Thursday, April 20, 2023
The Key of the Door....by Sheila Claydon
Wednesday, April 19, 2023
Helping Others by Helen Henderson
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Windmaster Legend by Helen Henderson |
April, the fourth month of the year in the Gregorian and Julian calendars and the first of four months to have a length of 30 days. Last month I used the name of the month as a verb and pictured prancing horses. To come up with some inspiration for this post, I went to the National Day Calendar. The days for April range from the tasty (National Pineapple Upside Down Cake Day) to the historic, National Ellis Island Family History Day, The one item I love to eat. The other? At least one set of my ancestors immigrated from the old country and I have researched whether or not they came through Ellis Island.
Normally I don't disclose too personal information, but I'm breaking that tradition to acknowledge Volunteer Recognition Day with some thoughts on answering the call for help.
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| The aftermath of Superstorm Sandy |
Disasters can bring out the best and the worst of people. After the recent tornadoes in Tipton County, Tennessee, the area pulled together. While age and other reasons meant I held down the homefront, a family member spent a day helping pick up debris. It reminded me of another disaster. The largest Atlantic hurricane on record as measured by diameter, an event referred to as Superstorm Sandy. Taking in a family member who was without power doesn't qualify as volunteering. However, helping people move out of a storm damaged house, doing the demolition work necessary to remove flood-damaged sheetrock does. Then for several years afterwards, the volunteer help continued as the rebuilding efforts continued.
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| The ultimate critic of whether a job was done right. |
Over the years of remodeling a house built in 1915, I have observed more than one person assume the position upon entering a room where work was being done. No, I don't mean the spread-legged lean against a wall for a pat-down search. The men stood with hands on their hips and surveyed my efforts. As part of Superstorm Sandy recovery, I was helping a contractor tape and spackle a newly-sheetrocked room. He was less obvious and to my pleasure, and surprise considering it was my first time taping joints, the work was acceptable.
| Being in period garb helped me get close enough to take for this picture. |
An interest in history has yielded other volunteer opportunities, and I still use the experience gained at them today. I don't build physical houses, but fantasy worlds. I may not travel to the past except in reenactments, but it helps me understand my characters travel through times past. Hours of unpaid work have been spent as director of a local history museum, caring for their artifacts, or digging out fragments of history with trowel and screen. I won't say where or when it was, but at one major history event, I did more than collect money at the admissions gate and keep the cars moving. I parked hundreds of cars. What was even more fun was helping get the cars out of the park when the event ended. I even had the change to use my whistle, a handy tool to get a driver's attention to make them stop and wait their turn, or to get them moving forward.
Whether you have volunteered your time and talents or been the recipients of other's efforts, I hope you enjoyed these memories.
To purchase the Windmaster Novels: BWL
~Until next month, stay safe and read. Helen
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 have adopted her as one the pack. Find out more about her and her novels on her BWL author page.
Tuesday, April 18, 2023
April is Poetry Month! by Nancy M Bell
Spring
Snow
Nancy
M Bell
The storm demons are howling rabidly across the sky
Dragging
their icy talons against the window glass
Screeching
their defiance through the hydro wires
Buffeting
the house with their fists of wind
Shrieking they the fall upon the exposed prairie
Vomiting
great gouts of snow to cover the earth
They
hurl handfuls of icy pellets in my face
As I
struggle to let the stock into the barn
Mean
spiritedly they snatch the door from my frozen fingers
Slamming
it open and popping one of the hinges
I
bare my teeth at them and wrestle the door from their grasp
Hold
it steady as the horses troop in out of the angry storm
The
bale of hay spills its summer scent in the frigid air
A
sunlit meadow song to battle the storm raging outside
The
storm demons grab me in their teeth and shake me
As I
blindly make my way back to the house
Power
and fury personified; they scream their defiance
Their
voices howling through the wind in my ears
Reluctant
to exchange the winds of winter
For the thunderheads of summer
Bitter Ashes
The taste of bitter ashes on my tongue
All
the more potent for their age
The
things I should have said
Coiled
about the things I did say
Time slides by in endless flood
Bearing
my choices out of reach
Things
I can’t change
Things
I wouldn’t change
That
line from an old Kristofferson song:
“I’d
rather be sorry for something I’ve done,
Then
for something that I didn’t do.”
Oh,
the things I didn’t do!
Choices
that affected other’s lives
More
compassion here, more forgiveness there
The
phone calls I didn’t make
The words
I didn’t say
The
taste of bitter ashes on my tongue
More
potent for their age
All
I Want
All I want is to walk in Grace
To
live my life under the wide sky
With
a good horse under me
And
endless country in front of me
All
I want is to make each day count
For
something; no matter how small
I
fed a stray dog the rest of my sandwich
I
put seed out for the birds and food for the feral cats
All
I want is to be happy in my skin
To
know I’ve done the best I can
With
what I had to work with today
And
know that I will try to do the same tomorrow
All
I want is the wide sky sweet with dawn
And
the morning breeze on my face
Followed
by the burning blue
With
the sun at its zenith
All
I want is the golden sky of sunset
And
the dry prairie wind hot on my neck
The
softness of evening gilding the range
As
the gold melts into the royal blue of night
All
I want is the silver of moonlight
To
throw shadows across my bed
While
the song of the coyote rides through the night
To
know that all is right with my world
Till next month, be well, be happy.
Monday, April 17, 2023
A Plot Is Just A Plan by Janet Lane Walters #BWLAuthor #MFRWAuthor #Writing #Plot #Plan
Many years ago, more than fifty, I went to hear a NYTimes Best Selling Author speak at an all day event in Pittsburgh. The first thing he said was "A plot is just a plan." The plan is where your characters play their roles. I took this to heart and read books on writing and focused on Plot.
Just what does this mean. Think of the plot of your story being like planning a trip using a road map. There is a starting place. Why are the characters in this particular place? What do they plan? How does the plot and setting effect their decisions and directions.
Once the characters have set off on their way toward the goal they have selected, you come to the middle. This may be where the characters remain on the road or perhaps take a side trip of two. The middle of the plot shows the decisions they make and what changes those decisions may cause.
The end of the journey shows they have either succeeded, failed or changed their initial goal. This includes the crisis, the moment of decision and then the characters leave the plot, happily My Places
https://www.facebook.com/janet.l.walters.3?v=wall&story_f
http://wwweclecticwriter.blogspot.com
https://www.pinterest.com/shadyl717/
Buy Mark
https://bookswelove.net/walters-janet-lane/
or sadly but always the road ends in a satisfactory way.
Sunday, April 16, 2023
Capturing the reader's emotions, by J.C. Kavanagh
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| Book 3 of the award-winning Twisted Climb series: A Bright Darkness https://www.bookswelove.net/kavanagh-j-c/ |
When I began to write creatively, I wanted to write a story that would have some kind of impact on my readers - whether they be teenagers, young adults, or a young-at-heart adult. I didn't want to preach a narrative; rather, I wanted the characters to react to real life drama and adventure in a way that would resonate with the reader. The character evoked the response in the reader, either by what they said or what they did. If the character becomes 'real' in the mind of the reader, then the character's emotion becomes the reader's emotion. That, my friend, is a fine, visceral line for the author to convey.
J.C. Kavanagh, author of
The Twisted Climb - A Bright Darkness (Book 3)
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
Twitter @JCKavanagh1 (Author J.C. Kavanagh)
Instagram @authorjckavanagh
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