Friday, March 7, 2025
Meet Louisa and Vivian by Eileen O'Finlan

The Unexpected Gift Inside a Book by Eileen O'Finlan

Thursday, March 6, 2025
A Rock and Roll Story by Scot Bihlman
Hello from Los Angeles! I’m excited to announce the release of my new book, Zen Tones, and thrilled to be part of the amazing BWL community! This book chronicles a musical journey through the challenges of the entertainment industry, while also exploring life through philosophy, psychology, and creativity. Along the way, it’s filled with motorcycle adventures and tattoos! Are there any motorcycle enthusiasts or tattoo lovers out there? Feel free to share your stories—what do they mean to you, and what journeys have they represented?
And always remember to stay zen, setting your tone to love and respect for both yourself and others.
Tuesday, March 4, 2025
Out of Hibernation
And so our Minnesota winter is coming to an end.
It's time to do the slow wake up like the black bear. My muscles are aching to stretch and be pressed to their limits again. The hard ground feels different under my feet now that I'm wearing paddock boots or tennis shoes that hug my feet and encourage me to run instead of trudge. It's like when I was a kid and got a new pair of tennies and thought they made me run super-fast. Quite different from the bulky mukluks that warm to -30 degrees.
It's time to dream of green plants and baby chicks. My green thumb is itching, so I bought a seed starter kit. We'll see if the cat doesn't have her way with that little setup in the window. My longing for new life won over my good sense, so I am also collecting eggs for the incubator. Can you have too many chickens? I think not.
It's time to plan summery adventures. A Harley trip out to Yellowstone National Park ought to do the trick. Another trip to North Dakota is a must too. I miss my Kuntz Nokota Ranch family! And who knows what other getaways will crop up as the days go by and the farm sitters remain willing.
But it's also time to play at home. Make crafty stuff I don't really need. Ride my horses and love on them without the bulk of layer upon layer of Carhartt. Run out to get the mail or quickly close the chicken coop without spending ten minutes dressing for it. Watch my flowers grow. Listen to my birds sing. Soak up the sun on the back porch in the afternoon with the dogs as the poplars and birch sway in the background.
It's time to swipe away the sleepy cobwebs in my dusty mind and get back into action mode. I am excited about a speaking event coming up this month at the local library where I will promote Echoes of the Nokota. It's always an honor to tell folks about Frank Kuntz and the Nokota horses. Maybe some spring horse events will provide opportunities too. Most of us are ready to creep out of our winter nests.
And finally, it's time to keep writing! The second installment of Forever Fields is underway. I am popping and humming and brimming with ideas. What fun it is to launch again into a world I have already prepared with Nokota Voices. Paisley Noon and her faithful dog Prairie and steady steed Journey have so much more to come!
Happy Spring, everyone. And happy writing!
Local Author Visit: Julie Christen In-Person
How has one man’s life mission to make an unjust thing right – save North Dakota’s native horses – changed history? Never in his dreams did Frank Kuntz think that he would become the one they were waiting for.
This is Frank’s story.
Join us at the Cambridge Library as local author, Julie Christen shares her inspiration for her non-fiction book, Echoes of the Nokota.
Julie lives in central Minnesota and has all her life. She has taught 8th grade English plus 6th and 8th grade health in the same room in the same district for nearly 30 years. Some say she has “staying power”. She is fiercely dedicated to the things in life that make her heart happy – books books books, her family, her animals, and her writing. She and her superhuman husband ride a Harley and their horses when they’re not working on some part of Small Potatoes farm.
- Date:
- Saturday, March 22, 2025
- Time:
- 10:00am - 11:00am
- Time Zone:
- Central Time - US & Canada (change)
- Location:
- Opportunity Room (seating for 24)
- Library:
- Cambridge Public Library
- Audience:
- Adults Seniors Teens
- Categories:
- Authors & Writing

