Silver Fox Tales

No. No. No. No. No.

2011-09-10T12:43:00.003-04:00

NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!

I do not want to "make a statement" with my phone much less my phone service. Of all the political CRAP that clogs the snailmail box, I'm hoping this is not a trend. Have we really come to this? Not just "Vote for/please don't vote for so and so" but "BUY THIS BECAUSE OF/TO BE ANTI SO-and-SO"?

God help us. When we're born, we should come with a giant opt-out button on our little butt.

Complainers Make Me CRANKY

2011-08-29T17:47:00.007-04:00

Regarding folks complaining that Irene was over-hyped by local and state government agencies, listen to Administrator of FEMA Craig Fugate's stone-faced response to Wolf Blitzer's question: "My condolences to the families that lost lives, with homes that have been destroyed; to the communities that have been flooded. We work from a forecast with not so much precision that we can say whose house will be impacted and whose not." (Kudos on his subtext of "Guess what, a world exists outside your backyard." My new hero!) And when asked if they operate under the theory of "better safe than sorry", he responded, "We operate under the theory that you can't change the outcome if you're not ready." <-- THIS!

People who are complaining need to get out there and go see where the "over hype" landed a lot of folks in other Areas, sometimes even in the next town over! And maybe lend a hand in the massive rebuilding of lives and communities that is going to be taking place. And they need to remember all the times they moaned "They should have been ready for this!" How about a little recognition of lessons finally learned? And this, for the "over-hyped" crowd:

"What you see is farms destroyed, crops destroyed,
businesses underwater, houses eroded or swept away and
widespread devastation." GOV. PETER SHUMLIN, of
Vermont, on the aftermath of Tropical Storm Irene

Humans as a whole can sure be short-sighted. As the article linked below says, this storm left an "1100 mile trail of destruction", even if one didn't lose power in one's OWN house.

http://www.guardian.co.uk/world/2011/aug/29/hurricane-irene-trail-destruction

A Picture Worth a Thousand Bags of Hot Air

2010-11-02T12:09:00.002-04:00

A picture worth a thousand bags of hot air.

37 total in 10 days (12 on one day).

And because I have nothing better to do (we put people on the moon and invent things like hanging chads, but we can't come up with a sarcasm font?), here's the breakdown:

Of the 20 republican supportive ads, 8 were positive (vote for me because I can do this for you), 11 negative (don't vote for the other guy because he's a lying scum) (6 of those were paid for by outside organizations) and 1 neutral (just go vote, please). The outside organizations went after the democratic candidate for US senate.

Of the 17 democrat supportive ads, 3 were positive, 12 negative (6 of those were paid for by outside organizations) and 2 were neutral (one of these was an outside organization endorsing a slate). The outside organizations (other than the one neutral ad) went after the republican candidate for US House of Representatives.

So I see which way the wind blows. "We don't campaign negatively. That was [Name of Citizens For or Against Something Group]. We have no control over them!" Horse poop!

Of particular interest was the Mommy Letter (which I counted as "positive", but read on). A US House of Representatives candidate's (party affiliation doesn't matter) mother wrote a heartwarming letter, a one page, typed-on-computer-paper letter in a cursive style font, to all her "neighbors" (25 miles away… hello?) asking for their votes for her wonderful son. I don't know who paid for that one. It wasn't indicated on the envelope, which bore a handwritten "send to" address and a homey-looking, crookedly affixed (more homey!) return address (PO Box... Wonder whose it really is?) sticker, and a real US postage stamp. In my opinion, the Mommy Letter was a big mistake. It made me feel physically ill, not because it was a "my son is wonderful" letter but because it was so blatantly… I dunno… what's the opposite of "fear language"? I felt used and manipulated, and not by the candidate or a committee (such manipulation is expected of them), but by someone's mother who pretended to confide in me as an old friend! Or worse, someone used their mother to manipulate me. Pathetic.

Robo Call Political Jokes

2010-10-25T17:42:00.004-04:00

What's worse than telemarketing?
Telemarketing that leaves a message.

What's worse than telemarketing that leaves a message?
Telepoliticking.

What's worse than telepoliticking?
ROBOtelepoliticking.

What's worse than any of the above?
Robotelepolitical calls that leave messages and take up space.

How do you kill (robo)telepolitics of all kinds?
With a (robo)telepolitics of all kinds gun, of course!!
*Sigh* *Eye roll* No no no. You unplug your telephone for the next 10 days. "Of course".

If they find my cell phone number, I swear I will invent a (robo)telepolitics of all kinds gun.

Philadelphia Sports Fandom Balance Restored

2010-10-24T17:20:00.004-04:00

In less than 24 hours, my faith in Philly sports teams has been ressurected.

The Phillies had a chance to be the first team--in MLB history, not just Phillies history--since the 1940s to go to the World Series three years in a row. That was over with by 11:00++ pm last night as 3rd out Ryan Howard watched strike three slither by. Fear the Beard. *SNort*. Go Texas.

Today, the Eagles were semi-blowing away the Titans after 3 quarters, making it seem as though they might not only win the game but, holy wow, actually be a HOT football team. Then suddenly, in ONE 15 MINUTE QUARTER the Titans scored 27 points. Final score. 36 -19. I won't even bring up the last play of the game. Google it. It was just so... so... Well, go google "long suffering" and "Philadelphia sports fans".

But Oh Em Gee. I'm so relieved. All that winning puts a lot of pressure on the average Philly fan. Now that I know it was all... you know... just teasers, and it's sports as usual in the Delaware Valley, I feel a lot better. (The Flyers and the Sixers, just getting started, could yet ruin the equilibrium, but who am I to complain?)

Dad

2010-05-13T22:05:00.005-04:00

It's coming up on the 15th anniversary of my dad's passing. He's the guy on the far right in the photo above. He piloted that shot-up C-47 back to England after dropping troops into heavy fighting somewhere over Europe in 1944.

He's been on my mind a lot lately, so I thought I'd post the poem I wrote for him.

DAD
By Nan Jacobs © 2002

Dad I wish I knew
all that you went through.
Tall and quiet, you held within
your boyhood joys and carefree days,
friends, and Fords, and bright tomorrows;
a war… and peace… and countless sorrows.

I'm only now beginning
to understand how much
within the Dad who loved us
breathed a man who dreamed and such.

