Weekly Smile 7/29/19

I love taking part in Trent’s Weekly Smile, but for the past couple weeks I’ve been bogged down finishing up this term’s writing class and preparing for a ministry meeting at a local Civic Center. But this week, I’m starting to wind down from those two event — both of which made me smile — so I have a little extra time.

COFFEE JOURNAL COVER FRONT ONLYHowever, my post is not about those two things. It’s about another smile maker. My brand new DAILY GRIND COFFEE LOVERS JOURNAL. It’s just out and, I’m grinning from ear to ear about it — partly because it’s now available for purchase — and partly because I just can’t keep from smiling when I look at all those delicious coffee photos and think about how those captions popped into my mind for each one — and partly because I’m enjoying doing my own journaling in my personal copy of the book.

Now, I know this sounds like an advertisement, but truly it is the thing that caused my biggest smile this week — and last week.  I’m having a great time running around delivering copies of the journal to other coffee lovers who want one for themselves or to give as a gift. And to be perfectly honest, I’ll probably be smiling pretty big over this event for the next week or two as well.

Not only that, but I’m working on the next journal, which has a writing theme and should be out next month. That project is putting a smile on my face as well. Of course, it’s also causing me some hours of serious thought and a tiny bit of aggravation, but after all — as we all know — that’s part of the program when you’re creating a book.

Hope you all have a lot to smile about this coming week as well.

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Weekend Coffee Share – 4/7/19

COFFEE - YELLOW SMILEY -- Hans PX

photo courtesy of Hans @ pixabay.com

I’ve missed taking part in the weekend coffee shares, but my schedule just didn’t leave me much time for posting. If we were having coffee on this Sunday evening, I’d tell you that this weekend has been a wild ride. But I did manage to get two important things done.

The most important was planning and officiating at a funeral for a cousin. I’ve officiated at many funerals, but this one presented a particular challenge. Many members of the family (not the ones I’m close to, thank the Lord) have been having disagreements and considerable strife about a number of things. There are so many factions who are angry with one of the other factions that one other family member who traveled with me to the service said she was concerned that after we left there might be an actual fight break out.

You can imagine what it was like to try to plan and carry out the service, when so many of the people don’t want to speak to or cooperate with others, and when almost anything you say could possibly inflame touchy feelings even more.  One woman, who stood like a stone right in my line of vision through the whole service, had such a look of hatred on her face the whole time that I was amazed she could even maintain the look and stance for such a long period. She came to the service, but did not speak to any of her brothers or sisters.

Whew!  I lived through it, and I’m trusting the Lord that some of the things I shared will actually help bring some healing to those poor troubled people.  But I’m very glad it’s over.  I cannot understand a person allowing another person’s bad treatment of him to cause that first person to become so angry and bitter that it makes him physically sick. Why hold onto bitterness and resentment?  It certainly doesn’t hurt the person one is bitter against. It hurts only the one who feels and feeds that bitterness and hatred.

But, as I said, it’s over now, and I at least did what I was supposed to do to try to help.

The other accomplishment was a new video in my “Audio Short Stories” series. I managed to get that done late Saturday night, so I’m inserting it into this post so that — just in case you’re a person who enjoys sitting back and listening to a story rather than having to read it for yourself — you can listen to it right here.

I hope all the rest of you had relaxing weekends. I’m planning on my next weekend being more quiet and laid-back. Maybe I can get some painting done. Goodness knows I need to de-stress.  🙂

Oh, I almost forgot! Another happy thing happened on Saturday: a good friend came by with a gift for me. It was a lovely, fancy white cup and saucer with a silver fleur de lis design on it. It came complete with a little silver spoon — and a huge truffle inside to go with the coffee I was undoubtedly going to have in that cup. It was such a delightful surprise and a welcome positive addition to my troubled weekend.

Here’s the story I promised.  Kick back, prop your feet up, sip your coffee, and enjoy.

