A Pie For All Seasons by Helen Henderson

 

Windmaster Legacy by Helen Henderson
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Cold and gray skies that look like it will dump snow at any moment calls for comfort food. Although it is not a politically declared holiday, January 23rd is National Pie Day, which is as good a way as any to brighten a winter's meal. Although pies can trace its roots all the way back to the Greeks who are credited with creating the first pastry shell by mixing together water and flour, they and their Roman and Middle Age descendants bear little resemblance to the modern dishes called "pie." Fillings have ranged from honey and fruits or nuts to meats, fish, and mussels. The pumpkin, apple, and quince fillings once popular have expanded. Today, the top ten pie fillings include: 1) Apple, 2) Pumpkin, 3) Chocolate Creme, 4) Cherry, 5) Apple Crumb, 6) Pecan, 7) Lemon Meringue, 8) Blueberry, 9) Key Lime Pie and 10) Peach. And in recognition of my southern neighbors, don't forget sweet potato pie.

The smell of warm, fresh from the oven, pies pushes back the winter doldrums. The taste raises memories of holidays past and watching the elder members of the family make the crusts while us younger ones peel and slice what seemed like bushels of apples. Eventually, us "youngsters" progressed to making the crust under the watchful eye of our grandmother.

A family favorite that doesn't make the top ten list, but is very popular in the land of my kin is shoofly pie. For those who aren't familiar with this Pennsylvania Dutch dish from the 1800s, shoofly pie has been referred to as a molasses crumb cake baked in a pie crust. As to the name, flies had to be shooed away from the cooling treat. Or maybe because for some us us that was easier to say than Melassich Riwwelboi or Melassichriwwelkuche. For Valentine's Day (which is a short few weeks away). I may try something different, a "French Kiss" pie. It's described as a decadent French Silk pie, topped with strawberries dipped in Belgian chocolate, and kissed with fresh raspberries.

I like pie, but how about my characters?  One answer comes while shopping at the market when Lady Pelra helps a woman who tripped and fell.

“Why don’t you join me in a cup of chilled cider,” Pelra said. “I think we both can use a breather.” A signal to Cyfaill and Urith to maintain their distance and follow, she led Saibh to a booth farther down the street to a vendor who sold pieces of fruit pie and mugs of chilled cider. Four coppers later, she balanced plates of pie atop two mugs of cider and led Saibh to a bench in the trees behind the booth. (From Windmaster Legend)

On the trail, a hungry apprentice hopes for a meal. But his search raised a question.

Light wood smoke mingled with the enticing smell of fruit pies. Nobyn sucked in the fragrant air. Just the scent of the food was enough to start his mouth watering. Beyond the last of the large trees lining the trail, tall fruit vines covered neat rows of fences. Twisted branches laden with ripe green fruit showed the source of the pie fillings. But who was baking out here? (From Windmaster Legacy)

Whether you are a baker or an afficionado of the pie, here's to a happy pie day.

~Until next month, stay safe and read. Preferably with a big slice of your favorite pie and a cup of hot coffee to chase away the chill.  Helen

To purchase the Windmaster Novels: BWL

 
Find out more about me and my novels at Journey to Worlds of Imagination.
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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 who has adopted her as one of the pack. 

Living With A Rough Draft - Janet Lane Walters #BWLAuthor #MFRWAuthor #writing #Rough Draft #twists and Surprises

 

 

Living With A Rough Draft

 

Starting a new story is always an adventure. While I generally have a rough idea of where the story will go, things occur during the writing. I begin with a rough draft and look at what I’ve planned to have happen. Sometimes the story moves flawlessly through the roughing in of the scenes and some times there are little twists and turns that pop up unexpectedly.

 

My latest book has taken a few of these turns and I write them in as they occur. Soon the rough draft will be finished. Then comes the fun. This time several twists happened and I must when I go back to the beginning find a way to accept or reject them. For this story, I will probably accept most of them. Yes, it’s a romance but it’s also a story of the dreams haunting not only my hero and heroine but at least one of his children. Though I’ve a few more chapters to finish the rough draft, hopefully all the twists have been found.

 

How about you, do you plan your stories and then sit down and let the words flow and embrace all those strange and new twists never thought of when the idea for the story arose?

 

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Tapping the unknown, by J.C. Kavanagh

 

The Twisted Climb
Book 1 of the award-winning series

There's a deep well. The stone wall around the top is waist-high, tall enough for you to lean over and peer down. The bottom is not in sight. What looms in that deep, dark cavern? Is it just water, a welcome, wet oasis for the parched? Or are there unknown, unseen creatures scurrying about, waiting for the unsuspecting human to drop a bucket and haul up... a blood-thirsty beast...

