved the Welshman."

"The two aunts were opposites, one frivolous, the other steady; I liked how the frivolous aunt showed her bravery in the one instant she needed to, banging a thief on the head with a teapot."

"The history was well done and fit right into the story, not overwhelming it."

One woman, a head librarian, said she loved my cover, very striking.

When I asked for any negative comments:
One woman said she'd read another book where the author used long sentences, and coming to mine, the sentences seemed choppy. But once she got into the story, she liked the structure and the fast pace.

I hope they weren't being kind to not bruise my feelings, but my novel seemed a triumph. It was good to get so many outside opinions on a novel I labored over.


To purchase my novels, and my other BWL books: BWL

Find out more about me and my novels on my website: Dianescottlewis

Diane Scott Lewis lives in Western Pennsylvania with her husband and one naughty puppy.

Saturday, September 19, 2020

My Grandmother, Maw by J.Q. Rose

 

Terror on Sunshine Boulevard by J.Q. Rose

Rescuing a naked woman lying in a geranium bed? Investigating mysterious murders? These are not the usual calls in a Florida retirement community for volunteer first responder Jim Hart.

Click here to check out more of J.Q.'s mysteries published by BWL Publishing.

Grandparents Day in the USA

Welcome to the Books We Love Insiders Blog where BWL Publishing authors offer insights, updates, excerpts, behind-the-scenes in writing their books and interesting topics for you to ponder.

Last Sunday in the US, we celebrated Grandparents Day. When it first became a national holiday in 1978, greeting card companies and florists got the credit (or the blame) for it. That is not the case. A thoughtful West Virginia woman who wanted to honor grandparents organized the first celebration in 1953 in her state. 

I was in the florist business in 1978 and we welcomed another holiday to promote flowers--and sales! It never really became a big observance. In fact, my kids and grandkids never realize it until AFTER the day! But they do remember me all year, so that's okay.

Today I am sharing a piece to honor my grandmother, Maw. She was the one who spurred me on to be a writer. Perhaps this writing will spark memories of a grandparent or of someone who took on that role for you. Take a few minutes to write down some notes or an entire essay about the memories you recall with your grandparent and share it with your family.  Perhaps this will inspire you to write more about your life and share it with friends and family members. You can do it!

My Grandmother, Maw by J.Q. Rose

My grandmother is the large lady in the middle with her husband (my grandpa who passed before I was born), sisters, brother and niece

Beulah Lee, yes, she’s my mother’s mother, was a schoolteacher. She loved reading and especially loved reading her Bible. She’s the one who pointed out many verses to me and directed me to the Lord’s Prayer in Matthew 6.

 Maw, as she was called by our family, was an intelligent woman who was stubborn as could be. When she made up her mind to do something, she did it and there was no stopping her. She and my father held loud “disagreements” quite a few times.

 She wasn’t exactly a warm, cuddly, mushy kind of grandma who made cookies for every visit. But she did love to sew and made several doll outfits for my beloved Ricky Jr doll on her foot pedal sewing machine.

We had a special connection and not just because we loved to shop. (When her social security check came in, she cashed it into small bills and stuffed it in her wallet. She delighted in showing me the stack of cash she had for us to go shopping.)

We both were readers. Her reading probably spurred my love of reading which in turn developed my desire to write stories for others to read. I began writing little stories when I was in second grade and developed a writer’s bump on my middle finger from writing constantly. (Anyone else get that bump?)

By seventh grade I decided to tackle writing my first novel. The storyline was about a horse and a girl due to my love of the book, Black Beauty. I wrote the entire book on lined yellow tablet paper and showed it to Maw. Taking those awful scribbles of sentences and typing them into a manuscript became her major project.

 Her blue eyes sparkled with excitement when she handed me the typed pages. I almost cried. I was overcome with the idea she had “published” my book for me. I was thankful for her taking the time to work on this manuscript.  She got a kick out of my reaction, but she also loved the story and encouraged me to write more stories for more people to enjoy. From that day forward, I knew I wanted to tell stories and have them published so I could share them with readers.

 I wish Maw were here now to be a part of this writing experience. Somehow I think she is with me with her blue eyes shimmering with pride.