 

 

To participate in Weekend Coffee Share, visit Eclectic Ali for the details.

 

 


 

Weekend Coffee Share 3/3/19

COFFEE PLOPPING -- AnnieSplatt -- PX

If we were sharing a cup of coffee today, I’d tell, first of all, that the only reason I’m able to share this morning is because it is snowing too hard for me to get to church. I go to a church that is about 30 miles from my house, and right now the visibility is way too low to make a trip like that — especially with the roads rapidly being covered with snow and the temperatures dropping. I did go out and clean off my car (from the earlier morning snow), thinking it would let up, and I could go, but that didn’t work out at all.

Anyway, there’s not a whole lot to tell you about this week. I taught my “Writing Fiction” and my “Biblical Pathways to Health & Wholeness” classes.  The students seem to be enjoying both classes, so that’s always a good thing.

Actually, I did have one student who complained a couple weeks ago because the Writing Fiction class didn’t give him “what he wanted.” He had taken that class from me a few terms ago, and complained then as well. He seems to think that since he wrote non–fiction for years that a lot of the writing basics we cover are way too elementary for him. The course description made it clear what we would cover, but that didn’t seem to register with him. Not only that, but a good deal of the things we’re covering are things he is not nearly as proficient in as he seems to think — as evidenced by the work he turned in for the assignments.

The first time he took the class he decided to drop it after about 4 weeks. Then when we offered it again this term, he suddenly e-mailed me to see if this class would offer something he could use. I told him clearly that I would be covering the same things I covered in the class he had dropped, which includes all the basic skills needed to write good fiction: developing good strong plots, developing believable characters and learning how to introduce them into the story in interesting ways, learning to use dialogue and body language well, learning how to develop and present setting, learning how to edit, and learning how to choose the best publishing options (along with several other helpful tips). Now, I ask you: what more could a student want from a Writing Fiction class???

But I suggested to him that since I would be covering all those same things, and he didn’t find them helpful a few terms earlier, I didn’t think he’d be interested in this class. But he enrolled anyway. He came to class long enough to be an aggravation and then dropped the class again. It turns out that what he’s looking for is some kind of writing theory and philosophy — whatever that is — and for what purpose, I can’t begin to figure out.

I told him that, in my opinion, teaching theory and philosophy did absolutely no good for the students who want to learn to write good stories that will entertain people and sell books. Theory and philosophy don’t help you plot a good story or create engaging, true-to-life characters, or help you jump through all the right hoops to get those stories published.  I can honestly say I’m relieved he dropped the class. I hope he finds what he’s looking for.

Well, it looks as though I’ve taken our coffee time to vent. Hope you don’t mind. And, guess what: it has almost stopped snowing!  Yay!  I think I’m going to get a fresh cup of coffee and a cookie to celebrate.

Hope you have a great week. And if you’ve never taken part in the “Weekend Coffee Share,” visit Eclectic Ali , check out the easy instructions, and share about your week.

 

 


 

New Writing Challenge: Write a Story Using Nothing But Dialogue

Okey-dokey, folks, it’s time for a fresh writing challenge. I’ve been doing this exercise with some of my creative writing students to help them get a better grip on using dialogue creatively and successfully in their stories. It’s a challenge for sure, but it’s lots of fun.

So here’s the only rule. Write a short story (anywhere between 100 and 500 words) using nothing but dialogue. No introduction, no tag lines to identify speakers, no narration of any kind.

Two Helpful Hints:
1. Since you can’t use tag words to identify speakers, you’ll be restricted to only two characters so that the reader can follow the dialogue easily.
2. You’ll need to make sure your dialogue reveals the identity of the characters because you can’t narrate their identity or description to your readers.

Just post your story on your own site and hop over here and put the link into the “Comments” section for this post.

No time limit: This challenge is open-ended. Anytime you read this post and want to try your hand at a dialogue story, go for it.  Do more than one if you like. And don’t forget to come back here and leave your link.

