THE CAT’S MEOW
FOR WRITERS & READERS EZINE®
A MONTHLY ONLINE PROGRESSIVE MAGAZINE
Not Your
Typical Internet-based Magazine; No Links to Read the Rest of an Article!
Issue 30, Vol. 07, © MAY 10, 2007, Ezine: ISSN:
2237-65
Magazine
dedicated to: Carman Catalano, Harold Clinton Welch, Pauline Mullé Infranco and
Joseph Infranco.
PLEASE NOTE: Our subscriber list is NOT made available
to others, including companies. We value every subscriber and respect your
privacy. Although, we are NOT responsible for web site links that do not work
unless they have been inserted into mine or the executive editor’s columns;
then we are responsible, we apologize and will correct it as soon as possible…
However, please notify us at The Publisher’s Box™ if any links are not
working or are the wrong links. Thank you!
IN THIS
ISSUE:
BIRTHDAY
WISHES CORNER!
BEST
POEM OF THE MONTH! CORNER:
“A Memorial Day Message” By Cynthia
Groopman
FROM THE
PUBLISHER & EDITOR-IN-CHIEF’S CORNER
Rosanne Catalano
FROM THE
EXECUTIVE EDITOR’S CORNER
Nancy Currie
OFF THE PRESS!
(Author Book
Releases, Publishing News, Reading Group News
& Calls for Submissions from Publishers)
COFFEE HOUSE 4 POETS & WRITERS CORNER
(Every Month
Published Artistic Talent – New and Established!)
POEMS, SHORT STORIES, STORY ARTICLES AND ESSAYS
By Teresa Del Mastro
“White
Knight”
A Short Story
By Shelly Wiseberg
“Outsider”
“Disorder”
Poetry
By Joan Skura
“Intermission”
A
Short Story
By Carol Roach
“I
Remember Laddie”
“A Fatherless Child”
Story Articles
“The
Essence of Me”
A Poem
“Tea:
A Simple Foundation of Life”
“Room
10”
Story Articles
By Sandra Lee Hoynacki
“For
Time and Eternity”
“Battered
Basin”
“
Poetry
By Pamela Perry Blaine
“The
Princess”
“The
Miracle of Spring”
Story Articles
By Cynthia Groopman
“Joy
Joy Joy”
“The
Evening’s Coolness”
“A
Greeting to the Month of May”
“A
Memorial Day Message”
“Admiring
the Beautiful Flowers of Springtime”
Poetry
By Debby Sorensen Carlson
“You
Are So Living”
A Poem
By R. Thomas Thompson
“Died
– Part 2”
A Serialized
Short Story
By Alan Britt
“Contemplating
Summer”
“Summer
Rains on the Garden”
“The
Lion in the Grass, or Seeing Life as it Really Is”
Poetry
By Bryon D. Howell
“Three
Ain’t Company”
“The
Pits of Hell”
“A
Creepy Collaboration”
Poetry
FEATURE
ARTICLE
By Audrey Frederick,
“We Cannot Take Pet Food for Granted”
HELPFUL
ARTICLES
By Susan Scharfman,
“Vital Facts to Keep Dogs and Cats Alive &
Healthy”
By Charlie Cook
“Should You Give Up On Cold Calling as a Small
Business Marketing Tool?”
By Judy Cullins
“Promote Your Book Online with a Short Article
(Updated)”
By Derek Huizinga
“The Key to Site Exposure”
By Sandra G. Williams
“3 Tips on How To Sell for the Shy and Fearful”
By Gena Hymowech
“The Right to Rewrite: Does Your Editor Have It?”
By Enrico Schaefer
“Domain Name Theft”
By Dale Mazurek
“Anti-Aging For Baby Boomers”
BIRTHDAY WISHES CORNER!
HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO:
Barry D. Infranco
Birthday:
May 4th
(we hope you had a happy 57th birthday,
Uncle Barry)!
Marianna D’Onofrio
Birthday:
May 5th, 1992
Mary J. Welch-Palmer
Birthday:
May 19th
May all your birthday wishes come true!
To see your birthday wishes here,
email us with your name (first & last, or just first name) and birth-day
(year is optional)!
BEST POEM OF THE MONTH CORNER!
A Memorial Day Message
By Cynthia Groopman
Abiding in my thoughts
Are the many lessons of courage and bravery
All of you dear soldiers have taught
Cower or hide, you did not do
As you gallantly fought to preserve the Red, White
and Blue
In distant and foreign lands, you did fight;
enabling us to cherish and rejoicefully bask
In freedom’s precious golden light
In the throes of adversity, you did not wince or cry
aloud
As you displayed such heroism standing tall and proud
For in high esteem we cherish and value you,
with deepest appreciation and admiration;
everlasting and true.
Copyright © 2007 Cynthia
Groopman.
__
Be sure to read more of Cynthia Groopman’s wonderful poetry and all
about the author
in our Coffee House 4 Poets &
Writers Corner [below]!!
PUBLISHER &
EDITOR-IN-CHIEF’S CORNER
By Rosanne
Catalano
Hello my
dear readers, and welcome to all our new members! I hope you’re as excited as I am about the warmer weather
finally arriving! Warmth and sun brings peace to my soul, as it always has
during the spring & summer seasons. Which may have something to do with the
fact I was born a week before summer begins J. But I’ll tell you what didn’t bring
peace and contentment to my soul but despondency instead. That was reading an
email last month from The Humane Society of the United States (HSUS)!
Normally I shy away from discussing anything even
remotely political here, but what I’m about to tell you could save the lives of
baby harp seals who are being clubbed and/or shot to death on the ice floes of
Canada, and, yes, WE CAN HELP stop the killing of these innocent pups from ever
happening in the future! Let me explain. As I mentioned above, I received an
email last month from The Humane Society of the United States (HSUS) and was
immensely bereft to read that the cruel Seal Hunt had continued this year…last
year I sent a letter to the Canadian government about stopping their inhumane
killing of seals, and I also contributed some of my hard-earned money to
ProtectSeals™ to help them STOP Canada’s cruel Seal Hunt. It did no good! The
Seal Killing (as I call it) continued this year. From March to April, 80% of
the Canadian seals were bludgeoned to death by men who sanction this by calling
it a way for fishermen to help with their incomes. I’m sure they can find
another way to earn extra income!
Now I love Canada and have dear friends who live in
Canada (they also find the Seal Hunt cruel and inhumane), but I see the Canadian
government is not listening to even their own citizens…122,900 emails to
Canada’s Prime Minister, 78,700 emails to Canada’s Minister of International
Trade, and 18,900 messages sent in support of ENDING Canada’s cruel and
needless commercial seal hunt did no good;
What does Canadian seafood have to do with fishermen
clubbing to death baby harp seals? I’ll tell you what The HSUS told me two years
ago when they first notified me of this travesty, and when I began my fight
alongside The Humane Society of the United States’ and ProtectSeals’™ to end
the cruel and inhumane clubbing of baby seals…
“Seal hunting is an off-season activity conducted by
fishermen from
“Animal and environmental
protection organizations have negotiated for years with the Canadian government
to put an end to its seal hunt—the largest commercial slaughter of marine
mammals in the world. But as the killing and the cruelty of the hunt escalate, it
is clear
“It is the connection between
commercial fisheries and the seal hunt, and the economics of both industries,
which makes a boycott of Canadian seafood product a logical next step in ending
the annual hunt. And it is consumers and businesses that purchase Canadian
seafood who have the power to convince the Canadian government and individual
fishermen to stop the slaughter of baby seals.”
Fast facts about the Seal
Hunt:
- Fully 95% of the harp seals killed
over the past five years have been under three months of age. At the time
of slaughter, many of these defenseless pups had not yet eaten their first
solid food or taken their first swim—they literally had no escape from the
"hunters."