####


Arranging a Dream by J.Q. Rose coming in January 2021

In the introduction about Grandparents Day, I mentioned I was in the florist business. If you are interested in what goes on behind-the-scenes in a floral shop and greenhouse operation, check out Arranging a Dream: A Memoir to be released in January 2021 from BWL Publishing. This is the story about pursuing our dream to be entrepreneurs in the floral industry. 

That challenging first year is recorded in the book-- the ups and downs, the doubt, the guilt, the funny, the sad, the joys and wins. Were we a success or a failure? Sorry, I can't tell you that--no spoilers here!

####

 Click here to visit JQ online. 


Happy Autumn Season! Be Safe. Be Well.


Favorite Things by Helen Henderson

Windmaster by Helen Henderson

Click the cover for purchase information


Greetings from Tennessee. I am Helen Henderson and pleased to be the newest contributor to the BWL Blog. Since it has been some time since I was a guest here, I thought I'd take the opportunity to introduce myself. A question often asked a writer is when did you first put pen to paper. I won't state the number of years but will just say I've been a storyteller of some shape or form for quite a while. Another authorial hat that is worth mentioning are the local histories and the collection of feature articles under my byline on a wide range of topics including military history and weapons,  archaeology, and antiques. Throw in some museum work and I blame my background not only for a focus on fantasy, but for making the worlds come alive.

Which brings me to the covers from the fantasy romance series, the Windmaster Novels. I love the impression of action and adventure they present. (Special thanks to Michelle Lee for creating them.) I have sailed (notice, I said sailed, not crewed) on a sailboat. And the desert temple inspired by Petra in Windmaster Legacy calls to the historic side of my soul.

There is another story set in the world of Windmaster, however I've stayed with Windmaster and Windmaster Legacy for two reasons. Both deal with the tales of Captain Ellspeth and the archmage, Lord Dal. Their adventures continue in October with the release of Windmaster Golem where a new generation takes over the task of saving the future of magic.

To purchase the Windmaster Novels: BWL

~Until next month, stay safe and read. Helen


Find out more about me and my novels at Journey to Worlds of Imagination.  

Follow me online at Facebook, Goodreads, Twitter, Website.
Helen Henderson lives in western Tennessee with her husband. While she doesn’t have any pets in residence at the moment, she often visits a husky and a feisty who have adopted her as one of their pack.


Featured Author S. L. Carlson

 


     This is S. L. Carlson, and I am pleased to be a BWL Publishing Inc. author. My books can be viewed and purchased by visiting https://www.bookswelove.net/carlson-s-l

    I have hiked mountains, worked farmlands, and swum in oceans, but best love the woodlands, lakes and rivers, where my settings take place. I have taught grades K-8, along with a multiple other jobs, but anything to do with outdoor adventures is me. While sitting alone in an autumn, I may or may not have been witness to magical creatures.

   War Unicorn: The Ring is the prequel to the three books of The War Unicorn Chronicles. In it, we learn that while removing a dead tree root, how Aldric (aka Rick) first encountered Neighbor, the war unicorn, in an enchanted ring:

 

He sat on the edge of the dug-out trench and kicked at the trunk with both feet. It wiggled, like his little sister Mercy’s, loose tooth. He stood and shoveled another load. Something clinked, and then glinted red in the shovelful of dirt. Aldric picked up the tiny silver box with a silver circle attached. He slipped his finger through the circle. It fit perfectly. Embedded on the lid were three red tear-shaped stones. He spit on it and rubbed the box-ring on his shirt. The gems sparkled in the fading sunlight. His family had never owned anything so grand. He wondered if people in a city like Nimrock wore jewelry like this. Perhaps he could go to there to trade it. The ring was legally theirs, for no one had owned this field before them, except for the king. Maybe they could buy another field with it.

Aldric stuck it in his pocket and pointed at the root. “You will come out.”

This was taking too much time. He flexed his biceps, after two days’ worth of muscle-building from this root, it was time for it to go. The quickest way would be to set the short trunk and root on fire. Unfortunately, the sky was empty of clouds to draw down lightning. That was really a good thing, because his father might cease any more spell-casting lessons if rain clouds suddenly started disappearing, a sure sign magic was afoot.

