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Friday, December 30, 2016

Grateful

How do we start thanking God for all his blessings? I'll admit I am rather insecure, but do you ever feel your prayers aren't long enough or good enough? Will it ever be enough?

I imagine the tradition of leaving cookies and milk for Santa began because children wanted to show appreciation for the forthcoming gifts. Since ancient times, farmers planted bulbs in autumn so the beauty of God's spring would manifest itself in gardens with bold colored tulips and daffodils. Symphonies by famous composers give homage to God and His wonderful works. Every grandma baking a cake for others is serving slices of love and parents who spend time teaching children how to ride a bike or swing a bat are naturally sharing gratitude with their family.

Here in California, we have just suffered through a giant drought and right now, we're thankfully up to the fourth inch of rain this month. Speaking of suffering, this has been quite a year, hasn't it? But it's almost over and many of us, just like an overgrown and gnarly rosebush, survived in spite of all the year’s difficulties.Besides praying of course, I choose to write poems of thankfulness. How about you? 
  

Mercy Rain
Eve Gaal
(Previously published at Christian Poets and Writers on Facebook)



To the prayer caught in my throat.
The Heimlich maneuvered gasps of spiritual praise.
Me, the spec of dust imbued with His touch,
part of His plan.
Me, drooling
on bended knees,
head down
pathetically waiting and shaking.
Typical textbook.
He won’t yawn,
He is the Master of My fate.
The spring,
the summer
even winter and orange leaves in fall.
He is the thrill of the beginning and the best ending.
The excitement
both outside and within my soul.
Who am I that He brings me doves and flowers?
Who am I that He soothes my tired nerves
placing roses and endless beauty along my path?
I inhale,
gurgling—embarrassed by spittle as I try to get my words out.
What can my lowly heart do to show my love?
Breathe, I tell myself.
Do not fear.
Grateful tears run down my cheeks
I bow,
feeling His hand pulling me up
moving me towards the window

where the ashen sky  looms with a chance of showers. 



Here's wishing all of you a Happy and Healthy 2017!!

Monday, December 19, 2016

Re-Post of Not So Secret Rum Ball Recipe

 My Secret Rum Ball Recipe

(First published on Dec. 15, 2011 at my previous blog The Desert Rocks)
Easy Holiday Rum Balls
These make a perfect hostess gift and will be
 remembered long after the sugar cookies, date nut bread, even the fudge has been scarfed down and forgotten. I’ve made them for years and often hear people on wobbly legs, leaving with their designated driver saying things like,
“Who made those rum balls? I have to get the recipe.”
Five years have passed and I figured you might want to try these again. After all, it's been a tough year and rum might help numb some of the pain or anxiety but please don't use rum balls as a gateway to the harder stuff like Bourbon Truffles or Brandy eggnog cocktails. Try the rum balls and always use caution when operating machinery.  

1 cup powdered sugar
3 cups crushed vanilla wafers (The best part of this recipe is that
you can use up older cookies or cakes instead of the vanilla wafers)
Typically, I use graham crackers but one year I used
Leftover chocolate cake and oh my goodness they were fantabulous!
1 cup finely chopped walnuts
3 tablespoons unsweetened cocoa
3 tablespoons Karo syrup
½ cup Bacardi rum and three secret drops of German rum flavoring because regular rum evaporates rather quickly. The rum flavoring I mention is more potent and delicious than the stuff in our local  grocery stores. The Dr. Oetker Rum flavor will take your rum balls to a whole new level. It is available in most European delicatessens.

Chocolate sprinkles for decorating
Powdered sugar for decorating
Anyway, add ingredients to your bowl one at a time, stirring between each addition. Size-wise I roll them into one inch round balls.
Then roll half of the rum balls in powdered sugar and the other half of the balls in the
chocolate sprinkles.  Set them on wax paper and try one. I said one. Then, refrigerate them before you place them into cute little gift boxes or onto serving trays.
Super easy and fun too! 
Have you ever made these?
 

Monday, December 12, 2016

Bleeping Our Way to Heaven

Is it Newton's third law? For every action, there is an equal and opposite reaction.