- Video evidence clearly shows sealers
routinely dragging conscious pups across the ice with boathooks, shooting
seals and leaving them to suffer in agony, and even skinning seals alive.
- In 2001, an independent team of
veterinary experts studied
- Over the past three years, nearly a
million seal pups have been slaughtered for their fur.
- The last time sealers killed this
many seals—in the 1950s and '60s—close to two-thirds of the harp seal
population was wiped out.
- Scientists around the world have
condemned the Canadian government's management plan for harp seals as
reckless, unsustainable, and irresponsible.
–The Humane Society of the
Please,
please help The HSUS stop the seal hunt & killing! This awful
carnage of these beautiful baby harp seals must STOP!! Thank you so much. I’ve
been fighting to stop the killing for two years now but it continued this year,
and I’m as heartsick as other’s who are fighting to save these pups’
lives…please let’s not let have this happen again next year!
Now onto a more pleasant topic…I would like to CONGRATULATE CYNTHIA GROOPMAN for her poem, “A Memorial Day Message” being chosen as BEST POEM for this month! I would also like to congratulate
her again on winning Honorary Awards from the Police Precinct Civilian
Observation Patrol Presidential Award (114th Civ-OP; located in
Astoria, Queens, New York) and New York City’s Liberty Award, way to go
Cynthia!
Cynthia Groopman (alone, with
If you haven’t
already read Wt~In Spirit, for which I write a column [titled “Scripture
Understood”], you truly don’t know what you’re missing because it is an
awesomely inspirational literary print-magazine with excellent poetry, stories
and columns in praise of our Creator! Wt~In
Spirit’s next issue will be out June 15th,
2007, and it’s a definite must-read!
Published editors, authors & columnists’ in Wt~In
Spirit are:
Karin
Lacroix [From the Editor]; founder, publisher & editor of Wt~In Spirit
Rev.
Karl Kessler [My Pastor, My Friend…]
Carol
Roach [Tapestry of the Word]
Trisha
Martin [When Little Ones Talk]
Rosanne
Catalano [Scripture Understood]
Along with many
other inspirational writing-contributors you’ve just got to read! For
only $25.00 a year you
will receive 6 issues [it’s a bi-monthly magazine] of Wt~In Spirit ($50 for two years).
Sorry guys, it’s a print-only magazine and cannot be read online but you can
order a year’s worth of inspirational Christian poetry, stories and columns by
subscribing at inspirit@wynter.ca!
Like an enchanted cottage, you are enchanted too.
This is why I also invite you into The Enchanted Self’s website. Founded by positive psychologist, happiness
coach and published author Dr. Barbara Becker Holstein, she shows, tells and inspires you on how to live a
more positive life in her many helpful and inspirational books, also with her
inspirational quotes and lovely Enchanted merchandise! Dr. Barbara Becker Holstein’s website and free eNewsletter
is an enchanted cottage you truly must see…
If You Are a
Freelance Writer:
Do read the “Queen Bee of Filbert Publishing”, Beth Ann Erickson’s eBook, “101 No Cost or Low Cost Techniques to Turbo
Charge Your Freelance Income”! Go to http://rckayla.filbertpub.hop.clickbank.net to pick up your copy of Beth’s
eBook today; she offers a ton of helpful advice on how to earn more than
pennies for your freelance work.
Also check out our ‘Helpful
Links’ Page on this website for other interesting and fun sites that
may be of interest to you.
See you all next month … until then,
Happy
Mother’s Day to All!
Also
Please Do Not Forget Our Veterans
on
Memorial Day!
Now please WELCOME executive editor Nancy Currie,
(my right-hand gal), along with our many authors; some new, some established who have written poems,
short stories and helpful informative articles for you. If you are moved by
what they have written, please do let them know by email, or by visiting their
websites. [Email addresses and websites are listed in our author’s bios.] Our
writing-contributors love hearing from their fans, so thank you from our writers
and authors.
© May 10, 2007 Rosanne Catalano.
EXECUTIVE EDITOR’S CORNER
By Nancy Currie
The Editor is on vacation.
© May 10, 2007
OFF THE PRESS!
(Author Book
Press Releases, Publishing News, Reading Group News
& Calls for Submissions from Publishers)!
“MIRRORED IMAGES”
A New Book
By ROSANNE CATALANO
The Cat’s Meow for Writers &
Readers Publisher!
On
Rosanne Catalano is excited to introduce her new book “Mirrored Images” to you, because it’s a quick read at only 55
pages! And is a book containing her
collection of short stories, story articles and two poems (some fiction, some fact!) written
by her for your reading enjoyment, and for those who love guessing games! “Mirrored Images” by Rosanne Catalano
begins with a poem about,
and dedication to, her late father (and still-living-mother) and goes into a
short story about an experience with bullying in the eighth grade of school to
being saved by a guardian angel when the story character was in her mid-30’s.
An interesting read in which you, the reader, may want to guess which of her
stories are fiction or fact…
Her next book Mirrored
Images [2] (which she has already begun writing) will
be a continuation of “Mirrored
Images” but it will be
her very first
novel that will begin where this Mirrored Images
leaves off. Mirrored Images [2], is
coming soon…stay tuned for further details!
“Mirrored
Images” is available to purchase for only $8.75 in
a downloadable eBook, $17.51 for the
print edition!
Be sure to pick up your copy of “Mirrored
Images” today at Lulu Press and/or Rosanne’s web site: www.rosannecatalano.net.
Ordering Info for Rosanne Catalano’s
book:
Mirrored
Images by Rosanne Catalano
Publisher:
Jane W. (Lulu Press)
Publication Date: January
2007
Price: [Paperback print-book] $17.51; [Download book] $8.75
55 pgs, and can be
purchased at: Lulu Press
or at: www.rosannecatalano.net
_________________________________________________________________________
“Absolutely the
Last Resort” and
“Where Are
You?”
Novels by Rose
Anna Schoene
Absolutely the Last Resort is the debut novel of author Rose Anna Schoene.
Rose Anna is a native New Yorker who made her writing debut with
Absolutely the Last
Resort, a
charming and nostalgic family-oriented book, which fictionalizes many of the
author’s personal experiences owning a resort in the Catskill Mountains of New
York for over 30 years. This book reflects just one aspect of the author’s life
and creative talents, and introduces us to her artistic and comedic nature.
She has a writing style that is both entertaining
and uplifting which reflects Rose Anna’s true writing persona; yet she proves the
versatility of her literary scope with her second novel, WHERE ARE YOU?, which offers a serious, dramatic and
paranormal-love storyline and is now available on Amazon.com, Barnes &
Noble.com and Seaburn.com…
“WHERE ARE YOU?”, Rose Anna Schoene’s second book, is about Dr. Joy Evans and Dr.
Dean Judson, who collide in the corridors of St. John’s Hospital—their
introduction is the beginning of a torrid and tender love. Two weeks later,
they are married and in six months they relocate to the state of
Rose Anna’s book publisher, Seaburn Press, says more
copies of “Absolutely the Last Resort” can be ordered, as can copies of Rose Anna’s
second book “Where
Are You?” by going
to:
http://associates.amazon.com/rosancataandth-20, http://www.bn.com,
or http://www.seaburn.com
Ordering Info for Rose Anna Schoene’s books:
Absolutely the Last
Resort by Rose Anna Schoene
Publisher: Seaburn
Press
Publication
Date: 2003
144 pgs, ISBN:
1592320600, Price: $14.95
Where Are You? by Rose Anna Schoene
Publisher: Seaburn
Press
Publication Date: 2006
124 pgs, ISBN:
1592320090, Price: $14.95
_________________________________________________________________________
“ANGELS WATCHING OVER ME”
A NEW BOOK
BY CAROL ROACH
STORYTIME TAPESTRY PUBLISHER!