My own story is below:

GIRL DRAWING HEART ON WALL - cropped -- SFerrario - PX

FAMILY PICTURE

“Mandy, what on earth have you done to the wall?”
“I’m drawing a merle, Mommy.”
“A what?”
“A merle. You know, a picture that covers the whole wall.”
“Oh, you mean a mural.”
“Right, and this is a picture of our whole family.”
Our family?”
“Yes. See this really big person is God, because our Sunday School teacher said that all families come from God.”
“I see. And, yes, Mrs. Osgood is right.”
“And then here’s Daddy and you and me and Francis and Baby Daniel.”
“Well, I understand God and Daddy and me and you and Francis, but who on earth is Baby Daniel?”
“My little brother.”
“But, Mandy, you don’t have a little brother.”
“Not yet, but he’s coming. God told me today.”
“Ooooooh ….”

`

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Once Upon A Time: A Story In Any Language

More than three years ago, I did a post discussing how so many of our stories have characteristics and qualities that are both generic and universal. That fact is so true that we’ve even cultivated phrasing and syntax patterns that fit specific themes and plots.  The whole concept is fascinating to me. (Naturally it would be, considering that I’m not only a writer, but also a creative writing teacher.) 

So I decided to experiment a little with writing a story using nonsense terms instead of normal nouns and verbs. — to demonstrate the fact that any avid reader would be able to understand the story with very little trouble. The reason readers will understand is that the pattern, plot, and emotional tone all fit a specific type of fiction. The experiment was fun, and I often use it in my writing classes as an example to my students that many times it isn’t just choosing the right word that matters. It’s also how we put those words together that makes the whole piece a good story.

I decided to share the experiment again on this site. Hope you enjoy it.


DRAGON - PUB DOM TOTALLY -- Friedrich-Johann-Justin-Bertuch_Mythical-Creature-Dragon - TALL

Public Domain — Artist: Friedrich-Johann-Justin-Bertuch 

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THE BONDO DELAFOR

The young delafor wandered through the cogem, wishing he could find a delafora to be his rhuba. He’d heard the fonders tell of bondo delafors who had won the hands of delaforas by zonering the terrible goganbulls. He knew the goganbulls were threatening the cogem, and many delafors were terrizon of them. He didn’t know if he were bondo enough to zoner a goganbull or not, but he hoped he’d have a chance.

One day the great kinba of the cogem announced that a goganbull had been spotted just outside the cogem. The great kinba porsayed that he would give the most beautiful delafora to the delafor who zonered that goganbull.

So the young delafor raced to his stetsa, hopped on, and took off to find the goganbull and zoner it. When he found the goganbull, it was maxma!  It was so maxma that the young delafor’s stetsa reared up, threw the delafor off, and ran away. Now the only thing the delafor had was his pontier. So he looked the goganbull in the eye, stood up straight and tall and shumed toward him. Keeping eye contact, he shumed all the way to within two feet of him. The goganbull gloamed and hot smeltz came from his buzzle.

But the young delafor rememberd the beautiful delafora who was porsayed by the great kinba. The delafor wanted that delafora for his rhuba very badly. So he aimed his pontier and shumed the last two feet toward the goganbull; then he flumed his pontier right into the goganbulls corva. With one horrible gloam, the goganbull fell over, and black smoke roold from his buzzle. Then all was quiet.

The young delafor took his pontier and whapped off the goganbull’s henda and carried it back to the great kinba. That day the young delafor won the most beautiful delafora in the cogem to be his very own rhuba. And they both lived schnookumy ever after.

TE  FUND

 

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Weekend Coffee Share – 7/7/18

COFFEE MAN WITH FLOWERS - resized

If we were having coffee today, I’d most likely tell you about my creative writing class that got underway last week at the local college. It definitely got off to a robust beginning and then continued to make records for the most unusual writing class I’ve ever taught.