A friend of mine recently posted incredible photos involving his jump from a plane. I imagine he had it on his bucket list and wanted everyone to see this amazing, but not surprising achievement. I say not surprising because this is someone who does the inconceivable on a regular basis. In fact, he may even be on one of those waiting lists to ride a rocket into space or he’s currently hiring Sherpas for his hike up K2. Anyway, this post is about a joke he made under his photos about the word he used all the way to the ground. His jump was on a sunny day with favorable conditions and another jumper held onto him with the parachute. In other words, he had a 99% chance of surviving the jump and thank goodness, everything worked out fine. And yet--I can’t really blame him for this but he shouted the word--the f-word—all the way down.

I told this story to another friend of mine who told me that most of the garbled speak on the black boxes they fish out of the ocean or dig out of the ash-filled rubble have nothing but curse words on the tapes. This of course, made me wonder, how I would react, had I jumped from a plane or had landed upside down in a cornfield. When a truck is coming at us, crossing the center divide and it looks like we’re ready to meet our maker, will we use the worst profanity we know how to utter?  Is this subject too morbid to think about or should we address this dire situation before it’s too late?

I pushed my devout friend and wondered how she would react. We both laughed and agreed, that instead of asking the Lord to forgive our sins or perhaps taking those last precious moments to beg for His divine mercy before committing our weary souls to Heaven, we’d be cursing like sailors. So I asked her if she had any ideas about how to deal with our last minute situation, to which she replied, “We need to practice.”

Practice? This left me in a quandary worse than before, when I naively thought my two Chihuahuas would stop fighting some day and peace would reign over the entire world. How do you suppose I should practice? I’ve listened to the clap of thunder hit close by and felt my body shake uncontrollably with fear, while my brain knew I was safe inside a building. Even the logical aspects couldn’t control my severe subconscious response. At least with thunder, there’s the comforting time lapse of one-Mississippi- two Mississippi- three, etc. to reassure us the storm is heading farther away. This doesn’t mean I don’t use expletives but as I age, my response to the thunder controls some of the shaking. Google says that the chance of being hit by lightening in California is 1 in 7,538,382, odds strangely similar to the California lotto. But let’s not digress because this is serious.


 I’m assuming prayer or meditation is part of the “practice” equation but still, isn’t it asking too much of the human brain to stop a normal fear of death during an emotional goodbye? The Bible tells us to “Fear Not,” over three hundred times but our brain synapses can detect danger, which in turn sends impulsive warnings to our vocal chords. Even if we logically and faithfully say we don’t fear death, can we train ourselves not to curse in our final moments? After all, doesn’t it sound like a good idea to be heading to the Pearly Gates without vulgarities flying left and right? Do you have any suggestions?

Friday, December 2, 2016

A Catch-up Post



1.       Sorry, due to circumstances beyond my control, I haven’t been reading or writing many blog posts lately. Don't worry, because the force that's controlling me away from blogging is building character and giving me more material to write about later. I’m very sorry and hope to be back to reading my favorites soon. In case, this takes me longer than expected, please have a great December and Merry Christmas.

2.       My short novella, The Fifth Commandment is now available in Portuguese and Spanish. Plus, right now it's on sale! Oh--- and the most exciting news is that my humble, faith-based novella reached bestseller status in Australia! By the way, I need some reviews for this one!
           The Fifth Commandment
3.       Penniless Hearts has a gorgeous new cover! Have you seen it? This is the third one. What do you think?


4.       I need to update my website: www.evegaal.com (soon).


Sunday, November 13, 2016

17 Ideas for Dealing With Negative News



If times seem tough, it's because we're exposed to much more information than all our combined predecessors saw in their lifetime. Poet Thomas Gray once wrote, 'ignorance is bliss' and while that doesn't sound responsible in today's world, doesn't it sound tempting to act like an ostrich with his head in the sand?

How about these suggestions? Do you think they might work?
17 ideas for blocking out the negative noise 

Could you cancel your cable?
 
Hide your Smartphone? (Once you've picked the kids up from school)

Stop your wireless?

Toss the newspaper subscription? 

Move off the grid? 

Hike a giant mountain without cell reception? 

Start a photo journal using a real camera?

Fly to a remote part of the world? (Enticing, huh?)

Visit a senior center where Twitter refers to the sound of a pacemaker. 

Leave phone at home while feeding/cleaning up after the homeless?

Volunteer for the Thanksgiving Parade?

Join, or at least visit a monastery? 

Teach someone to sail and avoid busy ports?
 
Host a craft class--allowing only emergency interruptions?

Teach scuba or take lessons. It's so quiet down there. 

Hammer your own noise for Habitat for Humanity. 