I can't speak of what molded you-
the "Dad" we never knew-
I only know what sculpted us;
it's thanks to you we grew.

You taught compassion, open minds,
and moral decency;
honesty, respect for all,
responsibility.

Dad, I hope you knew
in us some dreams came true.
Precious freedom to be "us",
creating our own stories
of love and dogs and bright tomorrows,
and not too many sorrows.

Polyphemus Moth

2010-05-13T21:33:00.002-04:00

This evening, while weeding the garden, I grabbed a handful of greens and started to pull. As my hand slid along the stem of a squirrel-planted pin oak tree-let, something caught my eye and thank heavens I stopped just before squashing this gorgeous creature, shown here with a (US)quarter-sized dandelion head for perspective:

It didn't fly away in alarm, so I'm assuming either it was cold, or had just metamorphed. His/her body is fuzzy all over, and his/her legs are all fuzzy looking too. It reminded me of a teddy bear! But I didn't want to disturb it to take a pic of the giant body underneath. When I went back later, it was gone. Adios, fair winds to you, Poly Giant!

A is for April... and Autism Awareness: Hair Dryers in a Toaster World

2010-04-10T12:36:00.006-04:00

"Awareness"... what is "awareness"? We have all kinds of "awareness" days, weeks and months, don't we? One could grow too accustomed, wave a hand and say, "pffft, another awareness something-or-other". But just the "Pffting" makes you more aware, doesn't it? :) So, "Awareness" as it pertains to autism is, to me, this:

not "let's find a cure"
not "yes it exists and I'm sick of hearing about it" (face it, autism is the 'fad disorder' of the decade, prone to much misinformation and misinterpretation)
but rather: lightbulb moments and acceptance.

What the world needs now... all that.

Having been on writing hiatus for a year, and intending to stay on hiatus until I'm no longer haitusing... I nonetheless wanted to put something of substance "out there" on this close-to-my-heart subject, and have just stumbled across someone who says it all so much better. It's gratifying to know there's a parent out there who can put things into words, *gracious* words, that others, like moi, can't find. This blog is a parents' point of view, not an autistic point of view, but this is a parent who accepts accepts accepts with a love strong enough to help others learn to accept. And I am a parent, so I share her with you out of, perhaps, a selfish movtivation ("please try to understand me and my kid!")

Enough pontificating. Click on the title of this blog to get to the toasters and hairdryers.

Thanks, MOM-NOS.

Bob "Bubba" Church: Shaking Things Up Elsewhere

2009-04-30T17:31:00.004-04:00

Bob,

there are simply

no words

to express what your friendship has meant to me.

But I'll try.

Leaving life…

the time comes for us all;

finished or unfinished,

ready or not.

But if we can move on

with the satisfaction

of knowing

we've made the world a better place,

then we can move on

without regrets.

You, Bob, have done this.

You

have made

the world

a better place.

You gave the world your deeds.

Your deeds

boggle both

minds and hearts.

You gave the world your words.

Your words

engage both

minds and hearts.

You gave the world your family.

Your family

touches

minds and…

most especially…

hearts.

Minds and hearts.

Are these not the things that

make the world a better place?

Yep. You, Bob, have done this.

Semper fi.

Thanks, dear friend,

Nan

If anyone wants to have a peek into the mind of Bob, there's no better place to start than here (no profit to anyone but the printer):

And if what you find touches you in some way, contact me and I will make sure Bob's family receives your words, or leave a note on his blog (see side bar: Not Quite Right)

Goose Egg Momma

2009-03-22T10:47:00.006-04:00

Goose egg one,
goose eggs two,
goose eggs three...
well, look there--FOUR!

When they're done,
happy you.
Now you're free
to lay some more.

Goose egg one,
goose eggs two
goose eggs three--
by gosh, ten more!

Oh such fun!
What a view
from the tree.
You'll lay no more!

Of course geese don't roost in trees, silly. But I bet they would if they could. Wouldn't you with all those babies trailing behind you, honking?! Don't miss "The Goose Chronicles": Click on the title, "Goose Egg Momma"

The Opening Bell

2009-03-15T14:56:00.003-04:00

[Note: I wrote this last May 2008... Interesting to note my attitude has changed a tad--but only a tad-- since then...]

At 9:18 a.m., daily, Monday through Friday, our local news radio station does a business show called "The Opening Bell". It heralds itself with a bell clanging wildly in imitation, I presume, of the one on Wall Street that announces at 9:30 a.m. Monday through Friday the official open of the trading. This opening bell makes me want to pry the rifle from Charlton Heston's cold dead hands and use it to crack that bell. Give me liberty or give me deaf!

Besides the Opening Din, the station does business reports every :25 and :55 of the hour, every day. But it seems like every five minutes. I flip on the station to hear weather (broadcast 4 times per hour), traffic (6 times per hour!) or sports (twice per hour) and inevitably get . . . (despite the obvious odds) the business report. (It must be assumed that, in a cosmic quirk of equivalence, those who flip on the station to hear the business reports are getting my weather, traffic or sports.)

It seems our economy lives and dies by Wall Street but I, well-educated citizen that I am, have absolutely zero interest in the business reports. All these mysterious indexes seem to run our lives-"NASDAQ" (NSDQ) (National Stock Duds racing team?), S&P 500 (Who won that this year? Earnhardt, Jr.?), the DOW Jones (well, I like to read "Mother Jones"… does that count?), NYSE (is it nice?) . . . I'm sure there must be thousands more. Nuku'alofa Stocks & Sands Exchange… Tuktoyaktuk -600 Wind Chill & Ice Index… who knows.

And how did we allow this to burgeon into a health hazard (witness my ears)? People kill themselves over this thing called the Stock Market! And if they don't, they get ulcers and heart attacks and divorced and put away in jail. Shouldn't there be a Surgeon General's warning?

But what do I know. I certainly don't know what "futures" are, much less pork bellies. When, in middle-and high-school economics classes, we chose stocks to follow, mine always tanked. I was-and remain-clueless. Oh, I could learn, and I suppose it would be a useful survival skill, compared to, say, catching fish (which do carry health-hazard warnings; just read your state's fish and game handbook.) with bare hands . . . but puh-lease! Give me my conservative little mutual fund for the IRA with my dollar cost averaging deposits, and let me forget about any market that doesn't include "super" in front of it.

