I’m looking for a photo of the American House Hotel, Tavern, Restaurant, & Bar in New Egypt, New Jersey that I can have full rights to use for a book cover. Please contact me at; arlenebice1633@ gmail.com
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A SNOWY DAY
A great day for writing……Hot pink geranium backed by the winter white of snow & view from the morning kitchen window; the English Patient soundtrack flows throughout the house along with the home smells of soup simmering. Great day to write deep thoughts and stuff.
STARS ON THE DIAMOND by Mae Kramer Silver Book Review
What better subject can we talk about on a snowy day nearing the end of February, than baseball? What do you know about women’s softball? And the early games? In New Jersey?
Back in 1934 “Toots” Nusse was busy, aside from working in a factory; she was busy organizing the Linden Arians of the Amateur Softball Association in New Jersey. The team was played by women, sometimes managed and coached by two men, Julius Rosenberg and Lloyd Kingsley. Her lifetime pitching record of 396-164, 109 shut-outs, 30 no-hitters, and more than 1700 strike-outs. There were times when other teams did not want to play against the Arians because they were sure to lose.
The author’s aunt, Anne Sabak tried out for the team, and was accepted while still in high school. She left soon afterwards to work in a shirt factory, but continued to play softball. This was the World War II years when women had to go the extra mile to help out while the men were overseas.
The book is full of personal photographs, newspaper reports, maps, facts, and figures. It is a “must read” for anyone interested in women’s history, baseball, or New Jersey history. Quite a few surprises will delight you.
Ms Silver is the author of Rancho San Miguel and In the Footsteps of Thomas Paine.
The book is available on Amazon in Kindle and paperback editions.
WOMEN’S OPEN FORUM THANKS SANDRA MARTIN of BRACEY, VA!
Great presentation last Saturday! Thank you so much for your words, your wit, especially your wit, and sharing your personal stories. Everyone loved it as I knew they would. I was totally surprised at the large number of women who came in such bad weather conditions! And the Clarksville crowd, too!
CASSANDRA AND THE GI P.I. A Dupont Circle Mystery Volume I by Meriewether Shipley
The words jump out at you, pull you in, and make you part of the story. A refreshingly new narrative that reads like it is happening now even though it is set in the late 60s. Cassandra, frustrated with her college art classes of interior design, hops down to Dupont Circle in Washington D.C. and sits onto a bar stool next to a quiet guy. She strikes up the conversation. This begins the adventure of meeting someone you’ve shared other lifetimes with, in past centuries.
The GI P.I. is Harry Shields of Eastern Shore, Maryland, a Korean War vet who still suffers, at unexpected times, from shell shock 15 years after he has been discharged. Obviously the man has class and style, even though he wears khakis each time she sees him, at least in the beginning. They connect quickly and deeply moving along at a fast pace as they run into serious problems arising from his years as a soldier. Cassandra refuses to leave his side, watching over him like a mama bear, bringing fresh ideas to help that come from her youthfulness.
A highly recommended read that will keep you turning pages, until you uncover what comes next.
WRITING PROMPT: HE ENTERED THE ROOM LIKE HE
This picture of my old car after two deer ran into me is meant to grab your attention. Opening lines to a story must do the same thing. If the writer doesn’t have you locked in by the end of the first paragraph, you will be moving on to someone else’s story.
Even I wonder what story follows this beginning. Alas, it is just a beginning meant to grab your attention. I may continue one day, who knows what comes from just a beginning.
WRITING PROMPT: HE ENTERED THE ROOM LIKE HE. . . .
In the middle of the cocktail party, where glasses were clinking and low murmurs of laughter rumbled through the room, he entered like he was on fire. A door banged shut somewhere behind him. Long strides carried him across the tiled floor, through the open French doors, and into the garden. There he found the apparent object of his fury. With hands clenched into fists hanging from his sides, he stopped, nose-to-nose with Alicia.
His jaw muscles were taut, working. Words barely more than a whisper spat out. “What have you got to say to me?” The veins in his neck stood at attention. The redness of his face showed the pent-up anger ready to burst.
“Darling, why are you so upset?” she answered his question softly with one of her own, cooing each word. The coolness buffered his heat. Her smooth face was the opposite of his contorted one.
“Shall we move into the library to continue?” It was as if she were asking the time of day. “We can speak privately in quiet. There’s no sense in creating gossip for the morning papers.”