Plant vegetables and watch them grow in a community garden?


The point I'm making is that by helping others we help ourselves and in the process we clear our minds. Of course, you could also go for one of my favorites, which is to just barricade yourself in a room full of wonderful books! 




Tuesday, November 1, 2016

Hart to Intangible Heart and My Introduction to a Bestselling Novel



Whether you’re a writer, artist or creator of crafts, the best validation is receiving recognition for your work. I remember walking through aisles and aisles of cakes and pies, all missing a piece at the county fair. Blue ribbons scattered throughout but unfortunately, white Honorable Mention ribbons were pinned on most of them. Drooling before heading back to the wafting funnel-cake smell and buttery barbecued corn waiting outside, I wondered what the judges didn’t like. Were some of the cakes too sweet or too tart? Maybe they went by eye appeal. By now, some of the desserts unappealingly slumped in the summer heat but most of them still looked good. The same thing happened over at the craft building, where lovingly crocheted afghan throws were on display next to pieced quilts, vests and tote bags. Most received Honorable Mentions and only a few were Blue Ribbon winners. I loved the intricate details and bright colors and thought they should all receive first prize. But no one asked me my opinion as I wasn't asked to evaluate anything. 

That’s why I love writing reviews of books that I read. It’s the least I can do to provide feedback and support to someone who worked hard developing a plot, characters and a story-line. It’s my way of saying thank you for entertaining me, keep up the good work. Anyone with an Amazon account can add reviews and they don’t have to be stellar just truthful. I always learn something from all the reviews I’ve received for both my novels-Penniless Hearts or The Fifth Commandment, while appreciating and swallowing the bad with the good. Some people are shy about it or something and I hope to encourage everyone to go to Goodreads or Amazon and perhaps start with something you enjoyed reading in school. It doesn’t have to be long. A couple sentences will do the trick and other readers will benefit from your input. I’ve also realized that I can’t wait for others to reciprocate. Everyone has his or her own timeline for reading. My Kindle is packed with wonderful stories and my bookshelves are overflowing. For some strange reason the cover of Becoming Moon drew me in. Like some of those cakes, maybe I went by eye appeal.



After I wrote a review of his book, the bestselling author contacted me to tell me that I really “got” what he was trying to say. Of course I did. Craig Hart wrote about a writer having struggles and temptations along the course of his life that seemed to pull him down into a watery hole, making him feel like drowning. There were so many intangibles he could have knitted a King-sized duvet! I had mentioned his book on my blog and even posted my review but now the writer of Becoming Moon asked me to expound on my analysis so he could put it into his book as the introduction. I thought he was kidding. After all, this author knows how to write and though I can relate to his story, I can’t come close to his prose. Honored beyond words I can only say that I am sure he wasn’t jesting as I’m holding a signed copy of it in my hands. Definitely a Blue Ribbon winner in my estimation and a book I hope you find time to read and review. Get your copy here:


My signed copy. The following photo is the
end of my written introduction to
Becoming Moon, with my fingers as proof
that little old me actually wrote the introduction
to a bestselling novel!


Tuesday, October 18, 2016

Remembering Halloween-A Poem


Halloween (‘60’s era)
Eve Gaal


Whence we were little goblins-
groovy lithe witches
and rascally cowboys—
nothing wicked mind you,
perchance slightly mischievous-
waiting to run down the street--
giggling from house to house--
proudly shouting trick or treat.

Plans devised for a soulful celebration
powered behind glued on sequins--
the hubris of green felt--- pink ribbons.
Boasting about goals
to fill giant sacs-
we snickered behind our plastic masks--
zooming with super powers-
our hearts charged with wonder.

Beaming at our bounty of sugary fun--
spread like treasure on the breakfast table:
Golden wrapped toffees—
Mr. Goodbars even Bazooka gum.
Black and orange wrapped peanut taffy-
a caramel apple lovingly made by a granny next door-
perhaps a box of Crackerjacks with a small green whistle
you still keep in a drawer-
to remind you of a distant magic--
when shadows cast swirling leaves--
as frolicking ghosts in rustling trees
announced it’s

Hallow’s eve.

Monday, October 10, 2016

Abundant Anniversary

The smoke alarm had to go off on our Anniversary and that’s one of those things that frighten the
collars off our dogs. And while we usually walk together hand in hand with a Chihuahua on each leash, this Columbus day and tenth day of the tenth month under what felt like tropical breezes and warm cloudy skies, I took the short walk around the block myself with Pinky.  (Someone had to change the batteries immediately.)

