Public Appearance

I will be making my first public appearance as an author  this Friday, March 29 at 3:30 PM

at the Merryville Heritage Festival.

I will also be signing books.

This is the website for the festival:

http://www.merryvilleheritagefestival.com/

 

This is the inspiration for plantation in my second novel Resurrection.

The Witching Hour

Contrary to popular belief, the elegant row of oaks that lead visitors to the front porch of Oak Alley Plantation were not planted to grace the drive of this prestigious home.  Instead, this beautiful historic house turned bed and breakfast was built where it stands specifically to take advantage of the picturesque avenue with its intertwined canopy of leafy branches that run the length of the drive almost to the banks of the Mississippi River. The vista is one of the most photographed in all of Louisiana, so the déjà vu you may experience as you walk up the path to the home is probably not other worldly. Cinematographers also enjoy the scenery as well, so you may have glimpsed Oak Alley on the small screen or silver screen.  Arguably its most famous film appearance was in the movie version of Anne Rice’s Interview With A Vampire.

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Heartbroken

A Cloud withdrew from the Sky

895

A Cloud withdrew from the Sky
Superior Glory be
But that Cloud and its Auxiliaries
Are forever lost to me

Had I but further scanned
Had I secured the Glow
In an Hermetic Memory
It had availed me now.

Never to pass the Angel
With a glance and a Bow
Till I am firm in Heaven
Is my intention now.

Emily Dickinson
————————————————————————————————–
My heart is broken tonight.  I cannot imagine what the families are experiencing in Connecticut.  I keep thinking about those poor babies and the terror they must have felt.  As a teacher, I keep thinking what would I do if I were in that situation.  It seems no matter how safe we think we are, these horrible evils keep happening.  Does this happen in other countries?  Do we just not hear about it? Or is this just our country floundering and sinking into an evil despair?
The media wants to make some kind of sense of this massacre, but really even if they do figure out why he did this, it really will not help.  Why would someone do something like this?  Evil does not even start to describe it.
My prayers go out…

Holidays

The holidays are here.  Thanksgiving came and went.  Now we only have two weeks until the children are off for Christmas.  I have so much to do so I’m making my lists tomorrow so I can start checking it off (which is absolutely the best part of making a list).

My apologies to my followers for my long absence!  Please forgive me.  This is a poem for the season and for all of my friends in the North who are getting a blizzard!

Snow-flakes

BY HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW

Out of the bosom of the Air,
      Out of the cloud-folds of her garments shaken,
Over the woodlands brown and bare,
      Over the harvest-fields forsaken,
            Silent, and soft, and slow
            Descends the snow.
Even as our cloudy fancies take
      Suddenly shape in some divine expression,
Even as the troubled heart doth make
      In the white countenance confession,
            The troubled sky reveals
            The grief it feels.
This is the poem of the air,
      Slowly in silent syllables recorded;
This is the secret of despair,
      Long in its cloudy bosom hoarded,
            Now whispered and revealed
            To wood and field.

Another Visit with Pablo

I came across this poem in research for the book I’m writing.  I thought it was amazing so I wanted to share it with you.  Enjoy.

Same Story

by Pablo Neruda

This evening, each hour, it grows earlier:

each splendor, each shadow,

each twilight, dawns anew on our world:

immovable time

masks

its exigent face

and changelessly changes its garment:

each night or in delicate daybreak

the long silence of glaciers,

summer’s reddening apple:

all is vagabond as the wind:

time idles, immobile,

hueless and heatless, sunless and starless:

nothing avails but the absolute

 Goodbye and goodbye. Nothing changes.

Poe on Halloween

On Halloween I thought I would share some Poe with you.  This is one of my favorite Poe poems.       I hope you like it.

A Dream Within a Dream

By Edgar Allan Poe

(published 1850)

Take this kiss upon the brow!
And, in parting from you now,
Thus much let me avow —
You are not wrong, who deem
That my days have been a dream;
Yet if hope has flown away
In a night, or in a day,
In a vision, or in none,
Is it therefore the less gone?
All that we see or seem
Is but a dream within a dream.

I stand amid the roar
Of a surf-tormented shore,
And I hold within my hand
Grains of the golden sand —
How few! yet how they creep
Through my fingers to the deep,
While I weep — while I weep!
O God! can I not grasp
Them with a tighter clasp?
O God! can I not save
One from the pitiless wave?
Is all that we see or seem
But a dream within a dream?

http://www.poemuseum.org

Resurrection Preview

The preview for my second book Resurrection is up now! This is the link:

https://www.createspace.com/Preview/1111987