[http://subs.zinester.com/98907]
Attention everyone, a new
Carol Roach, a graduate of both
She is truly the champion of the underdog. Carol’s
signature writing is about poverty and the ability to rise above it. She
strives to give women and men a voice through the written word. Her writing is
poignant and inspirational. Ms. Roach also publishes a daily online-newsletter, Storytime
Tapestry, where she encourages everyone to “let their true heart sing” through the words they write.
Her new book “Angels Watching Over Me” is rich with character
while it underlines the issues of survival in one of
About Carol’s Book:
Carissa Forbes, a young Black girl of seventeen,
leaves her beloved family in rural
Carissa has an extraordinary ability to communicate
with angels. In all of this, Carissa maintains contact with the spirit world
even when she ignores their warnings. Imaginary friends, dreams, fortune
tellers and special numbers all play an integral part of this woman’s life
until the end of her journey.
Once her daughter marries and creates a life for
herself, Carissa is at peace. Her angels have come through for her and she is
finally happy.
ANGELS WATCHING OVER ME
Is On
At Lulu Press!
Here is what a prominent Amazon.com reviewer has said
about Carol Roach’s new book:
Angels Watching Over Me
By Carol Roach
“In this wonderful work by gifted author and publisher Carol Roach we meet a very special girl named Carissa. Carissa’s life has been
anything but easy. She had known the scorn of poverty; the battle of rejection,
the sorrow of death. However, Carissa has a quality that hinges almost on the
supernatural; her faith and assurance in a God who is more than enough. We are
taken through the life of Carissa from her youth in a small rural community and
her family to her final victory as a woman who never comprised despite the
hardships such decisions would bring. Her life stood as a testimony. This is a
deep heartfelt read; one that shows the strength and courage of the human
spirit despite at times cruel circumstances and unfair situations. The author
definitely draws you into the very heart of Carissa merging you with the fight
and strength that she possesses during her entire life. Her unselfish love is
the main attribute that shone out to me and one that I think author Carol Roach
did an exceptional job at portraying.
If you want to read a story of the heart, this one is
for you. A compelling story of a woman, a time and a future where one can
actually say, ‘everything turned out all right.’ It might have happened much
later than we as the reader may have wanted, but perhaps that is exactly how
life for most of us plays out. Well done Ms. Roach!”
--Shirley Johnson,
Senior Reviewer
* * * * * *
Now for the Ordering Info to purchase Carol Roach’s
book:
Angels Watching Over
Me by Carol Roach
Publisher:
Janelle McCarthy
Publication Date:
March 2007
244 pages, and
can be purchased at Lulu Press
Price: [Paperback
print] $13.41; [Download] $4.00
___________________________________
ANNOUNCING
THE GRAND OPENING
OF
AUTHOR & COLUMNIST
TRISHA MARTIN’S
ALL-NEW WEBSITE;
NOW UP & RUNNING!
GO TO TRISHA’S WORLD AT:
www.freewebs.com/sayinsomethang
TO SEE HER WONDERFUL & INSPIRING
WEBSITE!
We know you’re going to love being in Trisha Martin’s website as much as we do!
So why not come and take a look-see; we know
you’ll want to stay!
___________________________________
“My Naked Mind: An Intimate
Collection of Poetry”
A Book by Trisha Martin
Review:
“The words contained within the pages of Trisha Martin’s book are filled with compelling,
deep, emotional and inspirational poems that readers should be able to identify
with. Each poem is written with clarity as the author pours her heart and soul
into her writing. If you're a poetry lover who likes reading personal works of
others, this book of poetry is a must-read!”
Trisha also writes a youth column
titled “When Little Ones Talk” for Wt~In Spirit Christian
Literary print-magazine. And she is working on several more collections
of poetry before she starts publishing her works of fiction (see below info
about Trisha’s second book titled “Trisha Speaks: More Thoughts from My Naked Mind”).
She will also be creating and writing her own newsletter titled “My Sister’s Voice”
along with finalizing plans to open up her small business; a t-shirt slogan
business, and creating and opening her very own author website…stay tuned for
further details about Trisha’s
t-shirt slogan business, and please see above again for the announcement of the
Grand Opening of her all-new website!
A Reader’s
Review of “My Naked Mind: An Intimate Collection of
Poetry”:
“I have never read poetry so vividly written, taking
me on a continuous journey from emotion to emotion!”
To purchase Trisha’s book go to: http://associates.amazon.com/rosancataandth-20, http://www.bn.com
or www.publishamerica.com.
Ordering Info for Trisha Martin’s
book:
My
Naked Mind: An Intimate Collection of Poetry by Trisha
Martin
Publisher: Publish America
Publication date: April 2005
84 pgs, ISBN: 1413744540
Price: $14.95
Stay tuned for Trisha’s
second book “Trisha
Speaks: More Thoughts from My Naked Mind” and her newsletter “My Sister’s Voice,” coming soon… Also please see the above announcement for
Trisha’s new
author website, and spread the word about her excellent and inspiring site (www.freewebs.com/sayinsomethang)!
___________________________________
“Growing up Barefoot
in the South (essays by a Southern Writer)”
A Book by BARBARA
DEMING
RECEIVE AN AUTHOGRAPHED
COPY FROM BARBARA HERSELF!
Barbara Deming
says about her book: “Those of you who know me well understand that this
is a book dear to my heart. I always say that I am a Southerner first and an
American second--those Southern roots go way, way back and are very deep
despite the fact that I now live in California--well, at least it's Southern
California! This book will carry you back to a time and place when life was
simple, to small towns where the only rule of law was that everyone knew what you
were doing--just the place for a tomboy who loved to get into mischief as well
as climb mulberry trees to write. Take a trip back to those ‘good old
days’ where love for family, country and church were the values learned.”
Barbara’s
books
are available at: http://www.amazon.com
and http://www.barnesandnoble.com or you can
obtain an autographed copy of each from the author herself by emailing her at tejasbabs@aol.com
Also do check out Barbara’s free monthly newsletter, “Barbara Deming’s Writing Tips,” and her
inspirational newsletter “Soul Sisters!” To
subscribe to both newsletters, go to: http://barbarademing.lifeartz.com, or
email Barbara at: demingwrites@aol.com
Barbara Deming, author, writing instructor,
publisher & editor
(The
Quilt Maker, 2003) and (Growing up Barefoot in the
South [essays by a Southern Writer], 2006)
__________________________________
THE GIFT OF GABE PROMOTIONS ANNOUNCES:
THE LENNON CODE?
Few people have
heard of the novel The Gift of Gabe.
Two years ago even fewer people had heard of it. In these days of big budget
mass marketing, books that are published by small publishers often have
difficulty finding an audience. Without an advertising budget, word of this
book has been spreading. Early readers fascinated by the book's inclusive
spirituality, told others. An internet forum for people who study Gnosticism
picked up on the book two summers ago, making it their topic of discussion for
two months.
Some Beatles fans
became interested after the reviewer for the online music magazine Ear Candy recommended it saying, "I
was also fascinated by the interpretations of Beatles lyrics in the book,
especially after having read about every book imaginable on Beatles song analysis." Shortly after the review in Ear Candy, information about the book
showed up on What Goes On, a website dedicated to Beatles news. Canadian
readers with an interest in the paranormal picked up on the book after the
author was interviewed on The X Zone Radio Show. There has been buzz about the
book by Beatles fans in places as far apart as Israel, The Netherlands,
Ireland, Finland, and Russia, places far removed from the book's northern New
England setting.
The book is the
story of meeting an eccentric old man who discusses his spiritual philosophy
including the belief that people who have had certain experiences can
communicate these experiences to each other in a symbolic language that is not
readily understandable to most people. What most readers find fascinating is
that many familiar songs are interwoven throughout the story and looked at in a
way that is unique and thought provoking. A reviewer for Bookpleasures said,
"Actually, it is primarily through Gabe's radical interpretations of the
mentioned songs that one tends to become convinced of his perspective's
veracity." Many of the songs are so familiar to people that the author was
able to do this without directly quoting the lyrics. A reviewer for Mystic
Living Today wrote, "There are many wonderful songs, book references, and
passages throughout that are beautifully brought to life under the author's
direct and interesting first person style."
