Tempus Fugit by Victoria Chatham

My favorite clock is a pretty thing I’ve had for forty-six years. However, its stained casing and tendency to quickly run down indicates its age more than the time. I find it somewhat depressing that we have already arrived at November 22, 2018. Depressing because, where has all that time, and especially this year gone? Am I the only one who struggles with this phenomenon, or does anyone else find the passage of time a puzzlement?

The seasons blur one into the other with none of the clear delineations I remember as a child and I don’t know if this is a factor. Or is it, now that I am older, I move more slowly and can’t (or more honestly) don’t want to rush and enjoy what I do because I have few distractions? 

Or is it that the retail sector bombards us with seasonal celebrations before we have even got to them. Once January 1^st rolls around Valentine products very soon hit the stores. No sooner is that done then everything moves on to Easter, and then Mother’s and Father’s Day with a dozen or more celebrations along the way of Best Friends Day, Secretary’s Day – you name it, somebody and their dog have a day. And then it’s Halloween and Thanksgiving and very soon it will be Christmas and New Year’s and the whole ball of wax starts rolling all over again.

And what do we have in between? Not always blue skies, barbeques, and baseball. But I like to think that along the way we can at least take a little time, at some point, to put down the pen, close the computer, and take a breath of fresh air while sipping on a good cup of coffee or glass of wine while we are doing it. I’ve never been a poet but do appreciate poetry and one of my favorite poems is Leisure by William Henry Davies. It begins ‘What is this life if, full of care, We have no time to stand and stare.’ For the full verse check out www.davidpbrown.co.uk/poetry/william-henry-davies.html.

So now that I have taken the time to complain about time, it's time to start writing again or I'll run out of time before the next chapter is finished!

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Up, up and Away

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Up, up and Away

 

Just the other day Stan Lee passed away. For those of you who don’t know he, along with artist Jack Kirby, created Marvel Comics. Many great characters were born from this; Spiderman, The Fantastic Four, Daredevil, Ironman, The Avengers, X-men, The Mighty Thor, Incredible Hulk and Captain America to name but a miniscule number of them. Obviously a very creative and talented person. I cannot begin to perceive what it takes to crank out a story a month for each one of these characters, along with what was needed to put together an entire illustrated comic book.

But even more than that he created characters that seemed real. Although they could save the world every other day, they had issues. For instances Peter Parker, aka Spiderman, couldn’t work up the courage to ask the girl he loved on a date. As a teenager growing up I could relate. There were a couple of girls I was very attracted to, but just couldn’t find the courage.

          In the days before computers and video games I’m sure there were a lot of youngsters who, like me, lived in their heads while reading comic books. I used to deliver the local newspaper through sun, rain and snow (and growing up in Edmonton there was an awful lot of the latter) and saved all of my earnings in order to rush to the local drugstore to buy the newest offering of any of the above-mentioned titles.

          I grew up collecting them and eventually became an entrepreneur. My great friend Ron Smith and I would attend comic book conventions and local flea markets buying and selling. At one time I was the proud owner of nearly 5,000 comic books. Yes, obsessed and crazy, but the one thing I have realized since is that they inspired the way I write, creating a particular mindset. When I write a scene for a novel or a short story, I see an entire picture, like a frame-to-frame page in a comic book, and put it down on paper. 

The first thing I ever had published was a letter in the fan pages of one of my comic books (1990, letter to editor, Legion of Super-Heroes #6, DC comics). Yes, I still have a copy of that today. It was the first thing that made me realise I can do it, and I am a writer, and made me continue to believe in myself. It was nearly twelve years later that I won a first-page-to-a-novel contest and that first page eventually became the first in my Stillwaters Run Deep Series, Raven’s Lament. From a very miniscule acorn a mighty oak (or maybe giant beanstalk is more apt here!) has grown.

Stan Lee was a well-respected and well-loved man. They say leave the world a better place than when you came into it. I think in his case he did just that. I’ve added a link to a video compilation of his cameos in movies made of his characters. Hope you enjoy. (Check out also my recent podcast and a teaser video; link also below.)

PS. Yes, for all of you true comic book aficionados the title is NOT from a Stan Lee inspired character, but from Superman in DC comics. But I thought it just fit as a title for a man on his way to the heavens.