And give me my gol-danged weather, traffic and sports reports! Hey, you there, listening to the sports report… I'll trade ya . . . .

Thank you all for your support!!! And one more thing... :)

2009-02-09T15:05:00.004-05:00

Thanks to everyone who took the time to go and vote for "Twilight Whispers"! It came in 5th in the Preditors and Editors poll for best short romantic story of 2008! What a great honor.

Now it's in the running at "Long and Short Reviews" for best short of 2008!

If this keeps up (and I hope it does! heh!) I will be quite unable to make meals or do laundry for my family due to Big Head Syndrome (won't be able to get through the "office" [such as it is] door). (Not that they'll notice, since these activities are spotty at best.)

Romancing February: Beyond "Roses are Red"

2009-02-06T00:00:00.038-05:00

Some people are so afraid to let their inner poet sparkle. But just imagine the happiness on your loved one(s)' face(s) when you present them with a special Valentine's poem. And imagine their surprise and delight when you tell them you wrote it yourself!

Bah, you say. I can't write poetry.

Baloney, I say.

On Valentine's Day, everyone's a poet (you know… the ole "Roses are Red" thing). Why don't you try it? I bet you can do better than "Roses are Red…"

I don't think of myself as a poet, either, so I like to fool around with forms that have specific requirements, such as cinquains, which give me a solid starting point. To write a cinquain, the form is five lines (with no need to rhyme) like this:

First line: two syllables

Second line: four syllables

Third line: six syllables

Fourth line: eight syllables

Fifth line: two syllables

They can be as simple or as "deep" as one wishes. They seem to flow best with minimal use of such words as the, and, as, of, etc., but without making it sound like you're forcing the absence of such words, either. (And aesthetically speaking, they're very cool looking if you format them as centered. They look like little Christmas trees! Useful, of course, for holiday cinquains. :-))

Here is one that I wrote a long time ago for a 60^th wedding anniversary, but now roll out every February or as needed.

My love
embraces you
with a joyous heart song
rising from a soul nurtured by
your love.

My love
cherishes you;
with every heart beat
it finds the purest essence of
your love.

Now you try. Post them here, or leave a link to your own blog where you've posted it. Anyone who leaves a comment here between today and Valentine's Day (Feb 14^th) (with or without a cinquain, but I will be so sad if you don't at least try :-) ), is entered to win a pdf copy of my 46 page short story Twilight Whispers. Winner announced late Feb 14th^th. Drawing by random generator: my kid via Pokéball.

Wait, there's more! If you write a cinquain and share it with us here as a comment, I will enter your name in a second drawing to win a cute little wrist-or-ankle bracelet (chain is 6 3/8 inches) with a heart-shaped charm (same deadlines, same random generator apply). From the heart is what counts. :)

For those who are blog-hopping, following the Romancing February (prizes daily! grand prize on Feb 28^th!) or who would like to catch up, yesterday's blog was Ashley Ludwig. Tomorrow's will be Susan Palmquist . To start from the beginning go to Amber Leigh Williams. Each post will lead you to the next blogspot.

The Powerful Voice of Jennifer Hudson

2009-02-02T12:58:00.006-05:00

There are simply no words to describe this stirring performance. (View it quickly before the NFL insists on its removal)

Romancing February

2009-01-31T00:00:00.011-05:00

On February 6th, SilverFoxTales will host the 6th day of a blog-hopping party for romance readers! Read on for details from the official event blurb:

"28 romance authors invite you to participate in a month-long event of love and laughter. Each day starting Feb. 1, 2009 an author will throw a romance party at her blog and host a contest with a prize. The link to the next day's blog location will also be provided at each location. Just drop by and enter the contest. And get ready to heat up the cold wintry days of February. You could win a prize a day!

"On February 28th, one person will be awarded the grand prize of a $75 WRP (Wild Rose Press) gift certificate. All you have to do to enter the grand prize contest is make a list of each author in this blog event and name one title she has available. Submit your list to Christmasrideblog@live.com by midnight CST, February 27, 2009. The winner will be announced on February 28th--just in time to warm up that person's February.

"Visit http://www.amberleighwilliams.blogspot.com on February 1st to begin."

A True and Honest Account of the Death of Johnny Ringo, By Doc Holliday

2009-01-14T16:53:00.007-05:00

The saloon doors swung open. Above the rowdy music and raucous laughter, an ominous sound reached our ears: the slow, deliberate "chink, chink" of spurred-and-booted feet stalking across wood plank floors, drawing ever closer.

"Howdy, Marshall," said Johnny Ringo. A sneer curved his overly sensual lips, belying his genial words. "What you drinkin'? 'S on me. Barkeep, pour our good sheriff another milk." He laughed then, in a tenor as manic and chilling as a soul should hope to never hear. The murderous gunslinger was a handsome man, though; I conceded him that, albeit he was destined to never again expend his manly substance on pretty Miss Carrie, who presently screeched out a bawdy song vis-à-vis her nightly business ventures.

The brooding man whom Ringo addressed slouched indifferently against the bar. Tombstone's sheriff and my good friend, Wyatt Earp, grunted. He pushed his shot glass across the polished bar surface. Barkeep poured him two fingers of milk. Earp tidily groomed his thin, dark moustache before sipping the vile stuff with as much politesse as any woman. For making public note of such a thing, however, a man might get himself killed.

I downed my bourbon in one swift gulp and pushed my cup across, as well. Barkeep handed me the whole damned bottle. "Thank you, Sir," I said. "Put it on his tab." I inclined my head toward Ringo.

"Why you--" Ringo barely laid his fingers on his gun before I had my revolver unholstered and aimed straight between his wild, ice-blue eyes. Forthwith, the piano player ceased his hammering, Miss Carrie uttered one last screech, and silence descended over the heretofore-boisterous saloon.

"You, Sir, are temptin' me mightily to look for an excuse to blow a hole clean through that empty vessel you call a head."

At this pronouncement, patrons dove under tables and shielded themselves with chairs and any such accoutrement to which they could lay hand.

Ringo's hand moved and I squeezed the trigger. Once, twice, a third time for good measure. The harsh scents of fear and gunpowder pervaded my nostrils. Ringo jerked with each shot. Dark red liquid sprayed forth as, one after another, the bullets exploded through his brain.