Pinky takes the lead
Every day, even on a short walk, there are things to see but this time I was duly rewarded with long tall shadows, flowering shrubs and hummingbirds.

The shadows fall
Crossing the street

Do you see the chirpy hummingbird?

The flag in our park
Please ignore the trash on the ground.
Non-locals like to sneak into our park and act like boars.
There's a trash can across from this bench. 

 
 Join me on this special day by having a seat in our one-acre community park where gratitude flowed from my heart as well as inspiration for a poem for my beloved I had to jot down when I reached our now peaceful home.



Happy Anniversary
Thank you Steve for coming into my life 24 years ago—
the man who changed my life.
The spring in my step when I walk our dogs—
the flowering scent along my path.
Your eyes the morning light—
your smile the California sun.
Thank you for being an angel
when I need spoiling.
Thank you for being disciplined and wise
when I need to grow up.
A warm and wonderful shoulder to cry on when I’m sad—
a solid rock of reassurance and a gift from God--

the one who broke the mold—my Steve.


Nature inspires me. How about you? 



Sunday, October 2, 2016

Tale O' Miniature Tail

  
Welcome to my universe. I’m a rescue.
Mom says she’s a rescue too.
Dad says-- mom rescued him but I think there’s more to that story.
The main thing is this: We all need humans.
Tall or stinky,
Young or frumpy
Peeps are important.
They all matter.

And man can they can make a difference in your life.
Take this ordinary suburban yard for example:
Every petal and piece of mulch is mine, (even though there’s another rescued dog around here.)
I am fearless and safe back here.
The mailman is on the other side of the house and
the vacuum cleaner never comes outside.
Sunshine follows me throughout the day.
This is my element.

I prowl around and sniff the grass.
Sometimes I'm thorny like a rose. 
The scent of invaders
such as rabbits and squirrels delights me
especially because they know better
 than to stay on our side of the fence.
I can bark,
yelp and even cry.
I can sleep on the lounge chair
pretending I’m queen.
I am Fiona and if you need rescuing--
 find a human today!

Tuesday, September 27, 2016

Photo Blog of The Fifth Commandment


Peter's Denial, Carl Heinrich Bloch (1834-1890 Danish),
 National History Museum, Frederiksborg Castle


Thought I'd share a few photos about my newest short work titled The Fifth Commandment.


Wikipedia-(New Panama City)


Much of my story is a recollection of old Panama in Central America, which touched my heart as a family friendly, peaceful but humble town across from new Panama City which is full of skyscrapers, restaurants and fast cars.

This breathtaking altar has quite a story
 of it's own involving a Welsh pirate.








 Huge bridges, highways and giant expanses of water separate the old from the new and it almost seems like there’s a time warp of a hundred years between the two areas. 





My pictures are from the old section as described by my character, Christina. 

I loved the serenity in the French Plaza
If you like faith-based stories then click here now.


Even my own dishes inspired me....
but most of the story came to me in my dreams.



Have you ever denied someone you loved?




Wednesday, September 21, 2016

Will My Character believe Christina's Story?

    My nervous character, Father Joe, suddenly feels insecure around two well-known and honorable men of the cloth affiliated with the Basilica in Chicago. They arrived on his invitation to deal with a young girl named Christina who could potentially cause trouble. All of it is giving him nightmares! Here's an excerpt taking place as Father Joe picks them up at the station:
From Chapter 10 of The Fifth Commandment
On sale September 24th thru the 30th