Yah, that would definitely be 'tapping' the unknown. But I made up that paragraph, just now as I gazed into the playground of my mind... ah yes, there they are. I see them - creatures in a deep, dark well. I tend to do that as an author. Look for the scare; an unexpected tingle of fear; a foreshadowing of something spooky to come. My dreams are twisted too - which is how The Twisted Climb story began. But that's another blog.

So when it came to tapping a non-writing skill, I was at a bit of a loss. Creativity has no bounds, as every reader and writer knows. But how about a craft? A Christmas craft? Hmmm. There's a challenge. I live on a rural property in southern Ontario, Canada, with thousands of trees. Trees of all kinds: pine, spruce, oak, maple, elm, birch, beech, chestnut, tamarack, apple and more. Because I have so many pines and spruces, I have hundreds, maybe thousands of cones. And because I have so many oaks, I have hundreds, maybe thousands, of acorns. What to do with them?

How about Christmas wreaths? I've never undertaken such a project but I knew I had the materials at hand. My neighbour Patricia, who is affectionately known as the 'bird lady' due to the geese, chickens, turkeys and peacocks that she lovingly cares for, is one of the most multi-talented women I have ever met. How to grow a vegetable garden? Ask Patricia. How to crochet a baby blanket? Ask Patricia. How to make a floral arrangement for any season, any event? Ask Patricia. So I knew when I asked her 'How do you make a Christmas wreath?' - well, I knew she'd have the answer. 

And so I began my untapped journey into the making of a Christmas wreath. Little did I know that it would take me five weeks, from start to finish, to make six wreaths. Yup, only six. Ha! Patricia taught me that a) you have to select similar-sized cones, b) you must soak them in a bowl of water till they close shut, and c) only then do you insert them through the metal frame while they're wet. Next step is to heat them by the wood stove so they dry and open again. This heating step ensures the cones are completely ensconced and tight in the metal frame.

Then the fun begins. Building layers of cones, acorns and chestnuts - all symmetrically pleasing - while hiding the metal frame. More than once I learned the peril of holding a glue gun too close to the fingers. With Patricia's guidance and her incredible knack of making bows, and using a variety of craft materials and ribbon, my foray into the building of unique Christmas wreaths was, I daresay, successful. 

Christmas morning: Ian's lovely daughter, Veroniqua, with her wreath.

As you can see from the photo above, I decided that such a gift required a 'keepsake box.' So that meant designing and building/staining storage boxes. With my multi-talented partner's help (Ian), we built the boxes from plywood, cut out a 'Christmas 2020' stencil, spray painted it and then signed each box. 

Tapping into the unknown - that's what my Christmas wreath project felt like. I've never done anything like it before and my fear was that the wreaths would not be worthy enough to give away as presents. But I think I did okay. What say you? I'll tell you one thing: I definitely have a renewed respect for all things 'hand made.'

If you're curious about the trappings of the fantastical dream world found in the playground of my mind and put to paper in The Twisted Climb series of award-winning books, please check them out at your favourite book store or through the online link found below. You'll be glad you did!

https://bookswelove.net/kavanagh-j-c/

Stay safe everyone!

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)

Albert Schweitzer’s Reverence for Life

 

In 1913, after having founded a hospital in Gabon, the religious philosopher and polymath Albert Schweitzer took a boat ride on the Ogooue River, to contemplate ethics and civilization. He spent two days in deep thought and, on the third, had a moment of enlightenment, which he called “Reverence for Life.”

In short, “Reverence for Life” is the idea that all life must be respected and loved and that humans should enter into a personal, spiritual relationship with the universe and all its creations. For humans such an outlook would naturally lead to a life of service to others.

Schweitzer was born into a well-educated family in Alsace, which was part of Germany in 1875, the year of his birth. His father was a Lutheran pastor and Schweitzer followed his footsteps and studied theology and philosophy. He also became an accomplished organist, but found his lasting passion in medicine.

With a degree in Medicine, Schweitzer and his wife Helene Bresslau, a nurse, he moved to Gabon, Africa, where he lived for most of his days, to start a hospital.

He had always had a kind heart towards animals. He wrote “One thing that especially saddened me was that the unfortunate animals had to suffer so much pain and misery…when my mother had prayed with me and kissed me good-night, I used to silently add a prayer that I composed myself for all living beings: ‘Oh heavenly Father, protect and bless all things that have breath, guard them from evil, and let them sleep in peace.’”