He slid to the floor as his life's blood bubbled and frothed from his mouth, ears, and the supplementary holes in his heinous head. I holstered my pistol and poured a generous drought of bourbon into my tin cup, which had never departed my other, idle hand.

Earp raised his glass, half empty now of the repulsive milk. With a shudder, I tapped my cup against his glass. Then, Earp slowly turned himself about on his elbows and observed Ringo's lifeless form. "Vermin," he said. "Much obliged, Doc."

He jerked his head toward Ringo's body, summoning forth two strapping cowboys who then dragged the expired villain away.

I often wonder, now in my later years as I lie slowly spewing forth my own life's blood to this cruel consumption (which has not taken me quickly enough to suit), if Miss Carrie mourned Johnny Ringo. She was but a prostitute who, gladly and with great enthusiasm, gave womanly comfort to all manner of men including myself and, I daresay, Wyatt and his brothers. She left town, however, one week after Ringo's death. Some say Miss Carrie changed her name and thenceforth commanded as ruthless a gang of outlaws as yet defiled our land, only to end her life on a rope in Mexico.

Do we not, then, each pay the debts of our souls in this lifetime?

************************************

The above scene and the character called Miss Carrie are fictional.

Doc Holliday and Wyatt Earp, two legends of the American West, really existed, as did their association in Tombstone, Arizona with each other and John Ringo, a feared gunslinger and outlaw of the times.

Wyatt Earp passed away in 1929, aged 80, having, amazingly, never sustained a bullet wound.

Tuberculosis finally took the life of John Henry "Doc" Holliday, a well educated, but volatile, Georgian, in 1887. He was 36.

It is not known by whose hand John Ringo died. His body was found in July 1882, a single bullet through the brain being the apparent cause of death. It is highly doubtful that either Wyatt Earp or Doc Holliday killed him, although I surmise neither mourned his passing. During their mutual time in Tombstone, the three men had run-ins aplenty, with and without guns. In addition, there exists the likelihood of tension between Holliday and Ringo over a woman, Holliday's wife, "Big Nose Kate".

I wrote this as an attempt to write in a voice entirely not my own. Lesson learned.... it is difficult to disguise one's own writing voice.

Sources:

Tefertiller, Casey. Wyatt Earp The Life Behind the Legend.
New York: John Wiley & Sons, Inc., 1997

Tefertiller, Casey. "Dangerous Charm: John Ringo of Tombstone." WildWest February 2000: 38+

Pretty Please with Whipped Cream on Top?

2009-01-12T22:49:00.003-05:00

Well holy moly! My dear sweet favoritest editor Sarah Hansen, of The Wild Rose Press, who brought Twilight Whispers to the light of day--well, to the backlight of a computer screen or e-reader, at any rate-- nominated Twilight Whispers for Best Short Story (romance) at the Preditors and Editors annual reader's poll! Not only that, it's currently tied for 12th place!

Thank you to everyone who's lent their support already, and thanks in advance to those who might still (hint hint hehehe) sneak over there by January 14th (that's Wednesday!) and put a dot next to Twilight Whispers on this page:

http://www.critters.org/predpoll/shortstoryr.shtml

or next to Sarah Hansen's name (she's #10! at this very moment) here:

http://www.critters.org/predpoll/bookeditor.shtml

And while you're at it, give a shout out to Word Catalyst Magazine's fantastic founder and editor, Shirley Allard:

http://www.critters.org/predpoll/zineeditor.shtml

and to Word Catalyst magazine itself:

Fiction e-zine: http://www.critters.org/predpoll/fictionzine.shtml
Poetry e-zine: http://www.critters.org/predpoll/poetryzine.shtml
Non-fiction e-zine: http://www.critters.org/predpoll/nonfictionzine.shtml

No need to stay glued to CNN for this election. Poll standings can be viewed here:

http://www.critters.org/predpoll/tally.html

There. That little project should keep you out of trouble for a while...

Book of My Heart

2009-01-08T16:24:00.004-05:00

Book of My Heart
by Bob Church (aka "Not quite Right")

I've known Bob since... oh... 1999? 1998?? 2000??? heh... anyway, for a pretty long time. In September '08, I met him and his family in person for the first time, along with a few other writers from the Word Catalyst Magazine online family. What a trip (including the hot rental Mustang and the St Louis arch, but those are just side notes to the food--oy vey!-- and cameraderie).

Bob is probably the most versatile writer I know. He can wrap a complete story around one word that intrigues him (he has caused worn pages in my dictionary let me tell you!), and this old Marine Vet writes some of the most romantic poetry one can imagine. Then of course there's the alter ego, Bubba Strunk. Oh my.

This collection of Bob's poetry, short stories and novellas is my tribute to his life and talent--and it barely scratches the surface of the body of his work. Thanks to those who requested specific stories and poems, and to those who helped out in other ways.

If you've never read anything of Bob's, your life is not complete. That's all there is to it.

And after you've read it, go to his "Not Quite Right" blog and leave a note for him on his last post. I know he'd love to hear from you.

[Note: The book is not for sale for profit; it is merely a sharing of Bob's... um... uniqueness... using the "blurb.com" software to compile it and make it available. The cost you see is the base cost that blurb.com charges to offer the book and print it on demand. I ordered test copies and am pleased with the quality. If you follow the link, you can preview the first 15 pages.]

WINNERS OF CONTEST #2

2008-12-24T23:56:00.004-05:00

Congratulations to Jo J of PA for coming up with the most # of correct detailed answers.

Second place was a tie, for which a random draw (close the eyes and pick) determined the second place winner to be Karen H of NC.

Congratulations to Jo and Karen! Thanks to everyone who took part, and thank you for reading Twilight Whispers!

I will be contacting you soon for your preference in gift certificates.

Here are the correct answers:

1. What color is the wooden soldier?

Scarlet, Prussian red, with gold epaulets

2. What color are Lee's eyes?

Twilight blue

3. What music is playing when Lee first walks into the room where Bethany is dancing by herself?

Raucous Chuck Berry rock-n-roll

WINTER SOLSTICE

2008-12-21T22:11:00.004-05:00

There is something magical to me about the winter solstice, heralding the slow return of longer days in the Northern Hemisphere. This was the view out our back window this afternoon as the sun set at its earliest for the year, after melting some (but not all, as you can see!) of the ice from our trees and shrubs today, left from the ice storm on Dec 19th.