 “Hey, how was the trip?” Father Joe started the car. It was a beige Volvo with 259,000 miles on the odometer. 
     “Fine, except we were a bit rushed due to traffic.” Trying to keep their anxious excitement to a minimum, they continued with small talk about the weather and the train amenities. “How about you?  Anything new since last night?”
   He chocked the vision of Jesus on the side of the church to shadows playing with his mind—but later that evening he had a powerful dream. “Not really, but I’m feeling strange about this whole thing. Our little parish can’t handle the publicity. Imagine what would happen if this leaked out?” He turned on the blinkers and turned into the church parking lot. “Don’t you remember what happened in Medugorje?  Thousands flocked to the tiny village….”
     “Yeah, we remember, Joe” Father George interrupted. “I’ve been there.”
     Father Andrew laughed, “Heck people even pay big money on EBAY for granola clusters shaped like Moses holding stone tablets.”
     “I guess I’m just worried about my generous parishioners. I don’t want anyone taking advantage of their kindness,” Father Joe said as he led the way into his office. “Besides, I had a horrible dream last night.”
“You saw St. Peter?” Andrew quipped.
Father George laughed. “No,” Father Joe explained. “It was us in purgatory. Sadly, I think Christina was there too.”
“Oooh, tell us more,” they smiled and followed each other inside.
“I will, but hold on for a second. There’s a lot going on.”
     “Well, to be perfectly honest with you Joe, I’m kind of excited.” Father Andrew said, searching the room for a plug for his tape-recorder. “Don’t worry, this won’t be another Fatima for goodness sake, have some faith. This is probably the most exciting thing to happen in Normal, Illinois. It could be the economic boost this area needs right now.”
     The office lights were off. Father Joe went to the window first, opening the blinds. It was ten minutes after four. Then he stood up, walked back towards the door and turned on the overhead lights before sitting down at his desk.
“Now, tell us about your dream, Joe.” Father Andrew always loved tales of intrigue.
     “Wasn’t she supposed to be here at four?” Father George asked, as he took his place on the foldout chair.

     “Don’t worry, any teenager wanting as much attention as she does will be here.” He shuffled more bulletins and decided to tell them about his dream while waiting. “Drink anyone?” Father Joe needed one, but waited for them to gently decline. He enjoyed their company, but thought they were a wee bit pedantic. The scholars he knew weren’t as serious as these two and all his friends in school drank wine and scotch like giant beluga whales being released from captivity. They were bigger actors than Christina--all a bunch of phonies. Didn’t they see this hoax for what it really was? He took it to be a young girl’s desperate cry for attention. Why did they need to drag this out for almost a week now? Didn’t they have better things to do than hang out in his parish?


Will Father Joe come to believe Christina's unusual story?
Want to hear about his dream?
Then click here to order your copy of The Fifth Commandment today!

Friday, September 9, 2016

A Rescued Pooch Poem

If I Were a Dog
Eve Gaal


If I were a dog
I’d forget about yesterday
and forgive you today.
I’d remind you to cuddle,
implore you to play.
I’d wait all day until you came home
 ‘til you read the mail and put down your phone.
I’d hold you in the highest esteem--
we...
you and me...
other family members--
the greatest of teams.

If I were a dog,
I’d sleep while you’re away,
anticipating your arrival,
ears perked against rivals,
Fiona's in charge
half awake,
I’d probably bark a lot,
worried you were caught-
held in a cage,
next to stinky mongrels filled with rage.
I’d imagine the smell
Of wet matted hair
strangers that tried to care
for unfortunate beasts carrying disease.
In my nightmares,
I’d remember fleas
landing on my fur--
the unforgettable stench of urine everywhere.

If I were a dog,
Pinky's eyes....
I’d lick your face.
Not to taste,
but only to kiss
the person who understood my heart.
The one who saw into my eyes,
had me leaping off the charts.
I’d have to wag my tail to convince you—
throwing myself at your feet for a belly rub--
my love is unconditional and true.
I’m sure you’d beg to agree--

our lives are better since...you rescued me.

Fiona with a rare smile
Pinky wagging

Saturday, September 3, 2016

Lapdog Required--Black Coffee Optional

I thought I'd put a small note here for those who prefer print books. 
Some of you might remember that Penniless Hearts used to have a delightful
blue cover  with a picture of the beach but my publisher has decided to change
even this rather somber one to something that echoes the humor inside.
 Can't wait to see it!

Both novels and most of my poems are available in print format from Amazon or directly through me. I'd say Amazon might be a better deal because they have free shipping when you buy a certain amount of stuff. This week I purchased two regular priced copies of an anthology that contain a couple poems and one of my stories.Even though the book came out almost a year ago, I have to say it's one of my favorite anthologies. Anyway, instead of free shipping, they sent me a tea infuser shaped like a dog as a kind of bonus. Might make a great gift for one of my tea-drinking, cat loving friends.
My poem Homeless Hearts made third place in the PnP Author Anthology titled,
Our Treasured Stories & Poems
I rarely enter contests and even third place is an honor.
Here's the back of the anthology.

I noticed this book doesn't have any reviews yet.
Don't you want to leave the first one?
Link:
Congratulations to all the winners!

