Does God Talk To You? I’ve been in another publishing funk of late where I’ve really begun to question the wisdom of continuing to write. Why? I whine to myself like a grouchy two-year-old. Why, when there are so many aspects of indie publishing I abhor, am I still doing…
She had been in a nursing home for several years, deteriorating at a snail’s pace. On my annual visits, my brother and I would question the wisdom of stockpiling old people in places like this.
From where he sits on the sofa, Vivaldi on the portable CD player next to him, he sees everything but can make sense of nothing. His home gleams. Not a spot of dust anywhere. His wife, with nothing else to do but care for him, has become obsessive. Dust she can control. A husband whose mind deteriorates a little more each day is beyond her.
“What’s it like to be dead?” she asked him, her voice barely above a whisper.
She tried to imagine it when he didn’t respond. She thought it would be cold. Lonely. Much like her life now. She rubbed her arms as the breeze became a cold wind, gusting against her. She fell against Johnny’s stone, hugging it to keep herself upright.
Rosa Parks did not yell and scream. She did not have a mob behind her yelling and screaming about her rights as a woman and as a human being. Rosa Parks sat on a bus and refused to move. Hers is just one example of demonstrating power. As a woman and as a human being. We could all learn from her example.
Picky Reader Reads Again I used to do Picky Reader blogs about the books I read for pleasure. I’d say whether I liked the book or didn’t. But as an author I decided I probably shouldn’t be critical of other authors’ works. Even though I tried not be too critical.…
There But For the Grace of God Go I I get out of my car in the supermarket parking lot at the same time a car slowly cruises by. The woman driver stops and asks if I can help her out. She’s trying to get to the nearby gas station…
“We did the best we could.”
At the time I thought, yeah right. That was your best? Well, it wasn’t nearly good enough. Parents of their generation didn’t compliment their children because they didn’t want them to get a big head.
my audience is a lot like me: female; avid fiction reader; enjoys various romance genres and women’s fiction, suspense and mystery; mature; intelligent; loves libraries; owns a computer and an ebook reading device; has a smart phone she fears is smarter than she is; doesn’t completely grasp or understand social media but makes the attempt to; won’t waste time on bad books; takes advantage of senior discounts if available.
“Everything we own is stuffed in our cart. My favorite bone, his Purple Heart…” Lyrics from Couple of Strays