He carried this understanding throughout his life. In Africa, when planting a seed on a farm he had started, he was noticed gently scooping out a spider that had fallen in the hole. His reverence for life, while self-manifested, was developed and refined by Schweitzer’s reading of Indian philosophy. In his book, Indian Thought and Its Development, he wrote the following: “The laying down of the commandment to not kill and not to damage is one of the greatest events in spiritual history. Starting from this principle..ancient Indian thought..reached the tremendous discovery that ethics know no bounds.”

Ahimsa, the principle he referred to, appears in both yoga philosophy and in the religion of Jainism. In yoga, it is the first of the Yamas, one of the eight limbs of yoga. The five Yamas (standards of behavior) are Ahimsa (non-violence); Satya (truthfulness); Asteya, non-stealing; Brahmacharya (continence) and Aparigraha (non-covetousness.) The Jain religion brought Ahimsa into daily practice.

Schweitzer’s writings had a tremendous impact in a world that had suffered violence during the twentieth century. He was awarded the Nobel Peace prize in 1952, and he used the money to start a leprosarium in Gabon, Africa. Until his death in 1965, he worked tirelessly for peace, speaking out against nuclear weapons and for the humane treatment of animals.

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

The story behind the photo...by Sheila Claydon

 Click here for my BWL page

Remembering Rose is very special to me because it is my take on a family history. Not my family (although I might get to that eventually) but that of another family. 

It all started when I found a sepia photo in a box of jumbled mementos. The young woman at the centre  was mesmerising, not because of her looks, although they were striking, but because of her vivacity. And it was obvious from the faces of those around her, that they were equally entranced. Of course I will never know what she was saying any more than I will ever know why she was standing while the people around her were sitting on the ground watching her. Were they playing a game like charades? Had she just jumped up and suggested they all stop lolling around and go for a walk? Was she reacting to something the blonde curly-haired child next to her had done? The only thing I do know is that it was taken in the summer because some of the men were wearing striped blazers and straw boater hats, and the women's dresses seemed to be styled from light, summery materials. 

Like all photos taken in the days before the ubiquitous cell phone camera, there had to be a story behind it. In the late 1800s it wouldn't have been taken on a whim, so maybe the group had been posing and the photographer had grabbed a final photo just as the woman jumped up ready to do something else. I was intrigued enough to store the image in my head but not quite intrigued enough to write about it until, many years later, I was shown a photo of the same woman as an old lady. The contrast was both shocking and heartbreaking. What was it that had changed that vibrant young woman into somebody so thin and melancholy.  What had life done to her? And her husband too. In the sepia photo he had been handsome and dashing with luxuriant whiskers and his straw hat tilted at a jocular angle. Now he looked old and tired and his hands were swollen with arthritis.

The writer in me kicked in and I began to ask questions. The result is Remembering Rose. A fiction of course, but with enough of their real story woven into it to ensure they are never forgotten. Because their's is a story of love...real love, not the fleeting kind that runs as soon as it encounters problems...and consequently the love experienced by all the other people in the book is the same. The blurb on the back sums it up:

Rachel has a husband who adores her, a beautiful baby daughter, and an extended family she can rely on, so why isn't she happy? She doesn't know and nor do the people who love her. Only Rose understands but she is trapped in another century. To help Rachel she has to breach the boundaries of time itself as well as risk exposing the truth of her own past. When echoes from that past begin to affect other people in the village of Mapleby, things suddenly become a lot more complicated. Can Rachel put things right without giving away Rose's secret?

Because I needed a background for Rose's story I invented the village of Mapleby and the cottage where she lived as a child, and when I did that, Mapleby itself pulled back the curtain that separates us from the past and the future and told me Rose's story. And because it told me the story of so many of the others who live there too I soon found myself embarking upon a Mapleby Memories series. Remembering Rose is Book 1 and Book 2: Loving Ellen will be published in February. Although it's part of a series, it is still a stand alone book, but to really understand the village and the people who live there, you need to listen to Rose.

And if you do read Remembering Rose you might be able to guess who the heroine of the next story is going to be. A clue. It's not Ellen because there isn't an Ellen in Book 1. Have I intrigued you enough?

Even better is the fact that BWL has just updated the cover for Remembering Rose, ready for a relaunch alongside Loving Ellen, and the new image really does look like Rachel, who is the other heroine of the story. The cover for Loving Ellen is even better and I'll be showcasing that next month.