Sunday, March 2, 2025
Getting into a new kind of Bind by donalee Moulton
We’re leaving winter behind and welcoming spring. This spring is particularly celebratory. I’m welcoming a new book. Bind is the first in my series, the Lotus Detective Agency. I thought this month I’d share an excerpt with you – and would love your feedback.
Here’s a little background:
Everything
that happens in a yoga studio is not Zen. Sometimes it’s grand larceny. Three
yogis, two cops, and one damn cute dog join forces to discover who’s stolen a Patek
Philippe watch from what was supposed to be a secure locker. Time is ticking.
And here’s the
excerpt.
From Bind
Ten yogis are in various stretches, twists, meditations, and yawns when Kristi walks back into the studio. She forces a smile, and the smile spreads of its own accord into her muscles, her bones, her heart. This is her sanctuary. She is at home here. The rawness she feels is still there, but it has moved to the edges now.
Today’s bind is a yogi squat. One leg is
extended; the other is bent. One arm goes under the bent leg; the other goes
around the back until they meet. In theory. Lexie can’t wait until this month
is over, and it’s only day three. Bhodi looks around the room to see if anyone
else has completed the bind. Surprisingly, Honey seems to have easily
maintained the squat and the bind. Bonnie begins the countdown until she can
come out of the contortion, which for her is a little squat and a hint of a
bind.
Kristi takes this opportunity to explain
the benefits of binds. “These poses allow muscles to release, relax, and open. You
can go deeper. You can also focus on alignment and flexibility while building
strength.” She breathes in.
“Dear God,” thinks Lexie, “there’s more.”
“If you make her stop,” Bonnie says to her
higher spirit, “I will give you my first born.”
Kristi continues to talk, and smile.
“Remember to breathe when you’re in the bind. Don’t tighten. And come out of
the bind if you feel any pain. Go to your edge, but no further.”
Archina isn’t sure where her edge is, but
she fears she left it behind several minutes ago. Woo Woo unbinds. She believes
in the mind, body, spirit philosophy of yoga, but enough of this shit.
If it’s one thing Kristi knows, it’s how to
read a room full of yogis. The edge has been reached. She tells everyone to
stand up, give themselves a hug, and as a special treat, this morning there
will be an extended savasana that includes a meditation. (Kristi always has a
guided meditation on her phone.) The room smiles, even Bhodi. Eleven bodies
move from the vertical to the horizontal. Archina grabs a blanket; Lexie puts a
bolster under her knees; Kevin, the newest member of the group, reaches for his
socks.
The Dalai Lama is midway through his
13-minute meditation on the disturbed mind when the studio door opens. Twelve
faces turn to look at the human who belongs to the shoes that just clomped into
their zen-like state. All twelve agree, zen is overrated. Standing at the
entranceway to the studio is a 6’2” man with ripped muscles, ebony skin, and a
three-day stubble. “He can bind with me any time he wants,” Kevin thinks.
It takes the intruder less than a second to
realize he has interrupted the class at an inopportune time. “I’m so sorry,” he
says. “I thought class was over.”
“We’re running a little late,” says Kristi
in a voice the class has not heard before.
“Please continue,” says Ripped. “I will
come back.”
“Too late now,” says Bhodi. He gets the
evil eye from most of the class.
“How can we help?” says Kristi introducing
herself.
Ripped steps forward, hand extended. “My
name is Michael …”
Before he can continue, Woo Woo interjects.
“No, it isn’t. Your name is Lewis.”
The demi-god looks at her in surprise. He’s
not alone. The whole class stares at Woo Woo.
“I’m so sorry,” Woo Woo says turning a deep
magenta. “I don’t know why I said that.” But she does. Sometimes a thought, an
image, a tickertape runs through Woo Woo’s mind. She knows it’s a message, and
she usually tries to convey it. On this occasion, she wishes she hadn’t.
Michael turns back to Kristi, leader of the
pack. “Terrell. Michael Terrell.”
“Did you want to join the class?” Bhodi
asks. The snark is obvious.
“Please,” thinks Kevin. “Please join.”
Terrell smiles. “It’s on my bucket list,
but today I’m here for a less pleasant reason. I’m a detective with the Halifax
Police Department. I’m looking into a watch that seems to have gone missing
from the gym.”
Kristi tries to control her breathing. No
one else tries to control anything. Lexie’s eyes fly wide open. Charlene gasps.
Bonnie recoils.
Honey farts.
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