While many
readers seem to be focusing on the Beatles songs referenced in the book, songs
by Jimi Hendrix and others are also referenced by the main character to help
illustrate spiritual concepts. The
volume of examples given and the interconnections between songs and artists
have led many to conclude that there is truth in what the main character says.
One of Gabe's claims is that during certain creative states some people can
'channel' the Universal Mind and be unaware that they are doing so. Gabe cites
Plato and many others to support this concept. Purported examples are given
including songs by Lennon, McCartney, and Harrison. Gabe believes that this
experience is what some of the Sufi call shathiyat and what Joseph Campbell
called transcendent poetry. What may be most controversial is Gabe's claim that
this archetypical poetic experience is 'the speaking in tongues' of the early
Christians. It is probably this concept that has appealed to readers who
identify themselves as being 'new age'. Word of the book has shown up on
websites like The Holistic Bulletin.
The reviewer for
Mystic Living Today said, "I would recommend this book to anyone who likes
an enlightened and spiritual read…" One of the things that differentiates’
The Gift of Gabe from other books in the visionary fiction genre is that it
incorporates factual information and events in a way that is similar to
historical fiction. Some readers have had a scholarly interest in the book
seeing it as a modern myth that incorporates the philosophy of Aldous Huxley,
Alan Watts, G.I. Gurdjieff, and others. While some are predicting that the book
will become a countercultural classic, the book is clearly not for everyone. A
reviewer for Round Table Reviews wrote, "The Gift of Gabe is well written,
but the subject matter was too over the top for me." The same reviewer still recommended the book
for some saying, "Those with a strong interest in The Beatles and
philosophy will be thrilled with Brian
Joseph's novel."
For more information or to order Brian Joseph’s book, visit the official
website for “The Gift of Gabe” at http://www.giftofgabe.com/
__________________________________
Friends-- “WISDOMKEEPERS,” an American Classic book, which Harvey Arden co-authored with photographer Steve Wall in 1990, and was long out-of-print, has just been republished by Simon & Schuster/Atria and is available to purchase at most book outlets...
Best price is at Amazon.com:http://www.amazon.com/o/ASIN/158270158X/ref=pd_rvi_gw_1/002-6357253-1518437 “Wisdomkeepers: Meetings with Native American Spiritual Elders”By Steve Wall and Harvey Arden (Author Leonard Peltier’s book editor)
_______________________________________________________________ List Price: $29.95 Price: $19.77 and you’re eligible for FREE Super Saver Shipping on orders over $25.00 MAKES A MAGNIFICENT GIFT! ***************************************************************************More on Harvey Arden's work at: www.haveyouthought.com
Harvey Arden is available for speaking engagements-- harvey@haveyouthought.com
_________________________________
“The Ravenscar Dynasty”
A Novel by
Barbara Taylor Bradford
On
Power & money… Murder & revenge… Passion
& betrayal…Triumph & catastrophe… The Ravenscar Dynasty is the
debut novel in Barbara Taylor Bradford’s epic new series about the
Deravenel family. This sweeping saga, which spans 100 years, will follow three
generations bound by blood: torn by betrayal.
The
Ravenscar Dynasty by Barbara Taylor Bradford is now available from
Her book tour for The Ravenscar Dynasty across
the
Please see Barbara’s website for more info
on her latest book and other events she’s got going on this year: www.barbarataylorbradford.com
__________________________________
AVAST YE
MOMMIES AND DADDIES! BECOME
“PARENTS OF
THE
A NEW BOOK BY
HUMORIST WRITER TIM BETE
TEACHES PARENTS
HOW TO RAISE KIDS AS PIRATES
“Most parents have been on the wrong end of a
mutiny at one time or another,” says Tim Bete, author of the new book, “Cap’n Billy “The
Butcher” MacDougall’s Guide to Pirate Parenting: Why you should raise your kids
as pirates and 101 tips on how to do it” (2007, Cold Tree Press). “My book teaches parents every aspect of
pirate growth and development – from baby pirate care through the teen years –
so their kids can become self-respecting swashbucklers of the high seas or
suburbs”.
“Guide
to Pirate Parenting” answers
common questions such as:
- At
what age a child should be able to remove a bottle cap by taking out his glass
eye and using his eye socket as an opener
- Which
offense requires administering The Flying Dutchman Wedgie
- How
to prevent sogging the quartermaster
- The
best place to maroon a disobedient child
- How
to remove chewing gum or a giant octopus from a child’s hair
- How
to convert a minivan into a pirate schooner
Each information-packed section ends with “Your
pirate’s progress”; a short quiz that shows whether a child is reaching his or
her pirate development milestones. For example, if your son has said “I’ll need
another ration of grog if you expect me to eat these peas,” or told his teacher
his homework was “eaten by a giant barracuda when the family’s ship wrecked on
a coral reef near the Dry Tortugas,” your well on your way to having a pirate
in the family.
The book’s website (www.PirateParenting.com) is loaded to the gunnels with pirate fun,
including an excerpt from the book, Cap’n Billy’s random pirate schooner name
generator, a chance to plunder Cap’n Billy’s treasure chest, plus a quiz to see
if your child is already a pirate. The website even includes a few of Cap’n
Billy’s nursery rhymes for little pirates.
While Tim Bete’s first book, “In The Beginning…There Were No
Diapers” (2005, Sorin Books), was traditionally published, he decided to
self-publish “Guide to Pirate Parenting”. “I wanted to
find a traditional publisher, but Cap’n Billy said, ‘Asking a publisher to
print yer book is like asking a merchant vessel for permission to steal its
gold. It just ain’t the pirate way’.” Bete thought it best to follow the Captain’s advice,
especially since he had seen what happens to those who disobey orders.
“It’s Cap’n Billy’s dream that millions of parents
will raise their kids as pirates,” says Bete. “For years he’s had trouble
putting together a crew, and there’s no more exciting life than to sail with
the Cap’n, see the world, make new friends, and plunder them.”
Pirates of the
For more information and pirate fun, visit www.PirateParenting.com!
Contact Tim Bete at: Tim@PirateParenting.com
Cover Photo: http://www.pirateparenting.com/photos/photo.jpg
__________________________________
NEW CALL FOR
SUBMISSIONS!
In celebration of International Poetry Day, the Arabesques Review is now accepting submissions for two (2) upcoming
special issues! The Arabesques Review says: “We would be very honored to read and consider
your contribution for these upcoming anthology special issues.”
To
submit to the “Arabesques Review”, or for
more information, just click the following link for
their Submission Guidelines: http://www.arabesquespress.org/; or email them at: submissions@arabesquespress.org.
The special issues of the Arabesques Review are:
Vol
03, Issue 02: Contemporary Women Literature >>> Submission Deadline:
April 30, 2007-- NOW CLOSED.
Vol
03, Issue 03: Globalization >>> Submission Deadline:
June 30, 2007.
“Join us to envision a global culture of peace and
a sustainable world.”
__________________________________
“Grandfather’s
Journal”
A New Book by Chris Hansen
On
Grandfather’s Journal
By Chris Hansen
ISBN: 1-4257-0258-9 (Picture Book)
Subject: Juvenile Fiction / Religious / Christian
Reading Level: 4 -7
Age Level: 9 -13
A humorously touching story of a boy who overcomes his
fear of death and his boredom with Sunday school, when he meets the real Jesus
by reading his grandfather’s journal.
“Grandfather’s Journal” powerfully focuses on the resurrection of Christ
and its impact on children. Most people fear death throughout their lives.
