The other day I was thinking about our front porch in Montague, Michigan. Growing up it was used as a gathering place where people were welcomed, listened to, encouraged to share, and I believe, felt loved. I never really understood the significance of all of this until mom and dad were gone, and I could no longer sit on that front porch.
I need your help!
I am participating in a reader-powered process for a publishing contract through Amazon for my novel, "Surviving Stephen."
Here's how it works: Readers browse book campaigns by authors and nominate books that they think deserve a publishing contract with Kindle Press. Amazon takes note of which books readers want and awards contracts accordingly.
Our library in Montague, MI was above the firehouse. I was happy to know I could go there and check out fun books to read. We didn’t have a television so our activities were simple. Reading became an important part of our lives.
One day my father said he had a surprise for me. “I want to show you something, Adele. I’m going to take you to a place where there are many books! We’re going to go to Grossman’s.” (Grossman’s was a very popular department store in Muskegon, MI).
The holidays are over. No more shopping until Valentine's Day. BUT THE GIFTS KEEP COMING. Here's a FREE copy of my award winning first novel in the Sam Jenkins Smoky Mountain mystery series. Simply click on the link and follow the directions to down load your free mobi version (for the Kindle eReader.) If you would like a different version (ePub for Nook and most other eReaders or PDF for PCs and all other devices) just send me an email (the address is provided on the "freebie page") and I'll send it to you.
I hope you enjoy A NEW PROSPECT and plan on visiting Sam Jenkins and all the boys and girls of Prospect PD often.
Best selling writer Jerry B. Jenkins (no relation to my recurring main charaster, Sam Jenkins, or to my maternal side of the family) has asked me to post a link to his new guide on how to write a book in 20 steps from beginning to end on my personal website. After doing that, I thought the AGT members might be interested in obtaining a copy. Here's the link to Jerry's site. https://www.jerryjenkins.com/how-to-write-a-book/
Another tale of growing up in the south, written by my sister, Penny C. Lofton - please visit her website, https://growingupsouthern.net, to read more of her stories.....
OCTOBER 7, 2017 ONEPENNYTHOUGHTS
It was an annual tradition in our small southern hometown. Everyone gathered at the little lake in the middle of town for the annual 4th of July picnic, games and the ever important “Fishing Contest.”
Being a family of five kids, it was a free event that soon became the highlight of our summers. Sure we had a bigger lake for swimming, biking down the hills until we fell into someone’s front yard or the opportunity to go up the tower in town and spit down at the tourists, but it was this fishing contest that always became our nemesis. None of the kids in the family had ever won this fishing contest, though we tried with every kind of bait you could buy or make. We felt that the rule of using cane poles was what was holding us back. Whoever caught the big one with a cane pole? Worse than that was that one of the requirements was we had to build our own cane pole. Lord Almighty, insult upon insult.
One of my sister's short stories from her website, https://growingupsouthern.net - tales from our childhood.....JULY 13, 2017 ONEPENNYTHOUGHTS
It was another scorcher of a day in central Florida. The kind of day that when they said you could fry an egg on the sidewalk and you went and got an egg just to try it out.
We four kids were on the side yard, lying in the shade of the big oak tree. The grass was at least three degrees cooler there than in the sun, but it was three degrees we enjoyed. Our Mother, still pregnant, apparently decided to step outside and try to motivate us. “Why are you kids lolly gagging and dilly dallying around? Don’t you have anything better to do today?” she questioned. We knew better than to remark that she, herself, had been sequestered on a rocking chair most of the day. Her mood had not been what you would want to call happy since the rising heat caught up with her rising belly, so we stepped lightly. “We’re trying to think of something to do,” I answered, knowing that it would buy us some time. It worked because she went back inside, probably to the rocker, but I wasn’t gonna question her.
“I wonder,” I said aloud to no one in particular, “just who is lolly or gagging or dilly or dallying? If I had a choice, I want to be Dilly,” I announced. Well, I had their attention now because I saw their heads move. “What do you mean?” questioned the older sister. “Do you think Mom and Dad have renamed us these ridiculous names for some reason?,” I asked. “It seems as though she always calls us Lolly Gagging Dilly and Dallying. If she didn’t have intentions of calling us by our Christian names but rather by these somewhat silly names, I would think there has been a change that we don’t know about,” I explained to the heathen surrounding me. I felt like a lawyer in some of those Gunsmoke shows we watched. I turned to my side to get a better look at my audience.
(Something all writers can identify with - written by my sister, Penny Lofton.....I invite you to visit her website, https://growingupsouthern.net, to read her hilarious stories about growing up in the south)
I'm sitting here and I hear Simon & Garfunkel's song "The Sound of Silence" and thought... I could write a song to that music about writing! Here it is! Sing along to the tune of "The Sound of Silence" and have a laugh.
Hello keyboard my old friend I’ve come to type with you again ‘cause a story softly creeping Left its words while I was sleeping And the thoughts that were left are planted in my brain and still remain … until I write the story
Within my thoughts I walk alone I know the story must be done ‘Neith the shadow of my frenzied fright I know the words must be just right When my eyes were stabbed by the flash of the laptop light I curse the night … until I write the story
Wayne Zurl has written and shared with us a sad but powerfully moving story about guns in America. He has broad experience in this area and it shows in his writing. He describes in brilliant detail the pain and trauma suffered by victims of gun violence in our country. "Paper Trail" is a story about the senseless killing of children and adults at the hands of a psychopath and the frustration of law enforcement who must deal with the aftermath of such horrific acts. As the slaughter of innocents continues unabated, we should all be ashamed for we allow such carnage by not standing up and defiantly saying, "Enough!" How many of our children, mothers, fathers husbands and wives must die before sensible gun control laws are passed to limit the violence? This is a story for all of us.