White Christmas Book Jublilee

2008-12-08T00:49:00.010-05:00

(click on the image above to see all 12 goofy days!)

December 8th to the 14th -- Come one, Come all to a special Christmas Book giveaway event. Make sure to pop in everyday for a chance to win. There will be lots going on everyday--all day long.

White Christmas Book Jubilee
14 Authors ~ 14 Holiday Book Giveaways
December 8th to December 14th
Free Books, Holiday Recipes, and Excerpts to warm you to the tips of your toes
Don’t miss the celebration!
http://cindykgreen.blogspot.com/dykg reen.blogspot.com/

Schedule:
Monday, December 8th – Rose Ross Zediker & Jan Scarbrough
Tuesday, December 9th – Pamela Thibodeaux & Linda Swift
Wednesday, December 10th – Cindy K. Green & Sarita Leone
Thursday, December 11th – Kara Lynn Russell & Anna Kathryn Lanier
Friday, December 12th – Marianne Arkins & Stacey Joy Netzel
---->Saturday, December 13th – Nan Jacobs & Teri Wilson<---
Sunday, December 14th – Stacy Dawn & Carla Rossi

That Intangible "Something": What's Yours?

2008-12-07T19:26:00.006-05:00

When we read a romance, the author has to make us believe that the hero and heroine will still be together 25 or 50 or 60 years later, once the backseat of the car or the top of the kitchen counter are no longer feasible (oh, but certainly not impossible! heh!) options for spontaneous demonstrations of all-consuming passion. In our real lives, that elusive element is, perhaps, a bit harder to perceive.

Because my husband and I recently celebrated our 25th wedding anniversary (like… whoa…), I'd like to ask you to consider what you believe to be that intangible "something" that holds a long term relationship together over the years. I'm sure there's a list somewhere, and I know there must be relationship books that cover this topic, but what I want to know is, what, to you, is the most important "intangible" that enhances the chances that a long term relationship will survive?

For us, it seems to be the ability to have fun, and a sense of humor—particularly the ability to laugh at ourselves or at the two of us as a couple, as an entity. Our worst quarrel involved the banging about of small pieces of furniture. (Okay, let's be honest… kitchen chairs…) Who knows, anymore, what aroused our ire with each other to the point we lost our verbal skills completely! (Well… not quite… ahem.) What matters, though, is that we eventually moved past whatever "it" was, and have turned that moment into an asset. Now, when a disagreement escalates, we routinely threaten each other--in jest, mind you!--with a chair toss and inevitably break out laughing. The dispute is not forgotten, but it is put in its proper perspective and settled in less of a R-o-l-a-i-d-s moment.

Let's hear your thoughts on the "intangible somethings" that keep love alive.

Woo hoo! A "5-Book" Review at The Long and Short of It

2008-12-06T00:53:00.010-05:00

Read the review

A lovely email came from these folks telling me that Twilight Whispers is up for Best Book honor this weekend (voting runs from Saturday, 12/6, through Sunday, 12/7/08). You can find the info (click here) at LASR. I'll be very grateful to anyone who takes a moment to go and vote (wait!! I thought we were all done with this "Get Out The Vote" stuff!! ahhhhiieeeeeeee!)

What City Do You Belong In?

2008-12-01T00:07:00.002-05:00

Okay, so I found this fun little thing on Cindy Green's blog and thought I'd send it out into more of the world. I kind of figured myself for more of a Tuktoyaktuk kind of soul, but hey... London will do in a pinch. Let me know where you belong, too! Maybe we will meet one day in London. Or Tuk. Heh!

You Belong in London

A little old fashioned, and a little modern.

A little traditional, and a little bit punk rock.

A unique soul like you needs a city that offers everything.

No wonder you and London will get along so well.

What City Do You Belong In?

Contest #1 Winners!

2008-11-30T21:18:00.005-05:00

Congratulations to

WENDY DAVIS and

MARY RICKSEN

You have each won a free copy of Twilight Whispers! Don't forget to enter Contest #2, after you've read it, for the chance to win a $15.00 gift certificate to your choice amazon.com or thewildrosepress.com (second place = $5.00 gift certificate). See Contest #2 blog post for details. (Deadline is Dec 23rd)

Drawing of papers with names was done by my personal random generator, my kid. :)

"I Shall Be Released"

2008-11-19T00:45:00.001-05:00

With apologies to Dylan, of course.

Last April, when editor Sarah Hansen of The Wild Rose Press happily informed me (no, Virginia, editors don't actually like to reject us) that she loved my story, "Twilight Whispers", and wanted to offer a contract for it, I followed the advice of Those Who Have Gone Before:

Don't jump at the offer even though you want to nominate this person as the next named saint. Discuss the terms first and make sure they fit into your concept of how your career should be going. (Career?! Check.)
When you accept the offer, and they send you the contract, READ IT and make sure it's what you expected and wanted and can live with. ASK QUESTIONS. (Labeled self as anal retentive pest. Check.)
Once you have signed the contract, start NOW on promotion (Cool beenz, lotsa fun stuff; check) because the release date will be here before you know it (yeah right, that's seven whole months away).

Yes, I did those things. ::Pats self on head::

And suddenly, the release date is today! Howdathappen??? ("They" were right! "Check" after all.)

So here we are. And here it is: released and available! It's a bargain at $1.50, being just shy of the word count that would have put it in the next price range. Because of its brevity, about 36 pages, it's available only as an electronic download. You can read an excerpt on my website, and, moving from my patting my own head to patting my own back, here is what has been said of Twilight Whispers:

"Warming, enticing... Nan Jacobs has spun a tale of Christmas magic!"
Christine Bush, author of "Love, Julie", Avalon Books

“Romantic and eerie…A well-written tale that will keep you guessing ‘til the end.”
Donna Birdsell, author of "Wolf's Temptation", Berkley

Now for the really good part: free stuff. You may enter one or both contests, any time between now and their cutoff dates.