Doubts and skepticism cloud their minds. And as time passes, children
eventually forget the true meaning of many church traditions they practiced in
childhood. The resurrection of Jesus Christ in this book begins an amazing
transformation on the characters in this heartwarming story changing them into
courageous believers. From the book’s pages, readers will find themselves
immersed by the influence of Christ as if they were the characters themselves.
Though the book is fictional, “Grandfather’s
Journal” contains much profound truth and its moral lessons make it attractive
to children and parent looking for a clear explanation of hope after death. Author
Chris Hansen’s picture book is no less amazing and inspiring. And his
book is now available for readers to pick up at their respective libraries and
bookstores.
To request a complimentary paperback review copy,
contact the publisher at (888) 795-4274 x. 472. Tear sheets may be sent by regular
or electronic mail to Marketing Services. To purchase copies of the book for
resale, please fax Xlibris at: (610) 915-0294, or call (888) 795-4274 x. 876.
Also Available online at:
http://www2.xlibris.com/bookstore/bookdisplay.asp?bookid=30074
The author Chris Hansen
has three (3) books available to purchase online: “Revelation Revisited”, “Secret of the Psalms”, and now “Grandfather’s Journal.” Chris holds a BA from
It is the author’s intention to touch the world,
one person at a time and one book at a time, with more to come. Though, you
will be all the more blessed to experience God using Chris, a blind man, to
give spiritual sight.
You can contact Chris Hansen at chrishansen54@sbcglobal.net
__________________________________
“Infinite
Space, Infinite God”
A New Science
Fiction Book
Edited by
Karina Fabian
WON THE EPPIE!
Karina Fabian, a
member of Storytime
Tapestry ezine, is pleased to announce that “Infinite Space, Infinite God” has won the EPPIE for Best Electronically
Published Science Fiction for 2007!
That it competed so well against secular works and
novels speaks well to the skill of the contributors.
“Infinite Space, Infinite God” will be released in print August 2007 via Twilight
Times Books, Amazon.com and Barnes and Noble.com (ISBN: 1-933353-62-7). For
more information, check out http://www.isigsf.tripod.com or http://www.freewebs.com/dragoneyepi
karina@fabianspace.com and http://www.fabianspace.com: Editor, Infinite Space, Infinite God, 2007 EPPIE Winner for Best Science Fiction. “Infinite Space, Infinite God” Is Now Available to purchase at www.twilighttimesbooks.com!
COFFEE HOUSE 4 POETS & WRITERS CORNER!
(Bringing You Published
Written Talent Every Month – New and Established)!
White Knight
By Teresa Del Mastro
Jennifer turned the key in the ignition.
Nothing happened. She let out an exasperated groan.
“What’s wrong, Mom?” asked Kyle, from the back
seat.
“The battery must be dead,” she said,
jangling the keys and trying again. It wouldn’t turn over for anything. A knot
formed in Jennifer’s stomach. It was happening more frequently since her
husband left. She hit the horn and jumped when it blared.
She was also finding herself
over-protective of Kyle. Today she’d stayed with him five full hours at Kiddie
Kasino for his friend’s birthday party. With the noise of the machines still ringing
in her ears, she had headed for the car, her son lagging behind. Her clothes
smelled of rain and when she caught sight of herself in a car window, she
winced at her frizzed up hair. All she wanted was to go home and have a quiet
cup of tea.
“Chill out, Mom,” said Kyle. “We’ll figure
it out.”
She took heart, encouraged by her son’s
optimism, made a mental note to register for a basic car-care course for women,
and got out of the vehicle to look around the sprawling, suburban parking lot
for other parents from the party. A small piece of rust fell off the rocker
panel when she slammed the door shut.
“Come on, Kyle. Let’s see if we can find
someone to give us a boost.”
He followed her, his hand-held video game
bleeping. Neither mothers nor fathers nor children they knew were about. It was
then she spotted it. Could it be? A brand-new, glistening, white vehicle-assist
truck came around the corner of the building. Was it wishful thinking? A
mirage? Or the result of a mom breakdown? She rushed towards it.
Matt Austin was leaving after a service
call when he saw someone waving in the distance. He couldn’t quite make out the
features. The figure was standing against the brilliant sunlight. It had been
raining but the sky had opened, revealing a luminous rainbow straddling the
parking lot. As he rode nearer in his white truck, he saw it was a woman. The
closer he got, the more he was able to discern colour and detail. Her long,
auburn hair moved gently in the breeze as she motioned for him to come over.
She was wearing running shoes, jeans and an oversized t-shirt. Her face had a
concerned look, which softened into relief as he pulled to a stop. She was
attractive in an unpolished way. Matt felt a sharp pang as he was reminded of
his wife, who had succumbed to breast cancer.
“Do you have trouble, ma’am?” he asked.
“Yes,” said Jennifer, her mouth dry. “I
left my lights on and the battery’s dead.”
She took in Matt’s hazel eyes and ivory
skin. His pale, blond hair peeked out from under his baseball cap, which
sported his company’s logo: a knight on a white charger.
“Let’s have a look,” he said. “Where are
you parked?”
Jennifer led him over to the sedan, Kyle
trailing behind. Intent on his game, he didn’t miss a play as he got back into
the car.
“Just pop the hood for me, please,” said
Matt. “If it hasn’t been sitting more than an hour or two, I can boost it. But
if it’s been longer, it may be damaged and you’ll need a new battery.”
“Oh no,” she gulped and started to cry.
“It’s been five hours.”
“It’ll be all right,” he said. “Just a
minute.”
He went to his truck and came back with a
box of tissues. He quietly watched her dab at her eyes.
“I’m sorry,” said Jennifer. “It’s just
that we’re on our own, without any family nearby to either lend a hand or share
a joy.”
“I know what you mean,” he said. “My wife
died last year and I’ve got my daughter Bella to look after. It all seems new
to me; especially those little girl things.”
“I’m so sorry,” said Jennifer, forgetting
her own problems.
“Thank you,” he said and seemed truly
grateful as he looked into her dark brown eyes.
“Shall we check the battery?” he asked.
“Sure. I’ll get the hood.” She reached for
the lever.
Matt worked quickly putting on clamps and
checking meters. Satisfied with his diagnosis, he looked up at Jennifer, who
was anxiously following his motions.
“Well, there’s good news and bad news.”
“Bad news first.”
“Okay. Your battery’s toast.”
“Now good…”
“I have a batter with me. You won’t have to
be towed anywhere. I’ll have you back in business in a few minutes.”
“I can’t thank you enough,” she said, with
a genuine smile.
When the battery was installed, Matt said
“That wasn’t so bad, was it?”
“No, I feel much better now.”
She offered him a credit card for payment.
He read her name aloud, “Jennifer Lorens.”
“I’m Matt Austin,” he said, removing a
mechanic’s work glove and holding out his hand.
“The pleasure is all mine,” said Jennifer.
Her bow lips curled up at the edges as she grasped his hand warmly. Matt felt
her small, chapped hand in his. He held it for a moment longer than was usual
and imagined her washing dishes, her auburn hair falling over the sink. He
glanced into the car at Kyle and noticed a balloon and a loot bag with matching
logos on the seat beside him.
“I see you’ve been to Kiddie Kasino,” he
said to Jennifer. “I’m having a party there next Saturday for Bella and her
classmates. It looks like your son’s about the same age. Nine, I’d say?”
“You guessed right.”
“How would you like to join us? It’s
Bella’s first birthday without her mom and I don’t really know what I’m doing.”
Jennifer thought she might not mind it
this time. She spoke to Kyle through the open window, “How would you like to
come back here next week?”
“Sweet!” he said, not even looking up.
“I guess it’s a go then,” she said to
Matt.
“It’s at 3 o’clock. We’ll have pizza and
cake first, then hand out game tokens and you can stay as long as you like.”