Fire. He clapped three times to get the attention of the natural elements around him. Little puffs of smoke floated away from between his hands. Calling out their rock family names, Aldric pointed to seven stones, his hand moving to the rhythm of his voice. He continued pointing and singing, directing them like a grand conductor of the choirs of old. Snap. Snap. Snap. Snap. The stones struck against each other. Tiny sparks flew from the encounters.

Aldric sang out in his off-key voice, “You’re going to burn. Ha-ha.”

Stones danced toward the tree root, clashing together and producing more sparks. The root finally caught fire. Aldric put the rocks back to sleep and smiled. He sat cross-legged by the crackling flames, enjoying the warmth on his face while the coolness of the earth soaking into his trousers.

A pulse beat within his pocket, like a heartbeat of a bird. He drew out the ring and held it to his ear, listening. He shook it. His own heartbeat quickened and then slowed to the same rhythm of the ring. He took out his knife and jimmied the lid, flipping it open on an unseen hinge.

Suddenly, the flanks of a white horse appeared. Aldric rolled into the dirt pile to escape the flying hooves. The animal ran about ten paces and then spun, lashing out with its powerful hind legs. She was a beautiful horse, with perfectly formed muscles, but if fire could flare from an animal’s eyes, Aldric felt certain it could come from this one. She looked angry enough to pull the tree root out with her teeth.

Something protruded from her forehead, a long thin branch. Was she hurt? It made her look like a unicorn from one of his mother’s hearth stories.

It’s okay, beauty.” Aldric made a reassuring clicking sound.  “I’ll get that out for you.” He waved his hand and sang a calming song. His cracking voice couldn’t calm a boulder, but he sang anyway.

As her front hooves touched the ground, she bounced back up, head down, branch pointing at Aldric. She charged at him.

Startled, he rolled out of the way. He looked over his shoulder for another assault, afraid the dangerous creature might run at his sisters near the house. But she was gone, vanished as quickly as she appeared. She wasn’t toward the river, or close to the north woods. He scanned the apple orchard near their house. Nothing unusual.

Aldric released his breath, and then breathed in softly as he listened to the land. His fire crackled and wind whispered through dried grass in the field. He could barely hear the Red River rapids in the distance. Perhaps his older sister, Sasha, saw the horse come her way. She spent a lot of time down there lately. Aldric listened harder. The breeze rustled leaves in the orchard, where Mercy and Baby Ann were singing to the trees. Their voices were worth listening to.

Something was missing. Birds. Birds always chirped and flew close to the orchard. Aldric would have thought the whole white horse incident was merely his imagination if not for the silence of the birds.

Then, just as quickly, the birds started up again.

Aldric blinked. “How peculiar.”

The red gems on the closed ring glinted from the orange blaze. It must have closed when he rolled away from the horse. Aldric opened the lid again. In another rush of wind, the white horse reappeared and kicked out with her hind legs. She leapt, barely clearing the flames at the last minute. She turned, snorted, and stomped large front hooves. Her ears lay flat against her head as she stared at him from the other side of the fire. The horn, he was sure it was a horn now, flickered orange. She stood still, breathing heavily, fire in her eyes. Or perhaps that was just the reflection. Aldric extended his arms and re-sang the calming song. The unicorn seemed to cringe. She stared at his finger with the box-ring.

Carefully watching the beast, he held a finger over the open ring top. As Aldric shut the lid, he heard a mournful cry.

 “Noo!”

The unicorn disappeared.

Aldric held the ring to his ear once more. He couldn’t hear the pulse, but he sensed it. Did the animal shrink and live inside the ring? He’d just take a peek.

As he lifted the lid, she appeared, ran the same ten paces as before, spun and kicked out. The mare glanced around, and then shot Aldric an irritated look. She trotted in a circle around the fire and him, bucking and shaking her head and mane. Her muscles rippled with power. The thin spiraled horn, not quite an arm’s length long, looked threatening. Aldric didn’t take his eyes off of the unicorn as she circled, then stopped. He wouldn’t give her a moment to disappear on him again. Aldric took a step closer. The creature retreated a step. She kept a steady distance from him, as if an invisible tether bound her.

 “You don’t want to be here, but you’re not running away.”