 See you next month!

Stan Lee Cameo's video

My recent podcast on the Dr. Lesley Phillips show

https://drlesleyphillips.com/intuition/first-nation-legends/?fbclid=IwAR3scD3BwyEPLToYhxUYQqXp0botD4JQttZ3x1qgrQU1W5jJVpl4LLIi4yE



My Teaser video for Raven's Lament

Sincerely

Frank Talaber

twosoulmates@shaw.ca

My webpage

http://twosoulmates.wixsite.com/frankt-author-blog

Frank Talaber’s Writing Style? He usually responds with: Mix Dan Millman (Way of The Peaceful Warrior) with Charles De Lint (Moonheart) and throw in a mad scattering of Tom Robbins (Even Cowgirls Get The Blues).
PS: He’s better looking than Stephen King (Carrie, The Stand, It, The Shining) and his romantic stuff will have you gasping quicker than Robert James Waller (Bridges Of Madison County).

Or as is often said: You don’t have to be mad to be a writer, but it sure helps.

My novels on Amazon are at:  https://www.amazon.com/Frank-Talaber/e/B00UC407R0

https://www.facebook.com/FrankTalaber/

https://www.facebook.com/franktalaberpublishedauthor/ (My facebook short story page)

http://bwlpublishing.ca/authors/talaber-frank-suspense-urban-fantasy-canada/

Thanksgiving: How The Day Became a National Holiday in the USA

Dangerous Sanctuary by J. Q. Rose
Cozy Mystery
Find more mysteries by J.Q. Rose at BWL Publishing

Hello and welcome to the Books We Love Insiders Blog! 
I'm J.Q. Rose.

Happy Thanksgiving!
Thursday, November 22 in the USA

The USA celebrates Thanksgiving Day on Thursday, November 22. Our nation has celebrated this traditional event since 1863 after Abraham Lincoln signed the declaration establishing the day as a national holiday. Before this, only Washington's Birthday and Independence Day were national holidays.

I have a question for your Thanksgiving Day guests and family. Who influenced the President to consider declaring a national Thanksgiving Day? The New England states celebrated Thanksgiving, but it was not a holiday in the rest of the country. 

Writer Sarah J. Hale is credited for influencing President Lincoln's decision. She was a persistent woman, writing to five presidents asking for the holiday.  She began her campaign in 1846, but it wasn't until 1863 when she finally convinced Honest Abe to support legislation to declare Thanksgiving a national holiday. The new national holiday was considered a day that could unify the nation after the horrendous Civil War had split the country.

Not only achieving recognition for Thanksgiving Day, but also Sarah's legacy is seen in her support of establishing historic sites and in her belief for higher education for women, establishing a college for women, Vassar College. The idea of educating women was not a popular idea in the mid-1850's. She also the editor of an influential magazine, Godey's Lady's Book. 

And one more item for your trivia game on Thanksgiving Day. Sarah J. Hale wrote the nursery rhyme, "Mary's Lamb," which is now known as "Mary Had a Little Lamb."

For more information about Sarah Hale's legacy, click on the titles of the following articles:

The National Women's History Museum article on Sarah Josepha Hale (1788-1879)

Wikipedia article on Sarah Josepha Hale

***

Can you think of more questions about Thanksgiving to ask in your Trivia game? 

Please share in a comment below. Thanks. Oh, and don't forget to include the answer!!

Wishing you a 

Happy Thanksgiving

from

J.Q. Rose

Click here to connect online with J. Q. Rose

Beware the Most Dangerous Animal in the Jungle...by Stuart R. West

Of course I'm talking about the great lumbering beast: the American Ox. Otherwise known as myself.

Click for comic mystery antics.

 I don't camp. Never have, never will. Nature and I don't get along. If I so much as glance at poison ivy, I turn into a giant blister bubble. On the other hand, my wife loves camping and nature. Everything that is nature except for...the unspeakable eight-legged critters. She suffers from a truly bad case of arachnophobia. 

My wife (kinda, sorta) avoiding arachnids in the jungle (what she doesn't know won't kill her.)