“We’ll be there,” said Jennifer.
“Okay, now, the battery’s humming and
you’re good to go. I’ll see you on Saturday. You can call me at the number on
this receipt any time you need help.”
“I’ll try to be a little more careful
about leaving my headlights on,” she said, “but it’s good to know there’s
someone I can call.”
Matt and Jennifer said goodbye with new
hope in their hearts as he rode off in his white charger.
Copyright © 2007 Teresa
Del Mastro.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR:
Teresa Del Mastro was born and raised in
__
Disorder
By Shelly Wiseberg
Anxiety of worries
Stresses in life
Emotional fears
Rigid in perception
Patterns unbroken
Frozen in movement
From opportunities passed.
Avoiding of participation
Sitting on the sidelines
Watching it in slow motion
The fear of dying
Hearts racing fast
In much anticipation
Reclusive and isolated
From the world gone by
Trapped in a prison
That is no lie
Immobilized I cry.
Copyright © 2007 Shelly
Wiseberg.
__
Outsider
By Shelly Wiseberg
I suffered in silence
I suffered alone
Crying from the inside
Longing for home
No one to talk to
No one to reach
Only criticism
Ready to preach
Looking for flaws
No accolades
A one woman’s
Cheering section
Alone in a parade
Not enough laughter
Sharing and warmth
Too much fighting
Not enough care
Feeling invisible
No one to share
The pain deeply internal
Indifference too much to bare
No one to protect you
To be by your side
A one woman’s
Cheering section
Alone on that ride.
Copyright © 2007 Shelly
Wiseberg.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR:
Shelly Wiseberg has been writing her poetry from her own personal journal
for about five (5) years now as a helping and healing tool for herself, and
recently decided to share her thoughts and feelings with others. She is
published with Lulu Press; where two (2) of her books of poetry – one titled “Prose and Cons”, the other one titled “Poetry of Life” -- can be purchased at
Lulu Press. Shelly was also recently published in “Storytime Tapestry” newsletter and in
the May issue of “Shine”, a literary
journal. She is also published in “Agoraphobia
Resource Center’s” newsletter, which included three (3) of her poems in
which she shares what it’s like living with a disorder…please go to: http://www.agoraphobia.ws, to read her poetry and
story. Shelly’s hobbies are collecting seashells, crystal rock, stones and
quartz. And she has a big interest in anything spiritual, paranormal,
numerology, astrology, reading, cooking, writing and road travel. She is
concerned about the state of the world in every aspect; poverty, racism, war,
earth changes, homelessness, everything and anything to due with the world
today. Shelly would love to travel to all places that are spiritually and
emotionally uplifting to the soul. She can be reached via email at karmicpath22@yahoo.ca
__
Intermission
By Joan Skura
Heather edged her way through
the crowded bar of the Grand Boulevard Theater, into the relative quiet of the second-floor
lobby. Spotting an unoccupied couch, she sat down to enjoy her chardonnay and
glance through the program. The first act had certainly lived up to the
reviews. “A dream of a revival,” the Standard
gushed. “Maria and Tony—a story ever old, ever new,” noted the Times-Herald. For Heather, West Side Story was simply her favorite
musical.
A pity her sister couldn’t
make it tonight but, as assistant chef at Antoine’s,
it was Josie’s duty to step into the breach when her boss was feeling under
the weather; even if it was her night off.
“Sorry, sis,” Josie’s voicemail said. “I
know it’s last-minute, but Antoine just called. He’s down with the ‘flu, so I
don’t have any choice. I know you were really looking forward to tonight. So
was I. Anyway, you’ve got the tickets, so maybe you could ask someone else
along. Gotta go now. I’ll call you tomorrow.”
As it happened, no one was
free but Heather didn’t intend to miss this performance.
“Mind if I share?” said a pleasant
voice. Heather looked up to see a very attractive man, mid-thirtyish, with
dark, slightly wavy hair and blue eyes, smiling at her.
“Oh…no…I mean, please feel
free,” she said, suddenly self-conscious at being alone.
“Thank you.”
He sat down on the two-seater
and placed his glass on the table beside him. A little unnerved, Heather took
another sip of wine, pushed the loose, auburn curls back from her forehead and
began to read the cast biographies.
“Excellent production, don’t
you think?” said the man. “I was going to pass it up, since my client begged
off at the last minute, but I’m glad I came. This show brings back a lot of
memories for me. We did it in high school; my one and only attempt at showbiz.”
He had an easy laugh and the blue eyes positively twinkled.
“Really? Which role?” Heather
was intrigued. “No, let me guess—Tony? Bernardo?”
“Actually, they couldn’t
decide whether I looked more like a Shark or a Jet, so they made me Officer
Krupke.”
“Oh, that’s not so bad. At
least you had some lines. We did it in our senior year and I’d always wanted to
play Anita. I’d have dyed my hair, worn a wig, whatever. Then, wouldn’t you
know, I was away sick the week of the casting so I wound up painting sets and
moving props.”
They both laughed and Heather
felt completely at ease now. She couldn’t help noticing that when he smiled,
dimples appeared.
“I’m Simon Jensen,” he said,
and they shook hands. “It seems my client had some minor family emergency to deal
with. I called around, but no one else could make it on such short notice.”
“Heather…Heather McLellan. My
sister and I planned this outing weeks ago, but her boss came down with ‘flu
and she had to fill in for him. She’s assistant chef at a very upscale
restaurant, so just saying ‘no’ isn’t an option. Imagine all those well-heeled
patrons having to do without their lobster bisque.”
“Yes, I guess if you’re in
that line you have to be ready to step up to the plate. Pun intended, of
course!”
They laughed again and it
seemed to Heather that Simon was as comfortable as she, as they enjoyed the
wine and the easy conversation. She learned that he was a senior editor in a
busy publishing house and he seemed genuinely interested as she described the
daily joys and challenges of a special needs teacher at an inner-city school.
It was also revealed that neither had been married; although he’d once been
engaged, briefly.
“So, where’s this restaurant?”
“Oh, it’s Antoine’s, over on
“Yes, I’ve been there several
times. Great food, nice ambience. You know, once, when I had the poached
salmon, Antoine appeared at my table, very concerned that he’d overcooked it by
fifteen seconds. I had a really hard time convincing him that it was absolutely
perfect.”
“Oh, that’s Antoine, all
right,” Heather laughed. “Perfection first, last, always, according to Josie.
And of course he expects, no, demands, the same of his staff. I think the
junior chefs are a little afraid of him.”
“And your sister?”
“Not any more. She’s been with
him for five years now and he really values her. Encourages her to experiment,
develop her own creations and so on.”
The crowd in the bar had spilled
out into the lobby, laughing, chattering. Simon leaned a little closer as he
said, “Look, please don’t misunderstand but, since it seems we both have empty
seats next to us, why don’t we pair up? Would you like to join me for the
second act? I’m sitting front row, center.”
Heather hesitated, her
customary reserve beginning to kick in.
“Oh…I don’t…well, sure, why
not?” She reasoned that it was only for the remainder of the show after all
and, at the end of the evening, they’d say ‘goodnight’ and ‘goodbye’, probably.
“Great,” Simon beamed, “this
is turning out to be a very pleasant evening, after all.”
The quiet tone of the bell and
the dimming lights sent the crowd shuffling towards the auditorium. Simon rose
and gently took Heather’s arm as she stood up. She smoothed down the
pencil-slim skirt, aware that he was looking at her appreciatively and was glad
she’d decided on the flattering black two-piece with the white satin shell
underneath. Her ‘killer duds’, as Josie would say. Black high-heeled pumps,
sheer, dark hose and a clutch purse completed the look.