The unicorn looked left and right as if contemplating that very thing.

 “Here I am, thinking out loud as if you understand me. I think I shall call you ‘Flame.’”

The unicorn blew out between her lips.  “Bbburr. I think I shall call you ‘Stupid’,” she replied.

 

 

       To read more of Aldric and Neighbor’s adventures in battles and magic, be sure to check out my BWL Inc. Publisher Author Page at https://www.bookswelove.net/carlson-s-l

And for tidbits of unicorn fun, see my S. L. Carlson blog and website at https://authorslcarlson.wordpress.com

Friday, September 18, 2020

Dead Dogs Talk New Release from Nancy M Bell



For more information on Nancy's books click the cover above.

I'm excited to share with you the latest installment in The Alberta Adventures. The Coal and his band of wild horses are still safe, but now Laurel finds herself embroiled with a dog fighting ring after she and Carly come across an injured dog while out riding. Of course, bad boy Chance, Carly's brother is in it up to his neck trying to prove to his ringleader dad that he's tough enough to earn Daddy's approval.

As in Wild Horse Rescue, there is an underlying message in the book. Dog fighting rings and puppy mills are a real evil and they exist world wide. It is a horrible and reprehensible activity. The animals involved have no voice, other than their unheard cries for help and comfort. We must be their voice and we must speak loudly. Don't by cute puppies from pet stores that aren't supporting local rescues by featuring only rescue animals for adoption, don't buy off local see pages on the internet.

The inspiration for Dead Dogs Talk came from a very real event that a friend relayed to me. She was out riding her horse with a friend along a grassy pathway and they came across a very skinny dead dog tied to a tree by a ratty rope. The dog was obviously ill treated, with scars and wounds and the nails on the paws so long they curled under. Clearly the dog had been caged and not allowed to move normally as the condition of the paws made that painfully evident. She was most likely a used up victim of a puppy mill. No way to identify her or an owner, of course. And frankly, the authorities weren't interested and washed their hands of it. Sadly, even if there had been a way to trace the person or persons who dumped this girl, chances are the charges would have been thrown out of court, if things even got that far. At best, the perpetrator would have gotten a slap on the wrist a small fine. Even if they had been court ordered to not be in possession of any animals, there is no organization that monitors that. Many of those who are under similar court orders just move provinces or totally ignore the order and carry on. There is little or no follow up.
I give my injured dog a happy ending and the discovery of a microchip in another dog leads to the group responsible. In effect, the dead dog with the microchip manages to speak out via the chip.

Please hold your furbabies close and love them. Don't let them roam, keep them safe.

The story isn't all gloom and doom, so don't despair. Laurel ends up volunteering at an animal rescue and she gets to ride her barrel horse Sam at the Canadian Finals Rodeo in Red Deer Alberta. Carly's brother Chance is maturing and starting to realize that his father isn't always the best role model. The last book in this series will be out next year and it will feature Chance and his struggles to find his way in the world. As always, the events play out against the rolling Alberta prairies under the wide Alberta blue sky. Working title is Finding the Way or maybe Second Chance. No clear winner yet.

Until next time, stay well, stay safe. These are my rescue dogs below. Miley, Gibbie, and George.

Thursday, September 17, 2020

Crossword Puzzles and Writing

 

Visit Janet's BWL Author page for purchase links to all her books

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

https://bookswelove.net/walters-janet-lane/ 

I’m addicted to doing crossword puzzles. Since I often eat alone, I do the puzzles during lunch and dinner. The crossword puzzles do many things and often force me to think outside the box. This has carried over into writing. I also learn new words and the meanings for other words than what we consider as usual. Several of my books have been aided by finding a word in a puzzle.

 

I found the name for the villain in the Affinities series from a crossword puzzle. I cam across a word I didn’t know and saw the definition meant a kind of weasel. That fit the character of the villain so handily.

 

The crossword puzzle gave me a word to use for what people call a reverse harem. This word came with the definition about a group of male horses. Harras was the word and I thought it suited.

 


So put your brain to work and find a crossword puzzle or two. Who knows what new word or idea you might find.