Twilight Whispers Contest #1: Almost Instant Gratification (AIG? Yikes!): Deadline Nov 28th; Winners (2) announced Nov 29th. Copy of "Twilight Whispers". To enter click here: Contest #1

Twilight Whispers Contest #2: It's In The Details: Deadline Dec. 24th; Winner and Runner Up announced Dec. 24th. Gift certificates to amazon.com or thewildrosepress.com. Story-related questions answered via email. To enter click here: Contest #2

Twilight Whispers Contest #2: It's In The Details

2008-11-18T22:01:00.009-05:00

Twilight Whispers Contest #2: It's in the Details

Grand Prize (one): Your choice of one of the following:

$15.00 e-gift certificate at Amazon.com or

$15.00 e-gift certificate at thewildrosepress.com

Runner Up (one): Your choice of one of the following:

$5.00 e-gift certificate at Amazon.com or

$5.00 e-gift certificate at thewildrosepress.com

Deadline Dec 23rd 2008

Winners announced Dec 24th 2008

How to enter:

Read a copy of Twilight Whispers between now and Dec 23rd 2008 (inclusive) It's only 40-some pages, no need to feel stressed out!

Answer the following three questions as specifically as possible:

What color is the wooden soldier?
What color are Lee's eyes?
What music is playing when Lee first walks into the room where Bethany is dancing by herself?

Email the answers to me here: "nanjake at gmail dot com" (leave out the quote marks, leave no spaces, and insert the "usual" email symbols for "at" and "dot"). (I will not collect your email address for a mailing list, nor give it out to anyone else.) Please put "TW Contest" in the subject line. (It won't DQ you if you forget, but it will make it easier for me to pick out a contest entry!)

Note: There may be more than one entry with correct answers, but the greater chance to win is in the details. For example, if the question is "How fast did the character run?" and one person answers, "Fast," but another answers, "As fast as lightening," they're both correct. However, the second entry wins (assuming that "lightening" was the detail used in the story). If there is a tie, I will toss the names into a ballcap and let my kid choose randomly.

Please, do not leave the answers as comments on this post (comments which include the answers will be deleted, but other comments are welcome!).

Twilight Whispers Contest #1: Almost Instant Gratification

2008-11-18T21:44:00.012-05:00

Twilight Whispers Contest #1: Almost Instant Gratification

NOTE: SMALL CHANGE IN DEADLINE AND DRAWING DATE

Prize: Two copies (pdf files) of Twilight Whispers for two entrants

Deadline Nov 28th **EXTENDED ONE DAY TO NOV 29th**

Drawing on Nov 29th. Check Silver Fox Tales on Nov 29 for the announcement! **DRAWING and winners announced ON NOV 30 (extended one day)**

How to enter for a chance to win a copy of Twilight Whispers:

Leave a comment here between now and **Nov 28th (inclusive)**(extended to Nov 29), and your name will be entered into a drawing to be held on Saturday Nov 29th (extended to Nov 30)

You may enter more than once by leaving comments on any of my other blog posts (not related to either contest) and including the notation "TW" at the end of your comment (one entry per post).

Reminder: don't forget to comment with a unique user name (so I can come read your blog!), or if you are going to comment as "anonymous", make sure you identify yourself in some way.

Good luck and thank you for participating!

The "I LOVE YOUR BLOG!" Thing

2008-11-15T21:36:00.043-05:00

Okay, so, I receive "google alerts" for my name and the title of my story, Twilight Whispers, which tracks, sort of, where we are being mentioned out there. I want to be prepared, you know, in case the FBI is watching. Today one landed in the inbox that announced, "I Love Your Blog!" Cool! Thank you Suzanne, it was a major day-brightener!

Now comes the hard part: I must choose 7 more blogs to forward the love... Not that I can't think of 7 more blogs, just that I can't choose only 7. I've chosen mostly the folks I already follow (see the sidebar). But now let me tell you why I follow them.

One of my favorite quotes describes how I feel about Bob "Bubba" Church:

Be grateful for whoever comes, because each has been sent as a guide from beyond. --Rumi (The Guest House)

Bob's way with words knows no bounds; if you've never read his stuff, your life is poorer for it! It's way too quiet over in Bubbaland, though, and his cyber friends are praying for his safe return. And I promise I'm still working on the "blurb.com" project. But people who are prolific can't expect instant gratification. :)

My friend Julie Buffaloe-Yoder's poetry speaks of slow southern days... dark moments... unexpected joys and sorrows... with words that come alive on the page. Anyone who thinks poetry is only good as a performing art hasn't read Julie's stuff. (It also helps that Julie seems to love my comments and doesn't mind my seagull. Heehee.)

My fellow columnists at Word Catalyst Magazine have blogs you simply must not miss (nor their columns and stories and poetry at the magazine's site); I will cheat and count them as "one" so I can fit in more "I love your blog" blogs!

Karen Heywood may not post often but when she does, whoa! Thoughtful, lyrical stuff of the everyday life and the not-so-everyday.

Dan Beams with his very sneaky sense of humor and insightful view of the world is sure to please. Don't miss "Unity". (We're waiting for the sequel, Dan.)

Shirley Allard seems to have a sweet whisper of a poem in her soul for everything she experiences.

Meet Harry… I haven't quite figured him out (has anyone?), but I love him and I love his passion for poetry.

Last but certainly not least!! Jo Janoski whose eclectic style is delightful, and her stories always take you where you least expect to wind up! (blblblbl!)

S.L. Corsua's poetry is, in a word, sublime.

DavidzRantz and his second blog, The Lair of the Silver Fox where he stores all the "good stuff", is worth a visit. (He tried to bribe me out of my blog name but hey, I only take chocolate.)

Miss Snark the Literary Agent may have retired from blogging, but the information there is still valuable and fun.

If spirit and fingers are willing and able, go forth and share the love.

Her Forgotten Soul

2008-10-19T19:45:00.013-04:00

Jeune Fille Vert by Tamara de Lempicka

Her Forgotten Soul

beneath the brim
amber eyes go dim
to hide her soul

in satin green
and gloves of cream
she hides her soul

eyes of fire
build a pyre
devour her soul

heavy hands
hot demands
destroy her soul

the face so young
when night is done
reveals her soul

response to Word Catalyst Prompt

"Spreading the Wealth Around" ?

2008-10-16T20:05:00.065-04:00

Heck with this early blogette... A million per inch... pffft. Pin money.

Presidential hopefuls Obama and McCain are expected to spend, combined, thirty million dollars per week--per week--on political ads between now (Oct 16th 2008) and November 4th, 2008. That's not quite a full three weeks but, since I'm math challenged, let's call it three weeks, or ninety million dollars.