Over the course of our trip, several people thought they could cure my wife's fears easy-peasy with some Dr. Phil nonsense: "Oh, the best way to conquer your fear is to face it." Someone else tried the routine of "no, no, spiders are good! They bla, bla, bla..." While their intentions were good, they've never witnessed my wife jump out of a moving car once she spotted a spider. While she was driving. Twice.

So, for obvious reasons, people thought we were crazy for going to the jungle.

My wife, um, enjoying the floor.

Me, I possess the grace of a big, clumsy meth-head trying to thread a needle. Getting in and out of the boat proved extremely problematic. Our guide, Victor--an amiable sort, fluent in English and bird-song--grew weary of my (literally) rocking the boat. Constantly, he told me to "slow down, slow down." But he didn't understand speed was the only way I kept from falling, sheer momentum my only ally. Amazingly, I didn't capsize the boat, but I capsized myself a couple of times. 

Victor standing at ease and defying gravity in our boat.

Once, Victor wanted to redistribute weight throughout the boat so he instructed me to move back a bench. I'd successfully moved myself back before by just using my arms and swinging my body backward, so I thought I could do it again. Methinks I'd forgotten the 50 pound backpack attached to my body. I fell between the benches, legs up in the air like half-price day at the old-West brothel. A particularly poor day to wear white pants (and what was I thinking wearing white pants into the jungle anyway? Terrible fashion choice.). 

A good larf was had by all (except for me and my wounded pride. Not to mention my wounded posterior).

Falling isn't anything new for me. Gravity and balance are not my friends. While escorting us across wooden planks to the local jungle health clinic, Victor remarked on one of our cohorts' very good balance. I said, "I think she has better balance than me." 

Victor readily agreed. "Much better," he said. "Much, much better."

Of COURSE nature just loves Victor.

So there I am, floundering around in the jungle, trying my damnedest not to fall on snakes or worse, planting my feet ploddingly, arms out like a new-born tyke learning to walk. Hardly jungle material.

Back to that health clinic... The Yanamano Clinic--a small, humid building just off the river--is run by a doctor from Wisconsin and services the locals (or at least those who've embraced Western medicine). The doctor, understandably frustrated by the government's lack of aid, caring and health care, ripped through a list of her recent patients and their alarming ailments. Needless to say, machete wounds topped the list. A sobering (and sweltering) visit, it truly made me grateful for what we take for granted in the States.

Solar-powered (and without air conditioning, natch), the small operating room was a sparsely lit hot-box where the doctor sweats over her patients while sewing them up. Recently, a fan had been installed (a huge deal) and a bright light bulb had been donated (again, victory). Doctors Without Borders swung by one day with good intentions and big ideas, but little could truly be done. It's a very bleak situation for both the locals and the doctors because help doesn't come from many places. And the locals are uneducated about their own ailments and what modern medicine can do for them. 

Later, I was told this was one of the better clinics. At least there weren't holes in the ceiling.

On the way out of the clinic, I made a big mistake, a huge one.

As we left the clinic, I held the door open for everyone because Mom taught me to be a gentleman. Our boat driver, Walker, glared menacingly at me as he slowly walked through my proffered opened door. Victor, our guide, actually stopped dead in his tracks, stared at me. He opened his mouth to say something, then shook his head and hurried through the door. Hands flailing, they chatted animatedly and angrily back to our boat. Clearly I'd done something to offend them.

Only later did I realize my whoopsie moment. 

The culture of Peru is muy machismo. Men are men and the very mention of a "metrosexual" will get you beat up. Men drive motokars and women work in the kitchen, end of story. However, the men are fooling themselves, for women truly rule the roost. It's a very sexist culture, but only superficially so. Regardless, men take their manly manliness very manfully.

Things weren't right between Victor and myself until the end of the trip.

Friendsies again! (L to R: My wife, Victor, me, Jungle Momma Connie)

On the bright side, my wife had only one minor spider incident. In the boat, she reflexively kicked our friend's butt to get rid of a small, menacing arachnid. (I purposefully didn't tell my love about the lodge's four pet tarantulas until we'd left). Not bad odds for the jungle!

Speaking of odds, what're the odds Wendell Worthy can race against time to save his brother's life by running through downtown Kansas City in his underwear? Not very good! Find out in my comic thriller, Chili Run.

Laughs and thrills just a click away!