The first class met June 28, and about half-way through the class, the students’ phones began going off with a weather warning signal. The report said a tornado was headed our way and we needed to “take cover now!”  Since it was the first class of that term, and my classes last year had not been in that particular building, I did not remember exactly where the “safe” rooms were, so I had to hunt for the building map. I found it in the tray of the whiteboard, and immediately located the closest “safe” room for students to move to. My students weren’t actually frightened or panicked, but since one whole wall of our classroom is glass, they did want to get out of that room.

Well, when I tried to open the door to the “safe” room, it was locked. So I told the students I’d check the alternate rooms listed on the map, but then, suddenly — as if out of nowhere — one of the main custodians appeared with a key. However, as he opened the room, he also told me that a different room on the other end of the hall was actually safer, so I directed my students there instead. One woman’s husband was sitting in a lounge area reading while he waited for her.  So the custodian went to get him and have him join us in the “safe” room.  I was praying, of course, but I did feel responsible for making sure my students were as safe as possible.

Before we got to the safe room, some of the students stopped to look out one of the windows. It was pretty black outside — even though it’s normally still quite light at that time — and as they were looking, suddenly the wind took down a tree. We learned that another tree on the campus was also uprooted as well, but we didn’t see that one.

With class interrupted, we just sort of sat and conversed about other topics for a while, and two students kept tabs on the weather updates. One of them read a report that a local Kroger store had taken all their customers into their meat locker for safety. One of the students commented that if her daughter had been in that position, it would have been like a nightmare because the daughter is a vegetarian.

Everyone was pretty upbeat during the waiting time, and after a while, they decided they’d like to go ahead and continue the lesson. So I went back down to our original room and got all my teaching material so we could have the lesson while we waited. There was no whiteboard, but I was able to give them some of the material without it. When the warning time had expired,  with our building still in one piece, we packed up our stuff and moved back down to our regular room and continued our class, no worse for the wear.

One of the students had ridden a motorcycle to the class. So he had about a 20-mile ride home in the rain after we let out. But the winds had died down, and the warnings had expired at least. He had come prepared, though. He had brought along a rain suit, so I guess he’s been caught in that kind of situation before. He made it home okay and was in good shape to come back this week.

Now, to this week’s chapter: When I got to the classroom Thursday, two of my students were standing outside the building — in 100-degree heat. As I stepped from my car, I yelled to them and asked if the door was locked. They said it was. So I got back into my car and drove over to the security and maintenance building. I couldn’t get anyone to answer my pounding on the door at the security office. I couldn’t get into the maintenance office, and I even stopped at a shop area where they were welding to ask for assistance. They just sent me back to the security office, but that second time, an officer FINALLY came to the door.

Evidently, because our class was meeting the day after the 4th of July, we were one of only a few classes that were meeting that day. I guess several of the others had dismissed for the rest of the week, and the officer said his list of buildings that were supposed to be open for classes did not include the one we were trying to get into. However, he drove over and opened the building for us. It was a little strange to be the only class meeting in that great big building, but at least all was quiet weather-wise, and we had no interruptions.

All in all, I’d say this term’s writing class has been less that boring. And if nothing else, maybe it will give students something to write about. However, I do hope next week is TOTALLY ordinary.

Have a great week, everyone!


Thanks to Eclectic Ali for hosting our weekend coffee share.

 

 

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Share Your World 7/2/18

I haven’t taken time in the last couple months to “share my world.” So this week I thought I’d make an attempt to do so. (You can share yours too if you visit Cee’s blog where she gives the details of taking part.) Here are her questions for this week.

Question # 1: Tell us about your first bicycle or car. 

Well, I never owned a bicycle. I did learn to ride one — using my cousins’ or neighbors’ bikes, but bicycling was never one of my favorite activities. I do drive a car, although that activity is not one of my favorites either. I’m not one of those people who enjoys “going for a drive.” I simply get into the car to get from one place to another more easily and comfortably than I can get there by walking. Of course, with my air conditioner on the blitz in my current car, that isn’t too comfortable.