90,000,000.00. (Somebody double check me on those zeros)

Forgive me if I'm nitpicking, but isn't that, relatively speaking, compared to Joe-(maybe not)-the-Plumber's income and mine, almost one tenth of one billion dollars, and isn't that almost point-zero-one-two-eight-five percent (.01285%)--i.e., $700,000,000,000.00 multplied by .0001285--of the ~~rescue~~... ~~BAILOUT~~ ... of the plan for which our descendants, possibly even our next evolutionary forms will still be paying? That the expenditure on political campaign ads even can be a percent relatable to our national budget (for lack of a better word)--even with the margin of error you will most certainly find in my XTreme Fuzzy Math, and despite a propensity to loose track of the zeros--is kinda-sorta downright scary.

Campbell Brown said what I've been thinking for the past ... I dunno ... three ...? ... decades regarding this obscene spending habit that politicians have. Watch and listen:

(Note: you can read the transcript by clicking on "Campbell Brown said"; I'm trying to get the video to embed so it can be seen, but it doesn't work for me to use either cnn.com's "embed" code or blogger's [embed-"URL"-/embed] version, so far. If anyone has a clue on how to get this video to play here, let me know...)

Politico Ponies

2008-10-14T14:16:00.020-04:00

Like traveling gnomes, "Little Ponies" Lickety Split (L) and Morning Glory (R) travel to exotic places, too. Here: a political rally (for Obama, but that's not the point) in Horsham, PA. Woo hoo...

Here they are watching Mayor Nutter sign a, um, sign...

...and (s)nickering over Governor Rendell's bald spot as he walks away. (Sorry Ed; they understand now that was rude and want to apologize.)

WOW... this little pony has never seen such a crowd (above). Well... except maybe in Providence Rhode Island...at the annual Pony Convention:

Whew. They're exhausted. But they want you to know they've also been to Turkey Swamp (!!) State Park in New Jersey. What will be next? Hoboken? Hackensack? Milwaukee??

A Hill' of a Moment

2008-10-13T21:30:00.016-04:00

Politically inclined, I am not. But this year, we--my husband, my kid and I--have "CNN" stamped on our foreheads. We have invited Wolf, Campbell, Lou, Larry and Anderson, and all their cohorts and guests, into our living room nightly since the Democratic National Convention began. God knows why, except that we are determined to have a more thorough understanding of the ~~lies~~ rationalizations and promises and rhetoric that we hear every four years before casting our precious votes this time, and because this is the first presidential election in which our kid will be eligible to vote.

So today, for the first time in our lives, and because we have made our informed decisions, my kid and I attended a political rally: Hillary Clinton (and State representative Rick Taylor and US Representative Allyson Schwartz and Philadelphia Mayor Michael Nutter and PA Governor Ed Rendell) stumping for Barack Obama.

Honestly? I was surprised to find myself there. Because, you know, they preach the party line and fling their propaganda to the choir and everyone cheers and boos at all the "right" places. I mean... come on. Why bother? Shrug. Alotta BS all in one place, right?

I now fully understand the concept of "energizing the base". I found myself cheering and whooping at all the right moments. Why? Because I believe in what Hillary says. Notice I don't fall into a full "I believe what she says"... but what she says, I believe in. And do you know what? I think she, and everyone else whooping and cheering, does too.

We captured a very brief video of a clever, if not melodramatic, part of her speech, a tried and true partisan piece of Bush whacking. I think I pretty much believe in that, too (although I wouldn't admit to enjoying such partisanship out loud). And so I've embedded it below (from my kid's youtube page) for your chuckles or pickle throwing, whatever suits you. Heh.

But Hillary said something else that resonated on a far deeper level; unfortunately we didn't capture this on video.

She said:

"This great country of ours is as much an idea as a place..."

That's all it took. That's when I joined in. This small portion of the independent base was fully energized by a Hill of a moment.

Please... go out and vote for the change that you believe in.

Candy Dates (Cinquain)

2008-10-03T20:18:00.003-04:00

Candy
dates, sweet outside;
tear open shiny wraps.
Revealed: smooth slick tart candidates
debate.

response to Word Catalyst prompt

Twilight Whispers Cover Art

2008-09-27T15:38:00.010-04:00

This is the cover art for my short story Twilight Whispers, to be released on Nov 19, 2009 by The Wild Rose Press. It's too short to eventually come out in print, but will be available for download in a variety of formats.
You can find an excerpt on my website.
I'm just tickled pink that someone liked it enough to produce it for public consumption!

P.S. If you like free reads, do check out The Wild Rose Press. They offer a long list of free short stories (romances) for your reading pleasure.

Remnants of Her Life

2008-09-27T14:57:00.003-04:00

Mom,
all that's left of you
surrounds me:

Your address book, old birthday cards,
your certificate of death.
Here . . . your floppy hat, a faded silk rose;
those silly red socks,
an old brown bag.

Were these your life?
Is this all that's left of you?
Are you really gone?

I see you now in dappled light,
shaded by your floppy hat.
The rose, plucked from hat's brim,
tickles your grandson's chin.
In your welcoming lap, he giggles.

I picture a child knitting,
her first attempt, with soft red yarn.
The silly red socks you never could part from . . .
now neither can I.
I hold them, and I touch you.

The brown bag smiles at me;
through slits your eyes twinkle.
Ah . . . your last Halloween costume.
I laugh. The "Old Bag" laughs with me.
We laughed a lot, you and I.

You're not gone. You're here
wearing the hat, the socks, the bag,
tickling memories with your rose.
You're still with me.
You're here.

All that's left of you is in my heart.
You surround me,
Mom.

Somebody Else's Detour

2006-07-31T16:19:00.002-04:00

"Stoooopid anxiety". Do you know it? Not the sweaty-palmed, heart-racing garden variety anxiety, but the take-over-a-tiny-corner-of-your-mind, niggling anxiety that gnaws, insidiously, like a termite in a two-by-four, until you notice that you're anxious about . . . what, exactly? And when you finally figure out what "what" is, you don't roll your eyes, no, you roll out the red carpet and embrace "what" with every remaining brain cell. This is "stoooopid anxiety."

You're driving along, maybe the sun's not shining, but your windshield wipers don't squeak or smear in your line of vision, no one is tailgating and no one is honking-because-they-love-to-scrapbook or hate the way you drive. Life is good. So why do you feel like a homeless beaver has chosen your brain stem for his tree du jour?