She glided back through the room crowded with people, glasses in hand, now silent, ears straining to hear. He followed her lead, rigid with anger. All eyes followed them.
DREAMS ON DEATH AND DYING
MZ LIZZIE DREAMING
Last night I dreamed that a loved one was going to die in a few days. There was much more to the dream and many people were in the dream. My dreams are cinematic- you could usually make full length movies from the details, sounds, and vivid colors in my dreams.
When I woke up, I wanted to know the meaning of the dream. I keep a dream journal so I try to analyze most of my dreams. I’ve learned over the years what my recurring dreams foretell for me. Dreams carry messages for us. It’s important to me to be aware of the message someone out of sight is trying to tell me, be it a warning or a heads up to something nice coming along.
This particular loved one has passed over many years ago, so it was not a premonition dream as I sometimes have. I have dreamed of him many times. I have also had visits from him that I know were not dreams.
I first went to Layne Dalfen’s page on dying and death dreams. She has some interesting thoughts on dreams. I quote, “When a loved one who has passed on, appears in your dream, it is proof that the relationship does not end. You are giving yourself the opportunity to continue the relationship in a new way.” Her website is: http://haveagreatdream.com.
I also checked into Dream Moods and I quote: “that I am lacking a certain aspect that the loved one embodies.” Their web address: http://dreammoods.com
And for a third opinion I checked into the Psychic Library at: http://psychiclibrary.com//
There I found this advice:
“may be a way of keeping a connection to them or reliving the impact they had on my life.”
Dreams are as fascinating as any research can be. Yet as a writer, one thing is for certain. If you are going to write a dream into your work, be sure to announce that it is a dream, ahead of telling the story of it. It is totally unacceptable to pass it off as real then surprise your reader with a guess what? That just makes a reader feel like they have been played for a fool.
WOMEN’S OPEN FORUM THANK YOU
Ellen, your presentation last Saturday at the Women’s Open Forum was touching, tender, informative, and amazing! Thank you so much for your story and your courage. I felt the closeness of a friend with you before you spoke. Now I feel even closer to you, knowing some of your journey from the only one who could tell it. Thank you so much. Continued success with your business, Custom Creations by Ellen and your life. PS; your creations are fabulous!
WHERE DO YOUR POEMS HIDE?
While nosing around the ‘net, I find a subject that I can fly from and create a writing prompt for my writing friends. Where do you find your poems? Do you make a list, write from one, leave the others for another day? Can you just go on and on, allowing the list to continue expanding like I do? And isn’t poetry just fascinating now that all those rigid rules have been removed? It is for me, anyway. Please enjoy.
WHERE POEMS HIDE
A brilliantly colored leaf falls from a tree
gently floating down
letting me know, autumn is in slow motion
deer that come out of the forest to forage
as I watch quietly
holding my breath; not to scare them away
words of my father flow through my hand
as they touch paper
words that I never chanced to hear him say
re-reading cards sent to me over the years
softening my heart
touch me again as I picture who sent them
peace of home fills me with warmth
thoughts overflowing
head to heart to hand, filling me with love
a pot of tea complimenting the scent
of freshly baked cookies
filling the kitchen with memories of long ago
the table covered with books of blank pages
lay sprawled out
their voices calling me, waiting to be filled
the fireplace crackling, warming my heart
memories of moments
so precious that I re-live them over again
poems hang in the air waiting to be plucked
brought to life
written down to share with the world © 2014
Writing Group Coffee
Our Monday writing group has published its second annual chapbook, titled Heartspeak. From writing prompts, seeds are planted that become words, words strung together become thoughts, placed on paper, these thoughts become poems, essays, and stories.
Some poetry is for remembering and some for remembering with pure joy to bring a grin to your winter face. Please enjoy one of my contributions. The thought of it warms me on a wintry day.
COFFEE
No longer coffee for me
Brought up on toast & tea
I do have memories so sweet
of driving nights to Canal Street
NYC that is.
A tiny cup of espresso
dark, foamy, compresso
sided with an Italian delight
flaky, whipped cream on sight
the best ever.
By my side, my Italian stud
silver-haired, full Italian blood
oh, yes I have memories of coffee
some with anisette or flavored toffee
all wonderful.
Arlene Sandra Bice ©2014