But I’m digressing. I’m supposed to tell you about my very first car. It was a Honda — pale yellow with gray interior. I loved it. It was used, and cost me a whole $700.00, but that was way back in time — more than 40 years ago. I vividly remember my test drive. My dad went along to give me his opinion of its virtues and problems. The car was in good shape and I drove it about three years before trading it in for a newer and slightly bigger car. I’ve owned 9 different cars since then, but I’ll always remember that little Honda with love and affection.

REDBIRD CHRISTMASQuestion # 2: What fictional world or place would you like to visit?

I’d like the opportunity to visit — or maybe live in —  a place called Lost River, Alabama. Now, in general, I don’t like Alabama. And, in general, I’m not a fan of Fannie Flagg’s novels. However, Ms.Flagg did write one novel that is an absolute delight to read — in fact I read it about once a year — and it is set in the peaceful, friendly, life-affirming community settled on the banks of a clear, quiet river known as Lost River, Alabama.

Even the mail is delivered by river in this little community. Everyone living there knows everyone else — and cares about everyone else. The weather is not too cold or too hot. The flowers, birds, and other natural wildlife are pleasant company. And the whole attitude and atmosphere is one of optimism.

I keep intending to write a review of this book for my blog, but, somehow, time just keeps getting away from me. But in case I’ve whetted your appetite for a visit to Lost River, I’ll tell you that the title of the book is A Redbird Christmas. And if you enjoy reading about second chances and happy endings, you’ll love it.

Question # 3: If you could have someone follow you around all the time — like a personal assistant — what would you have them do?

I’d have them stop following me around.

 

Question # 4: What did you appreciate, or what made you smile this past week.

Three things made me smile this past week. One was my hairdresser, Scott Brown. Scott is one of the most pleasant, courteous people I know personally. He really cares about people. He chooses exactly what is right for my hair every time a decision has to be made about it, and he genuinely enjoys making people feel good about themselves. When I’m in the mood to change my style and I’m being super picky — which I almost always am — you know — I want this cut, but I want the back a little different — and I want the top a little different — and I want more of this and less of that — he takes it all in stride, gives me what will actually work, and tells me honestly when something is out of the question. I really like this guy.

The second thing that made me smile was some videos of the old Mary Tyler Moore Show from the 1970’s. That was a time of several important decisions and events in my life, and that whole decade has a very strong place in my memory — in mostly happy ways. One of my favorite memories is watching that show every week. This week, as a way of relaxing, I watched several hours of those old re-runs, and I was amazed at how much I laughed out loud at some of them. It was a fun experience.

The third thing that made me smile was getting back into the book I wrote for my great-nieces and nephews about 4 years go. I wrote the original story just for them, using all four of them as the main characters of the book: Taming The Dragon of Calvert Kingdom. I’m getting ready to let the book go into the marketplace now, and as I re-read it and remembered how thrilled they were to have a whole book written about them, it made me happy. I hope it make them as happy when the book is published for the rest of the world to read.

 

 


 

Weekend Coffee Share 6/24/18

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Hi, Everyone.
If we were having coffee together today, I’d probably tell you that it’s been a  pretty busy and a very stressful week. I did manage to get several things done that needed doing, so I feel good about that. Today was a super busy day with church work. I preached at this morning’s service, and after the evening meeting, a few of us counseled with a young man who has had very serious problems with addictions and all of the attending horrors that go along with that lifestyle. But he gave his heart to the Lord tonight, and I expect he’ll see a great difference in his life from this point on.

This week has been my last week to prepare for my two creative writing classes coming up this term at John A Logan College. I’ll be teaching a writing fiction class and a writing non-fiction class. We always have more people sign up for the writing fiction classes, but I enjoy teaching both equally well. I think a lot of people just don’t have any idea how much fun and creativity is involved in writing non-fiction — or how wide and vast the arenas are for that kind of writing. I wish more people could get excited about it.