Then you realize what, for several miles, has been seeping into your consciousness: orange signs with black arrows and one ominous word (each): DETOUR. Not the ones that signal that you'll soon need to make a change in your planned route. The ones that tell you that you're on somebody else's detour. And thus it begins:

I'm on a detour? How can I be on a detour, I'm good with maps, dammit. When did I get on this detour? Where did it start? Where does it go? What road is out? Is a bridge out somewhere? Is this my detour? Am I supposed to be following it? No, stoopid, it's somebody else's detour! Will there be a sign where they have to turn to stay on their detour? What if the sign falls down? What if some joker changed the direction it points? Somebody else might get lost! What if-oh fergodssake. I just missed my turn.

Crap, there's a NO TURNING sign in that driveway. If I do a U-ie there anyway, what if they're looking out their window? Will they call the cops? What if they have a big dog? What if they have a big shotgun? How fast can I accelerate back onto the detour that's not mine?

What's that sign-YARD SALE TODAY. Is it really today? Or was it yesterday, or a week ago? Maybe next week? How many people have gone looking for that yard sale today but it's not there? Did they wind up on somebody else's detour, too, on their way to the yard sale that might not be there?

Crap. Missed my turn again.

Order Status, Much Pondering (Or: How to Recycle Spam Subjects)

2006-07-07T20:58:00.000-04:00

Order Status, Much Pondering

By Samuel Clements

Hi, moth bean,

Attention all small stock players! Sara examined Mark! Confirm, please--did a unit see Sara buy a replica Rolex at only a fraction of the price? Just out, every man wants it: Nurse tub; Flomax, propecia; software at low prices; loan request; refinance report; Corel Draw, OEM. All here! Just added and the results will impress your girl. Your invoice is ready. Added bonus offer: lick annoy or shame of sex? We can change it. Test the sweets of life yourself. Big boom on look!

Less is More (Huh?)

2006-02-24T16:04:00.000-05:00

My thyroid has apparently decided, along with the rest of me, to take a nap. Now all the little drones inside me are squawking, "Hey, who turned out the lights?" No wonder the fats cells are gaining ground. Their natural enemies are either asleep or can't find them in the pitch black. And no wonder the water is being retained. Hey, it can't find its way out without the runway lights. The sleepiness… ah, but of course. When everything that matters thinks it's dark, we sleep. And the heart palpitations… yeah, it's obviously scared of the dark. The hot/cold disregulation.. .well, have you ever tried to adjust the thermostat in total darkness?

Can you imagine what the surgeon who, I'm sure someday will have to open me up for something, will find? Some little spleen-or-other hawking stockpiles of little T-shirts that state, "I survived the great TSH Blackout of Ought-Six!" I wonder if the surgeon and all the nurses will buy one for its obvious collector's value? I could become a rich woman!

Gosh, and just when you think your body is going to start letting you down!

The Real Stuffed Turkey: Who Knew? (November 2005)

2006-02-24T15:59:00.000-05:00

In the same day's newspaper as the annual "how to stuff your turkey" recipes, I discovered another stuffed turkey--in the guise of a stuffed shirt. (What they won't do to avoid the ax this time of year!)

Allow me to quote directly from our newspaper's public (dis??) service column, The Vent, wherein, as the name implies, regular citizens can phone or email in their gripes for publication. This one made my eyes roll. And since my eyes continued to roll about this vent all day, I had to address it or bust.

"Is it me, or do you get annoyed when you are in a retail store and the sales associate tells you, "have a good one?" Have a good what? Their language tells me that they possess little or no command of the English language as taught in school. The person to blame is the management of these retail stores who allow their associates to speak like this. Once the management corrects the problem I would like to hear "thank you for your business," not the above statement nor "have a nice day." I guess some people need to be reminded where their livelihood comes from."

[Venter's name appears in The Vent but I have removed it here]

Uh, since we're being fussy, that would be the rather awkward sounding but grammatically perfect, "from where their livelihood comes", Sir Language Cop. Come on. I mean, like, you know (I just did that to further annoy the Language Cop), English is a fluid language that adapts to its environment and the times; it welcomes enrichment from people for whom English is a second language. It changes! It's interesting! That's the beauty of it!

And besides an appalling lack of appreciation of the English language, there's that little Grinchy (how dare Dr. Seuss introduce a new word; how absurd, that silly word!) attitude. A retail associate sent you on your way with a pleasant, if not professionally correct, farewell, in perfectly implied English (meaning, one is expected to understand that "have a good one" is the equivalent of the ubiquitous "have a good day"). For that courteous acknowledgement of your humanity, as opposed to those associates who barely acknowledge a customer's existence, you wish to stomp away and never grace the premises again (one can assume that you believe that you, as a metaphor for all customers, provide their livelihood, and since you are displeased with their service, you prefer not to provide that livelihood, which involves stepping into the store. Yes?).

Lucky them!

So my answer to you, Señor Grump (ooh, bad me, I threw in a non-English word) is, "Yes, it's you." I do not "get" (more properly stated as "become") annoyed. I smile, thank them for their courteous service, and tell them they should have a good "one", too.

So, Mr. Venter, go suck canal water. That suit ya better?

One Million Per Inch

2005-02-24T21:48:00.000-05:00

So, snow is expensive these days. According to a report on KYW news radio, New Jersey spends about one million dollars per inch of snowfall to clear the roads. One million. Per inch. I heard this report as I drove over roads still white with our latest snowfall, about which we were all appropriately overreacting, glued to television sets in case the snow stopped falling and we, God forbid, wouldn't know!

As I drove I was thinking how peaceful and relaxing the world seems when the roads are still white, and the tires swoosh and crunch in a way peculiar to, well, tires on snow.

And then I heard that news report. And immediately visualized monster snowplows leaving jagged mountain ranges (whoops, left your car on the side of the road? See you in Spring...) of filthy, salt-encrusted snow that you wouldn't want your kid to play on much less eat (because, besides the traffic hazard, who knows where the yellow snow is under all that mess?) and windows sprayed with gray stuff everytime a vehicle drives by (then your windshield washer fluid runs out just as darkness falls and you're still twenty minutes from your destination)... UGH.

Would the world really stop turning if we simply let snow be snow?

One million per inch.

Did I just answer my own question?