As they took their seats and
the house lights began to dim, Simon leaned over and whispered, “How would you
feel about going for a light supper, or coffee and dessert, after the show? You
know, there’s a really great place over on
Smiling, Heather ran a hand
over her curls. “Yes, I’ve heard they do something absolutely decadent called
‘Midnight Madness’. But the curtain’s going up now. Ask me again, after the
show.”
Copyright ©
2007 Joan Skura.
ABOUT
THE AUTHOR:
Joan Skura began writing by spinning bedtime stories for her
four grandchildren. In addition to her children’s works, she has penned a
number of short stories for adults, two (2) of which have recently been
published in “LitBits.” Originally
from
__
I Remember Laddie
By Carol Roach
There are no two ways about it: we were a
dog family from the get-go. Ever since I could remember, we had dogs. Growing
up as an only child in a house of adults, I never did know what it was to have
human friends until after I started school. My friends were my dogs, and we
always had one or two of them in the house at all times.
Laddie was my first dog. He was a
beautiful collie. It was so apropos to have a collie at that time, because
growing up in the 1950s we watched Lassie and Timmy on television all the time.
What child didn’t love Lassie? But I had my own Laddie and I loved him to
death. Even Lassie could not take his place for me. My Laddie was just as smart
as Lassie. There was no doubt in my mind about that. Laddie would guard me just
as if I was his own pup.
Though he did not claim exclusive rights,
he picked which people would be allowed to come near his little companion. I
first remember Laddie when I was three years old. By the time I was five years
old, my grandmother would let me play in the yard unaccompanied by an adult. Of
course she would always check on me, but she knew I was safe because Laddie was
with me. If I attempted to venture out of the yard, Laddie would pull me back
by any article of clothing he could grab with his mouth.
My grandmother said it was so funny to see
him pulling me into the yard while I was trying to get away, with little
success. In the winter he would pull me back in the yard by my mittens and in
the summer—well, it was a belt or pants leg or shirttail; whatever he could find.
He was always gentle, and I never felt his teeth on my skin. If I started to
cry he would lavish me with kisses and if that didn’t work, he would sit down
with me and put his head in my lap and whimper until I stopped.
My cousin who was younger than I at the
time refused to eat her meals at the dinner table, she had to be down on the
kitchen floor eating alongside Laddie.
Laddie was basically a good-hearted
friendly dog; however, he would growl at the oilman who would come to fill the
oil barrel on the back porch every Friday night. The oilman hated the dog, and
one time hit him with his hose. After that, Laddie would not let him on the
gallery and we had to bring in the dog every time the oilman was coming.
The oilman was a very surly fellow and my
grandmother had called the company to complain about him. Not long afterward,
we heard through the grapevine that this man was fired. It was not long after
that Laddie disappeared. There was no doubt in our family’s mind that the
oilman had something to do with it. I cried so much as I missed my Laddie
terribly. We were too poor to buy another thoroughbred collie. But we did have
a series of mutts all throughout my growing up years. Although Laddie has been
gone for over 37 years, he will always hold a special place in my heart and I
will always remember Laddie.
Copyright © 2007 Carol
Roach.
__
A Fatherless Child
By Carol Roach
I
had a father until I was 9 years old. That was until he blurted out that I was
not his daughter anyhow. My whole world changed that day. It was
then that I made the stark realization that all the family I had ever known was
not really my family at all. Who was my family – I really didn’t know.
My
grandmother, who raised me, my father's mother, was not my grandmother, his
sister and brothers were not my uncles and aunt. My cousins were not my
cousins. It was then that I learned the ugly truth about rejection. I was
9 years old and I felt terribly alone.
I
soon realized after much agonizing, that my grandmother will always be my
grandmother. In essence she is my mother and the only person in this world who
loved me. She was there as I was growing up, unlike the man who was my father
and then decided not to be. He left his legacy, he had impacted my life.
He left me with a scar that would not heal.
It
was 25 years ago when he came to my grandmother's funeral, and it also was the
last time I ever saw him. My son asked who he was. Can you imagine that
my little boy did not even know his own grandfather! I simply replied
“he’s nobody.”
Some
might judge me for that answer and so be it, but it was my way of dealing with
the hurt of rejection. It was my way to dismiss it and make it seem
unimportant, when the exact opposite was true. It still hurt to know that
the man I had known and loved for 9 years of my life disowned me like a pair of
old shoes. What I responded to my son is what I believed my father felt
in his own “heart towards me and mine.” We were nothing to him; people who did
not deserve any respect or humanity.
After
the funeral service, the three of us sat in the limousine, remaining speechless
for the entire trip back home. There were tears in Kenneth's eyes that day. I
supposed it was because he was grieving over his mother. It had relatively
nothing to do with what I had said. After all he didn’t care about us. He made
that very clear many years before when he said those vicious words in a drunken
stupor and broke his little girl’s heart.
It
turned out to be the last day any family member saw him. After the
funeral, he disowned his brothers and sister. There was no reason for him
to look back. The family was never good enough for him. He had moved on.
He
refused his brother's dying request to see him. He did not care enough to see his
brother one last time before he passed away. Fast forward to the present, I do
not know if Kenneth is dead or alive. But I do know that I missed having
a father all of my life.
Some
people wonder after my divorce, why I did not return to my maiden name. Part of
the reason was that my son needed to feel he was still a part of me and so we
shared the same name. The other reason was that I had no name to go back
to. I did not have a father, so why should I carry on the hypocrisy of
honouring his name.
My
identity as a human being commenced when I became Carol Roach. I am not
Mrs. Roach anymore, but I will always be Carol Roach. I may marry my
beloved Matt, but I will always be Carol Roach; for Carol Roach is the essence
of me.
The Essence of Me
By Carol Roach
Long
before my earthly incarnation
I
was spirit, love and adoration
On
central stage among the stars
I
circled the planets Venus and Mars
Gestation
period cold and dark
Brought
forth the rhythm of my heart
Mother
womb, portal on earth
I
waited for my precious birth
To
this world I would be born
A
winter rose amid the thorn
Unprepared
to brave the quest
I
could not let my spirit rest
For
there were those who could not see
My
heart and soul; the essence of me
They
wished that I would disappear
Among
the clouds in total fear
The
angels heard my spirit cry
My
talent they could not deny
One
sheltered me beneath her wing
Until
she heard my true heart sing
Spirit
awakened; robust and alive
Creative
juices flowing; I began to strive
The
world took notice of my plight
My
strength endured; I set things right
For
now they understood too well
How
they created my living hell
My
crafted words today I share
Among
the world with tender care
I am
who I was meant to be
Aligned
with my perfect destiny
For
now my future will be bright
I
know that I was born to write
Copyright ©
Carol Roach.
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Tea: A Simple Foundation of Life
By Carol Roach
The texture of my foundation
is transmutable. A strange way to start a piece, I know, but it was the word
that came to me as I began to make my first cup of tea of the morning. In
Today, I purposely linger over
the teabag before I introduce it to the hot steaming water. It is a wonder how
a little square paper package containing this heavenly brew can mean so much to
me. I examine the packaging, a rough porous paper, though I am not sure what it
is, resembles cheesecloth and also rice paper, but I will leave that aspect up
to the chemists of the world to decipher. For now I am content just to look at
this paper and to drink in the wonderful aroma of the tea that is within. For
the first time I notice a little design crafted onto the paper. The paper at
first glance appears strong almost sterile, yet it is not, it is multifaceted,
a metaphor for life. Strength and gentleness, sterility and beauty are
contained within the same packaging.
I remember as a young child, I
was very nervous around people I did not know. My fear and anxiety extended
beyond the home to my elementary school years. I was so nervous I used to vomit
every morning before going to school. My stomach was always queasy. I could not
eat breakfast. I would bring it back up. My grandmother tried everything and
the only thing that I kept down was tea. So from the tender age of
six-years-old, I became an avid tea drinker.