It's Almost Christmas by Nancy M Bell

TO find out more about A Longview Christmas and my other books click on the cover and then scroll down in the website to see the Holiday titles.

Christmas is one of my favourite times of year. I thought I would share some childhood Christmas memories.


The Rafter Family Christmas Eve was always a variation of the same theme.

My parents would pack up the two youngest children, myself and my sister Wendy, and set off in the car to visit my Dad’s sisters ( my aunts) who lived in various parts of Toronto and the outlying area.
My Aunt Ola and Uncle Bunny lived near Whitevale, Ontario with my cousins Rose and Fred. They lived on a farm and had the most amazing white farmhouse. The floors always were polished to diamond brilliance and I loved their kitchen. Lots of room and tons of windows, it was a wonderful welcoming place. The adults would visit and we would play with Rosie and Freddy our cousins, either outside in the snow or inside on the floor. We would drop off our gifts and receive the ones that went home to go under our tree.

After eating Christmas goodies we would all pile back into the car and head off to the next aunt’s house.

Auntie Joy and Uncle Norm lived in the west end of the city with a house full of our cousins. Glennie was the oldest and then Charlie, Suzanne, Wayne, Billy, Dennis and Brenda. There was always lots to do at Auntie Joy’s, we played games and one year when they lived in Streetsville we played in the ravine near their house and got totally covered in burrs. We were not popular children when we got home. There was great food and the cousins always had the latest in games and toys to play with We dropped off the presents and packed the ones for us into the car and we were off again.

Next stop Aunt Loral and Uncle Bob and cousins Debbie and Lori. Aunt Loral’s was usually the last stop in the early years.

My Aunt Gloria and Uncle Tommy and Cindy and Tammy Lori lived in Caladar, which was up near North Bay when we were young, we would go and visit them on New Year’s Day every year. Later years they moved to Toronto, not far from Aunt Loral and we stopped there on Christmas Eve as well. Aunt Irma ( who later changed her name legally to Rocky) and Uncle Wally lived near Ottawa and we did not get to see them as often, or our cousins Gary and Scott.
Aunt Loral had a very small house and it always seemed so crammed full of Christmas. The living room was usually quite dark and the tree seemed to fill it up totally. She had the most amazing tree topper that was all the colors of the rainbow and it sent the colors all over the room, reflecting off all the walls and the front room window. As this was our last stop Wendy and I were both tired and didn’t spend too much time actually playing with Debbie and Lori. It was also getting late and near bed time so that Santa could come and leave his gifts for us. There was always time for yet more goodies and more pop. Aunt Loral always had great fruit cake at her house. Dark and moist. She also had a zillion of the little statues that used to come in Red Rose Tea. They were lined up on the top of the door frames in her kitchen and just about anywhere that you looked We always put the tree up on December 20th as that was my birthday. Mom and Dad never wanted to put the tree up earlier than that as we always had a real tree and they worried that it would dry out.
We had these really cool bubble lights that were all different colors but got really hot when you left them on too long. There was a fluffy white angel on top.
One Christmas Eve when we were still outside in the driveway just getting out of the car Wendy and I got a huge surprise. There, coming down the Cooney’s driveway, who were our next door neighbors, was Santa Claus!

We both screamed and then bolted for the back door. If Santa came while were still up and awake he wouldn’t leave us anything. We tore through the back door into the kitchen and down the back hall to the bedroom. With our wet snow boots and coats still on Wendy and I scrambled into bed and pulled the covers over our heads. I had a harder time getting into bed as I had to climb up into the top bunk, but I made it. Mom and Dad came in and tried to get us to take off our coats and boots and change into night clothes. Wendy and I wouldn’t budge, we were pretending to be asleep so that Santa would leave our presents. We were sure that he was coming to our house any moment because we KNEW he just next door and he hadn’t been to our house next. He must have already been to Jo-anne and John Lee’s place because they lived on the other side of the Cooneys, so we had to be next. Mom and Dad must have removed our boots after we were asleep because they were gone in the morning. And Santa did leave our presents for us that year.