Wednesday, September 16, 2020

The Big Cheese, by J.C. Kavanagh

 

Darkness Descends
Book 2 of the Award-winning Twisted Climb series

Regular BWL blog readers will know that I have a great love of nature, in all its forms. I also have a particular fondness for the moon, in all its eerie glory. I have binoculars that are strong enough for celestial viewing and I take full advantage of clear, night-time skies. Did you know that the moon was formed four and a half billion years ago, about 60 million years after the solar system? Yeah, me neither. 


Scientists hypothesize that the moon was formed when a Mars-sized object hit the earth and the impact was such that a chunk of both the object and the earth ricocheted back into space and began to orbit the earth. Supporting this theory is the fact that the 'dark' side of the moon is 50 km (31 miles) thicker than the 'bright' side, allegedly because the projectile objects fused together. 

Rising full moon from my backyard, winter 2019

I also learned, courtesy of Wikipedia, that approximately five tons of comet particles crash into the moon every 24 hours. Back in 1651, an astronomer named Giovanni Battista Riccioli believed that the flat plains between the moon's craters were water-filled seas. In Latin, they were called 'maria.' Some believed that the cratered surface meant the moon might be composed of a cheesy substance. Today, we know the moon is composed of mainly iron, no dairy. Clear observations of the craters and 'maria' can be seen with the naked eye, and in greater detail courtesy of a good set of binoculars.

Quick view of the moon phases

Astronomers have determined that there are millions of craters on the bright side of the moon, and of those, 300,000 have a diameter greater than 1 km (0.6 mile).

My fascination with the full moon is found in my Twisted Climb books. The three main characters, Jayden, Connor and Max, meet in a moon-lit dream world and embark on many action-filled adventures. Here's a few 'moon' excerpts from The Twisted Climb and Darkness Descends:

Jayden Nanjee looked up. The full moon shone like a ghostly yellow torch against the midnight black of the night sky. The pale, low-lying clouds seemed to hug the earth as the moon peeked in and out of their embrace. 

And...

Creamy puffs of clouds filled the sky, circling the moon in a slow dance. His gaze followed the milky orb as it appeared to slide behind a cloud, throwing the field into murky gloom. 

And...

The moon slid behind a gathering of heavy, bloated clouds, leaving only shadowy blackness. 

And...

The moon was unfolding itself through the parting clouds, creating shadowy figures behind every tree.

And one more...

A yellowish full moon shone brightly from the heavens, ghoulishly displaying its pock-marked face. 



So yes, the moon played a pivotal role in the spooky setting of The Twisted Climb's dream world. If you're looking for a book series that will take you on one crazy adventure after another, then you have to read The Twisted Climb series. Moon-gazing will never be the same.



J.C. Kavanagh, author of
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
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
Twitter @JCKavanagh1 (Author J.C. Kavanagh)

Tuesday, September 15, 2020

The terrible luck of the three sisters, the Titanic, the Olympic, the Britannic, and the incredible luck of one woman

 

Violet Jessup
Violet Jessup


The White Star Line, a British steamship company, faced a challenge in the 1900’s. Its rival, the Cunard Line, had built smaller but faster steamships, and threatened the White Line’s traditional routes to America.  Bruce Ismay, the Director of the White Line, decided that to counter the threat by constructing larger and more opulent vessels. From this decision came the ‘Olympic’ class of ships, which set the standard for large passenger cruisers of the era.


The Olympic

The first, eponymously named Olympic, set sail on her maiden voyage in 1911. With nine
decks, a length of 883 feet and a height of 175 feet, and designed by the nota
ble naval architect Thomas Andrews, its size eclipsed anything seen on the seas so far. Unfortunately, within a year of its launch, it collided with the HMS Hawke, a warship designed to sink others by ramming them with its reinforced bow. The Olympic’s hull was breached, but somehow it made its way back to port.


The Titanic

The White Star Line next launched the Titanic on the tenth of April, 1912. It sank five days later. Its first class quarters were the epitome of luxury, with a gymnasium, swimming pool, libraries, fine china, several restaurants and well-appointed cabins. Of the estimated 2,224 passengers, over 1,500 died, making it the deadliest peacetime marine disaster.