Just like British children, a
continent away, this Canadian girl depended upon the rich, strong, robust
flavour of tea as her daily beverage of choice. For me, tea meant comfort,
security, love, and a way to help me battles the fears of the day.
I return to the present and
drop my teabag into the hot steamy water. Today more than ever, I yearn for its
homey flavour and for the magical properties that transform my life. I remember
the famous words of Eleanor Roosevelt, the great American first lady who said:
A woman is like a tea bag. You never know how strong she is until she gets into
hot water. I revel at how true these words really are for me. I was a child who
was very afraid of the world, my daily cup of tea, made me strong; it helped me
to deal with the overwhelming pressures of the school day.
Today I am battling some very
heavy issues, which at quick glance seem as insurmountable as those of my
childhood. But like the teabag, I do get stronger in hot water. I do transform
from a frightened child to a self confidence woman who can take on the issues
of life as they come to me. Like Eleanor Roosevelt, and my beloved grandmother,
I know that my foundation is solid, my experiences have taught me well and I am
brave enough, strong enough, and courageous enough to handle all that life
offers me.
Copyright © 2006 Carol
Roach.
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Room 10
By Carol Roach
It was my very first day at school. I was
terrified. My grandmother had told me to be a brave little girl and march into the
school with courage. She also told me that if I got lost, just ask somebody to
show me to Room 10. Once I got there everything would be all right.
I had gone to school with Renate, my
childhood friend, but we knew we were to be separated because she was going to
Room 8, while I was going to Room 10. There were three first grade classes in
that school in 1961, and I was lucky that at least Renate’s class was just
beside mine. That way I couldn’t get lost.
To this very day I suffer from a case of
poor spatial awareness. Unless I know exactly where I am going, or have
practiced the route beforehand, I am afraid that I will get lost.
It was worse in 1961, because I really
would get lost. I was never allowed off the back balcony to play with the neighbourhood
children in the backyard. The only time I went into the yard was with Laddie,
who guarded me like I was the Hope Diamond. I never had a chance to explore my
environment and develop the skills needed to navigate myself through it.
I can’t tell you how terrified I was when
Renate and I went very confidently up the stairs to our classrooms. Well, she
was confident; I was just confident I was with her. All of a sudden, in no time
at all, we were separated. I don’t even know how it happened. I was lost! I
looked around for Renate but couldn’t find her. Then I finally saw her enter a
classroom, and so I was smart enough to realize that I couldn’t go with her.
After all, she was in Room 8 and I was in Room 10.
I panicked though; nobody prepared me for
this one. I knew Renate was in Room 8 but I didn’t know she was going to leave
me to my own devices. My six-year-old mind was just not able to comprehend such
a concept. I started to cry. There were all these kids around me and I was
standing out in a group of strangers. I didn’t see any adults at that point. So
I just chanted over and over again through my tears, “Is this Room 10? Is this
Room 10?”
Out of nowhere came a large pair of hands
that just grabbed me and pushed me into a line of children. Through my tears I
again asked this harrowing figure, “Is this Room 10?” The figure ignored me and
commanded all the children to enter the classroom and take a seat.
I was still crying but there was no consoling
for me. The figure ignored me completely. She commenced her class while I still
didn’t know if I was in Room 10.
“I am Miss Appelaize,” she said to all the
children, “and I am your teacher. I am going to call out your names now and I
want you to say ‘here’ when you hear your name.” And so she commenced, “Avery,
Joseph; Belman, Steven; Buckingham, Carol.” I managed to give out a very weak
“here.” I no longer asked if it was Room 10.
Elementary school was a traumatic
experience for me and by the time I was a mother and ready to send my son to
school, I wanted to spare him the pain and uncertainty that I had gone through
on my first day. I took my son to school, even though I had to take time off
work to do it. He was not going to go with a friend who later on would desert
him. He knew that I was going to make sure that he was safely in his classroom
before I left him to the charge of his teacher and he knew that I would be
waiting for him that first day when his class was over.
Though my son attended the same elementary
school as I did, and it was 1980, I made sure he was never going to have to ask
somebody if this was Room 10.
Copyright © 2007 Carol
Roach.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR:
Carol Roach, M.Ed, B.A., a native of
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For Time and Eternity
By Sandra Lee Hoynacki
Whispering softly in our eve of night
As I caress your hair of gray
In shades of splattered pale moonlight
I’ll whish your hurts away
Were sound to flee or escape my being
I’ll play your voice inside of me
Within my heart an echo speaking
From inside out your words to see
When time has taken its final toll
Or time forbid that your hands I hold
With love I’ll pen a wedding scroll
With feeble fingers, the page I fold
Faded and tarnished this wedding band
Worn proudly for all our years
Cherished and honored upon my hand
Keeping you close and forever dear
Pure is certainly a written word
That few can really claim
The one above already heard
And he will erase our blame
The heart has spoken for better or worse
As it beats for truth and love
There is no manuscript to rehearse
God knows all from above.
Copyright © April 14th,
2007 Sandra Hoynacki.
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Battered Basin
By Sandra Lee Hoynacki
A radio voice fills the clutter within
My fairy tale palace has its own bird nest
Paper roses displayed nicely in wineskin
While quietly I reflect on the coming guest
Remnants of decorations hang in a corner
Dancing merrily with the zephyr of the fan
The crystal chandelier hidden in a
miniature
Box, sits on my cardboard night stand
I tied a string around my secret thought
So I wouldn’t forget this special day
Including the folded sunset that brought
Such instant warmth in a delicious way
The basin sits battered yet always useful
It’s as shiny as last night’s silver moon
Each day I dust it being ever so careful
For the hands that would touch it soon
On the fair green hills of yesterday
Our Villa stood touching the sun
Drinking leisurely from the chardonnay
Watching stallions gallop and run
Beyond the veil of our long ago years
Falling into this bowl of tenderness
I saw his trail of tears
Forever rippling these waters of stillness
Reality overtakes the sleeping cobwebs
As I stand before the treasured basin
Spinning away like the tide that ebbs
I’m the visitor to where I’ve been.
Copyright © April 19th,
2007 Sandra Hoynacki.
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Pocket Place
By Sandra Lee Hoynacki
On Whisper bay, just down the way,
A sleepy island town
The meadows green, blue birds seen,
Pecking seeded ground
Cascading bricks, broken sticks,
Where squirrels scamper around
Autumn leaves on golden trees,
A muted whispering sound
I kept your face in my pocket place,
You left, and I lost your name
Pouring cream in our breakfast dream,
Those eyes that played a game
The mind inside took it in stride,
Things were not the same
Hasty words said, salty tears instead,
Trickled to douse the flame
Good words I harvest and easily digest,
Like words from Hemmingway
Life sorted out without a doubt,
This too will go away
Summer will call, light mist will fall,
A flight to
In my pocket place your empty face,
No longer on mantle display
How beautiful the dance our song of
romance
The twining of two vines
A thousand things in moonlight gleams
Electricity cavorted our mind
A cobbled street, new day I greet
A stillness place I find
I trace your face without a place
This empty space in time.
Copyright © April 26th,
2007 Sandra Hoynacki.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR:
A resident of
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The Princess
By Pamela Perry Blaine
I was visiting my daughter one
day and as I sat at the dining room table, my granddaughter, Rowan, came
sweeping into the room in a manner that commanded everyone’s attention.
“My name is
Like all children, my
granddaughter loves to pretend. She had just finished watching Alice in Wonderland and now she had found
some dress up clothes and was pretending to be
“Well, hello
Rowan looked at me and frowned
suspiciously. She didn’t seem to be quite certain if I understood about
‘pretend’, so just to be sure she ducked her head down, as if dropping her role
of wonderland superstar for just a moment. Quietly she whispered to me,
“Grammy, I Rowan.” As soon as she had made that quite clear, she quickly turned
and floated down the hallway in her silky dress repeating over and over, “My
name is Alice…my name is Alice.”