What Do You Do When A Series Ends? - Opposites in Love

I’ve been a student of Astrology for years and while deciding on a book to write, I thought perhaps, one where opposites attract. Aries and Libra were the first I chose. Now this was originally written years ago and I had to do some updating like getting rid of station wagons, giving my characters cell phones and putting computers into the hospital where I chose to base the six friends

Purchase from Your Favorite Retailer

First in the series is Aries-Libra.
Jenessa is union and Eric is management. She charges ahead, sword in hand. He likes balance and looking at all sides of a problem. They must learn to work together to solve the hospital’s problems. This story had a bit of myself in it when I was part of a committee trying for a union at the hospital where I worked.

The second in the series is The Taurus Scorpio Connection

Lauren a Taurus says her mother was ahired nanny and her father the Mellwood bank. She is searching for a home and returns to Eastlake where she went to college. Alex , A Scorpio has been burned by a rick woman who deserted him and their son. He has no desire for marriage and fights the attraction. This story came when reading about a poor little rich girl and got tied up with a charity donation for Doctors Without Borders.

The third in the series is The Gemini Taurus connection. Liz the heroine is a Gemini. She is a single mother raising twin sons. Her husband, a volunteer fireman, died trying to rescue a woman leaving her with two six week old babies. Jeff, the hero is a Sagittarius. He had a wonderful marriage and has no desire for another. Widow and widower raise sparks and his ‘hoof in mouth” disease provides some humor. Having Genini and Sagittarian family members, this was sort of written for them.

The fourth in the series is The Cancer Capricorn Connection.  Cate is a Cancer and a single mother. After taking a new position as a nurse manager of the Rehab facility, she is happy to be with her friends. When she learns Rick, her love from the past and the father of her daughter, she must learn to forgive the man who deserted her, the man she never tried to find.  Rick has his own lessons to learn and one is he still loves Cate. Is this love hopeless?  This story has a bit of myself in it. I’m a Cancer but never experienced being a single mother.  But I spent time in a rehab hospital when I had my knees replaced.

The fifth in the series is The Leo Aquarius Connection. Suzanna returns to Eastlake to join her friends as nurse manager of the Pediatric unit. She has a fifteen year old brother who was in a horrific accident and is undergoing rehab. She almost decides to leave when she learns Caleb a pediatrician has joined the staff. In the past, Caleb, a wealthy young man had propositioned her. She refused. They have a lot of learning to do, especially when Caleb’s parents push another woman into his path. Part of the inspiration for this book was watching a romance involving these two signs emerge.

Is a big stick required? by J.C. Kavanagh

Darkness Descends,

Book 2 of the award-winning Twisted Climb series

So you've read a book. A fantastic book. You immersed yourself in the characters and in the various scenes and allowed yourself to be pulled into the intricacies of the plot. The words in the book joined together like a movie unfolding in your mind - word for word, paragraph for paragraph, page by page. What I like to call a word movie. 

Finally, you flip the last page and then sit back slowly in satisfied awe.

Now what?

Well, if you really-truly-completely want to share your satisfaction and acknowledge the author's way with words, a 'thank you' in the form of an online book review is your next step.

But somehow, the book review is a step that most people skip.

It's not because they don't want to say 'thank you' for the wonderful piece of work, or 'thank you' for bringing them totally and completely into the playground of the author's mind, it's because... well, it's because it's not encouraged enough. Not stressed enough. The importance of writing a positive review makes a huge impact on a writer's audience and fan-base. Think about it. How often do you search specifically for a particular author, or for books that are 4- or 5-star reviews? All the time? Most of the time? Probably.

Some websites make it easy to write a review. Others, not so easy. It's the resolve of the reader that determines which website(s) they place their opinion and name. Mind you, not all sites require the inclusion of your real name - so some form of anonymity is allowed. I know that the anonymous review is often the crutch used by negative trolls, but I'm only speaking to the readers who truly enjoy jumping in and out of the author's page-by-page creative playground.

If readers understood how important it is to share a positive reading experience with others around the globe, there would be more 'famous' writers. Yeah, I really think so.  Then, 'unknown' writers would have their works lifted for others to 'see' the word movie that each book brings to the screen of your mind.

It doesn't take a big stick to write a review. All it takes is some good words.

That's the 'thank you' a good author deserves.

J.C. Kavanagh 

The Twisted Climb - Darkness Descends (Book 2) 

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

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