The Britannic

Being gluttons for punishment, the White Star Line launched the Britannic in 1914, with the same unfortunate result. When the First World War started, it was leased by the Royal Navy and served as a hospital ship. On the 21st of November, 1916, it struck a German mine while sailing in the Aegean Sea. The explosion ripped open her hull and she sunk in less than an hour. Fortunately, having learned its lessons, the company had installed sufficient lifeboats and, of the 1,605 persons on board, only thirty died.

As incredible as it may seem, there was one person on board of all three ships when they sank, though she barely survived the disasters. Her name was Violet Jessup and she worked as a stewardess for the While Line Company. She inherited the love of the sea from her mother, who worked as a ship stewardess until she became too ill to continue. Jessop was twenty-one years of age but she kept getting rejected at job interviews. The employers found her “too pretty,” fearing problems with crew and passengers. Indeed, over the course of her career, she received three marriage proposals, including one from an extremely wealthy first-class passenger.

When she appeared for a job with the White Line Company, she wore old clothes and made herself look haggard. She got the job. Her first appointment was with the Olympic, then the Titanic and then, the Britannic. While she was unhurt from the Olympic disaster and was ordered into a lifeboat (as she was carrying a baby in her arms) aboard the Titanic, she almost lost her life during the sinking of the Britannic.

She jumped into the waters as the ship went underwater. The sea sucked her under, towards the ship’s propellers. Her head struck the keel, arresting her momentum and she was able to surface. Years later, when she went to a doctor complaining of persistent headaches, it was discovered that she had suffered a fracture of her skull. Displaying enormous fortitude, she continued working on large ships for another thirty-four years, until her retirement at age sixty-three.

The White Star Line did not survive its disasters. It was bought by the Royal Mail Packet Company in 1927, and in 1933 merged with its old rival, the Cunard Line.


Mohan Ashtakala is the author of 'The Yoga Zapper', a fantasy, and 'Karma Nation', a literary romance (www.mohanashtakala.com). He is published by Books We Love (www.bookswelove.com).


 


Monday, September 14, 2020

Sheila Claydon





Click here to find my books at Books We Love

I've just discovered a wonderful new word - librocubicularist! It refers to a person who reads in bed, and was invented by an American novelist, Christopher Morley, in the early 1900s. As someone who regularly reads in bed, I have adopted this word. It makes my late night and early morning reading sound like an important, even essential activity.

I have friends who also read in bed, while others do something I can never do, pull up the covers, switch off the light and go straight to sleep. One friend, however, is such a bad sleeper that when she wakes in the middle of the night and is unable to get back to sleep, she will read for an hour or two. Does this give her librocubicularist points? How much bedtime reading constitutes a seasoned librocubicularist - 30 minutes, an hour, daily, weekly. Does a five minute chapter count?
 

Discovering a new word is like finding treasure for a writer, even though I can't begin to imagine where librocubicularist could feature in my romantic fiction books. Having found one, however, I went looking for more and discovered aestivation. This is the summer equivalent of hibernation. It is lolling around in the heat of a hot summer day, so another word I can adopt for myself. Aestivating is definitely something I enjoy, preferably with a cold drink to hand, and an interesting book.


And lastly here is a very new one. Haiflu! Invented, as far as I can tell, by the poet Liv Torc, and promoted on National Poetry Day, it is half-sibling to the Japanese Haiku. The Haiku is a poem of seventeen syllables, in three lines of five, seven, and five, that traditionally evokes images of the natural world whereas the flippantly named Haiflu is the response of a poet to the Coronavirus pandemic. This one, which I love, is credited to Demi Anter, and is illustrated by a photo of a dog looking out a window:


Porridge for the twelfth
damn day in a row; I am
now made of porridge


I don't think any of the characters in my books are poets, or even prolific readers, and maybe I should think about that when I write my next one. Of them all, Holly Williams in my Retro Romance Empty Hearts is the closest. As an ex journalist whose visit to Moscow includes acting as a nanny to a five year old boy while researching for a book, she is probably a librocubicularist. Whether she would like Haiflu is a moot point, but while I think I might try to write one myself, I have just discovered that another BWL author, Susan Calder, is the winner of a traditional Haiku competition! Check out her post of 12 September. The words and images are lovely.





www.sheilaclaydonwriter.com