What's your favorite way to read? Do you prefer a Kindle with a kitten in your lap or a print book with a dog? Vice versa? Coffee? Tea?

Thursday, August 25, 2016

The Fabric of Love

Psalm 13913: You formed my inmost being; you knit me in my mother's womb.





I’m winding prayers onto spools.
Every night
and morning—
In between-- 
for those who need it.
A sort of Oompa Loompa
feeding into the atmosphere with
material made of my soul.
Fortunately,
I’m not alone.
This colorful tapestry of prayer
can unravel like crocheted pieces
that need to be reworked.
Quite a global mega project.
When hearts are bursting with pain,
We clasp hands to each other embracing those we love--
Kiss them on the cheek--
glad they’re alive.
We are knit together.
Collective tears drop into floods--
 or get lost in rubble--
quakes in Italy--
homes burning in California.
There are children running from bombs in 2016!
Babies are dying.
It’s time to untangle the anger.
And some people
add to the drama
because they are mad
sad
or just plain bad.
Children dodging bombs in Syria?
Shootings here--there and everywhere?
A 7 year old tried to sell his teddy bear for food—last week in Ohio.
Here--in the U.S. A.
We’re up to our ears in knots!
Can we weave our prayers together?
A tighter--powerful hold—
create a peaceful pattern--

double and triple stitched from the spools of our prayers?

Monday, August 8, 2016

Five Important Messages From Beyond



I haven’t actually met any aliens but let’s say we communicated through some intergalactic messaging system. My first thoughts would believe it’s a divine type of correspondence, such as angels sending humankind messages. Sadly, many would doubt my celestial notions and tell me I’d be jumping to conclusions, because modern science does keep reminding us that there’s life on other planets. Besides, who am I to interpret or translate for the Almighty?
 
Photo from Wikepedia
Either way, whoever is sending me messages is obviously interested in restoring humanity to our world. Lately, I’m receiving more than usual-- of these peaceful and wonderful trans-communications--so I thought I’d share them with you here:  

Don’t stress-(“Let it Be”--Aliens seem to love old Beatles’ songs—I heard it playing during the transmission) My interpretation of this includes road rage, cussing and giving idiots the finger.

Accept it and move on. There are other planets and if it’s too much, at least you have New Zealand. (Canada will work well in a pinch—at least after the election.)

Assist each other as best as you can. Love one another like brothers and sisters—(when possible.)
(This is what made me think heavenly message because it steered clear of romantic love but are aliens romantic?)

Realize that differences make humans interesting and entertaining. While sheep are cute and it’s a great Biblical analogy—humans shouldn’t act like sheep or zombies. (I’m paraphrasing—there was some static).

Use all your talents to create smiles and spread them around. (I love this one!)


I look forward to our daily exploration of the universe and all the possibilities within and around our domain upon Earth. I also hope that during difficult times in your life and even in the lives of those you love, you’ll find the strength to pursue, to achieve success and to conquer all obstacles blocking or zooming in front of you, during any part your journey.


Monday, July 25, 2016

Mixing it Up


I will read anything. Hand me a newspaper, send me to the library or charge up my Kindle because my taste in books is rather diverse—with one large caveat--, I shy away from vampire stuff, werewolves, most horror and all erotica. But that still leaves me contemporary fiction, sci-fi, steampunk, romance, thrillers, mystery and more—even coloring books for adults. Plus, there are also magazines, non-fiction, literature and memoirs. It may or may not be true but in my heart, I believe that by mixing things up, readers are giving independent writers a better chance. If I owned a bookstore, I’d place bestsellers right next to Indie books on the shelves. Here’s a short collection of some recent reviews.





The great thing about fantasy books is that you have to suspend your idea of reality to grasp the author’s intentions. In this case, Sahara Foley designed an entire parallel universe filled with original creatures and two wayward teenagers in a Dodge Dart. Since I typically enjoy stories that take characters on a journey, I was mesmerized from the beginning and glad I picked this book from all the thousands of books available to read on my Kindle. My favorite sentence came near the end but I don’t think that by sharing it I’d spoil anything: “If the human race is going to survive, we have to stop fighting each other over stupid ideas that don’t mean anything and start working together.” Foley writes her dystopian Eden as a place for some sort of hope and renewal and though Jan and Don enjoy running around without their clothes on like modern versions of Adam and Eve, there’s still the problem of Dad, Mike, Mom and a bunch of Skittou. Not to mention the cops. If you like stories about make believe places filled with imaginary characters, you’ll like this adventure about running away from home.





