Celebrating Perseverance

Today, for our Friday Blog-Hop, I am celebrating Perseverance.
It is an admirable quality, I believe; moreover, it works, as my cats have taught me. If I forget the time (writing madly, of course), they begin their assault to remind me that it is "yum-yum" time.
First comes a gentle rubbing around my legs, then a not-so-gentle nibble. And if that doesn't work, they change into the sitting-on-the-keyboard mode.
 

Pasha and Lilliput know what works with unresponsive owners: Perseverance.

Celebrating the Internet

Today, I want to celebrate the Internet.

Just think about it:
We find information, readers find books, writers find readers, and -- most importantly -- I am finding FRIENDS like you.
The Internet has opened up a whole new world for me - while I sit in my peaceful little country corner dreaming and writing about exotic places.

Celebrate with me, my Friends.

Agatha – The Fussy Librarian

This is Agatha. Yes, she is indeed fussy about where she rests her head. Warm laptops are a preferred spot, as is her leather couch. She is also fussy about reading books from talented Indie writers. And so are her owners.

They just opened up a new site. There, they conduct personalized searches for their readers’ preferred genres, alerting them via e-mail of the many great writings by participating Indie authors. Of course, they’ll have to find their own favorite spot to settle down to a good read.

Authors may submit books with a prescribed number of high-starred reviews.

Check it all out here: http://www.thefussylibrarian.com/

Let’s give Agatha and The Fussy Librarian a paw for great success with this effort to bring together fussy readers and great Indie books.

Celebrating Intuition

Do not ever dismiss that feeling you get when something sounds either too good, too strange, or too ...whatever.

Luckily, I had the good sense not to fall for a pith-helmet wearing charmer (well, at least after a while when his stories became too suspect). 

See blog post below.

True Story

Borrow a Golden Retriever, and you have an instant “chick-magnet.”

You laugh? I knew a guy who did just that. He usually also added a riding crop and sported a pith helmet. Why? Most likely he wanted to appear more dashing. Then he strutted about Mission Bay Park in beautiful San Diego. You’d be surprised how many rollerblading young women stopped to pet the dog, and matrons walking (their own) dogs started up an innocent banter.

It was just what Edward expected. Despite the temptation, he seemed only to be taken by the more mature women (once he had established that there was any kind of wealth associated with the lady).

But I don’t want to give the whole story of Edward, Con Extraordinaire, away. You may want to read about him here yourself: http://www.amazon.com/dp/B009BQZ1JY

Celebrating our Dreams

While we encourage our youth to strive and follow their hopes for the future, we also must encourage our seniors to follow their dreams. So many have sunk into their armchair—to wait for death.

I have never been happier. Retiring from an international lifestyle, I moved to a small community in Arkansas. I now follow my dream: To write serious fiction. About Ancient Egypt, to be exact.

The research was fascinating; the gained knowledge astounding. The result—to me, at least—was amazing once Khamsin, The Devil Wind of The Nile, swept out from the Sahara to storm through my pages. I became fascinated with ‘winds,’ and followed up with Sirocco, Storm over Land and Sea. My previous sailing experience comes in handy, as does my command of the English language.

Am I just another unknown on Amazon.com? Sadly, “good writing” does not sell in a culture that no longer wants to follow complex sentences and extensive vocabulary.

But to me, the communicative power of an idea, the descriptive beauty of good prose, and the spreading of knowledge, ideas and imagination is a wondrous achievement. To treasure and share these with my readers is my dream.

As I said: I have never been happier.

A Dog Mourns

Back in May, I had an article about “Duke,” the gentle pit bull, who comes and visits our little neighborhood regularly.

Lately, though, he seemed depressed. Whereas he would come bounding over to me waiting for a stick to be thrown, he now just stands there with his head hanging down. First, I thought it was the heat, as he readily lapped up the water I gave him.

Then, sadly, I learned from a neighbor (writers don’t get out much to hear the latest news), that Duke’s young ‘daddy’ had been in a fatal motorcycle accident. Now, I understand: Duke is mourning.