The Double Whammy is a fishing lure used to catch bass but you don’t need to know anything about fishing or bass to enjoy this Hiaasen thriller. Filled with enough twists and turns to give you whiplash while you speed through pages filled with tons of action and humorous descriptions, this is one of those books you’ll try and read in one sitting. The characters almost sound like people we read about in the news and though the writer’s a bit harsh on women—I have to say I enjoyed the salty misogynistic descriptions peppered and embellished with the awful language commonly used by raunchy men in hot, sweaty and swamp like conditions. While the main character is a private investigator by the name of Decker, I was more interested in the wild man Skink and the evil Reverend Weeb. What a riot. Lots of bad men and naughty women but Queenie is my favorite. Find out what happens at the biggest Bass Blasters Classic but hold on to your outboard engine for one amazing ride through Lunker Lakes.




The Third Servant is a very enjoyable book that pulled me along Ezra’s personal journey from the very beginning. I kept comparing Billington’s writing to Paul Coelho or Og Mandino even Jean M. Auel. But as the story unfolded and the journey progressed, I found superior writing with exactly the type of ‘style’ I enjoy. It’s the story of a poor orphaned servant who seeks justice along his quest for truth. He befriends fisherman, nomads, kings, philosophers and soldiers on his journey. He learns to use a sword, bows and arrows and even learns to negotiate. A caravan master tells him that he has many gifts but that his faith and his brain are his greater gifts. Many times before battle, his faith is confused with confidence while his brains are continually sponging up the local customs and languages of his travels. A journey he feels is the will of God and resistance to it would only be futile, thus he seeks his own destiny. But the battles and losses are wreaking havoc on Ezra’s soul. Romans are a threat unlike anything that he has ever seen before. The rules of battle are changing. He needs an infantry of archers and spear throwers. Being incompetent is not an option—either is losing—will luck be on his side? And in his time of greatest need, will he be ready to put down his sword and surrender? Great book. I recommend it highly.




I used to laugh at the idea of Adult coloring books. After all, there are plenty of things more important to create and perhaps better ways of wasting time. Sometimes however, there comes a time in everyone’s life when we need to relax and create a spa-like, sort of Zen atmosphere. Sounds impossible? Not really, because once you start working on Today is Going to Be a Great Day, all of a sudden the worry dissipates and all you can think about is sharpening your colored pencils. No plot to figure out, no emotional characters to make you sit on the edge of your seat but hours and hours of tranquil fun. As you choose your colors, it will put your mind at ease, clearing out any cobwebs or negativity, so you can meditate while creating art.




I loved this book because it reminded me of all the writing struggles I personally have had throughout the years, some of which consist of bitter truths, underpaid delusions, lofty dreams and inspired visions shared by those who traveled similar roads. In other words, I could relate to the overthinking and the landmines created by others. But Becoming Moon deserves to be a bestseller and is immensely polished and well-crafted prose about a sort of conversion.
After glancing at some of the other reviews about this book, I firmly believe that if you haven’t experienced the agony of writing or thrown your heart into some sort of art, then you might not be able to relate in even an infinitesimal way. Professor Schmidt puts it this way: “We artists are nothing; it is the art. We are only conduits. When the artist becomes the art, the art itself dies.” And those looking for gore and gut wrenching violence might want to steer clear because something evil happens in Becoming Moon that’s worse than a death by hanging for a writer and that’s plagiarism. I applaud Mr. Hart for tackling this delicate, painful subject with inebriated imagery and heartfelt melancholy.
Earlier, there’s a conversation in a bar, “We know nothing.” And that’s when you begin to realize that the main character’s soul is drowning analogous to an actual drowning from the beginning of the book. Then the revival pushes him further down the rabbit hole. Trust? Confidence? Huge issues—and women? Kate, Emily and Chloe have their own agendas that make the writer drink with an updated Hemingway style. Lots of creativity here such as a main character no one calls by name but since it’s in first person, you don’t mind. Until he’s completely lost and you want him to have a name. You want him to believe in God and trust in those words he’s humming. Most likely, you’ll hope as I did, that those bees buzzing outside the cabin window are a sign of hope leading to his newfound faith.


Have you read any great books lately? Do you write reviews?