I also received a surprise gift of See’s Chocolates this week. Wow. That’s some of my favorite candy, and boy did I need it — with the stress and all.  After all, chocolate is the best antidote in the world for stress. And, of course, when you add a great cup of coffee with the chocolate, I am immediately transported to my “happy place.”

I did, however, do one other thing to relieve some of the stress. I often pick up a good book — one that doesn’t require me to get too involved emotionally — to destress, but this week I was in the mood for some old classic science fiction movies. You know the ones I mean — those that came out in the 1950’s and 60’s. They’re the ones that look so artificial now — after all of our real-life space travel and the high-level technology in movie making these days. But there’s something about the artificiality of those old films that re-captures my imagination. Most of them are fairly predictable, of course, but for me that’s part of their charm. I did get onto the edge of my seat once or twice while watching a few of them, but for the most part, they just did a good job of getting my mind off everything else and taking me away from troublesome ‘real life.’

That’s about it for my week. Hope you all enjoyed the coffee and that you have a great week coming up.

 


Thanks to Eclectic Ali for hosting the Weekend Coffee Share.

 

 

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Weekend Coffee Share — 6/16/18

Thanks to Eclectic Ali for hosting the weekend coffee shares.

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I’m so glad I have some time to share coffee with you guys this week — because I am really excited to share with you about my newest venture. I have recently created a brand new poetic form. At least, I think I have. With all the searching I’ve done, I’m fairly certain no other poets have this form out there. I’m excited, not only because I loved the challenge of creating a unique form, but also because there is only one poetic form that is generally recognized as being ‘American’ by the poetry world. So this new form that I’ve created — being American myself — will be the second.

And to make it even more truly American, I borrowed from my own Cherokee culture to give the form a name. I’ve called it Tso’i. That word is pronounced “cho-ee,” and it is the Cherokee word for the number ‘three,’ and I chose it because the syllable count for the 5 lines of the poem are in multiples of three. I’ve posted about the form — along with examples of poems that follow it — in more than one post on my author’s site and my poetry site. So I don’t want to be too repetitious here. But I know there are a few people who read the “Coffee Share” posts who don’t read my others.

That being the case, I want to tell you the details of my new form so that any of you out there who enjoy writing poetry can try it if you’d like. So here’s the scoop:

A Tso’i poem must meet the following guidelines:

It must have 5 lines
Lines 1, 3, and 5 must have end rhyme.

Syllables:
Line 1 has 3 syllables.
Line 2 has 6 syllables.
Line 3 has 12 syllables.
Line 4 has 6 syllables.
Line 5 has 3 syllables.

Lines 1 and 5 follow a dactyl meter.
Lines 2, 3, and 4 follow an iambic meter.

Subject matter and theme are open to the poet’s imagination and preference.

Here’s one example from my own work:

PARAMOUNT KNOWLEDGE

Knowing God:
Oh, what a wondrous thing
To comprehend such pure love; I’m completely awed,
Learning I am priceless
To my God.


If any of you poets out there would like to try this form yourself, please do and leave a copy of it — or a link to it — in the “Comments” section below.  And have a great weekend!

 

 

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Tso’i: New American Poetic Form

QUIL PEN AND INK -- LunarSeaArt -- PXWell, I think it’s time to name my new poetic form. I thought about a few possibilities, but since one of the predominant — and most noticeable — aspects of this new form is that the syllable count for the five lines of verse is calculated in multiples of three, that number seemed a good choice to focus on for the name. Also, wanting this form to stand out as a truly ‘American’ creation, it seemed like a fun idea to look to my Cherokee heritage for the proper word. After all, how much more ‘American’ can we get than one of the original tribes of people who inhabited this continent long before any white men set foot on it?

So, borrowing the word for ‘three’ from my Cherokee culture, I am christening this new poetic form with the following name:
Tso’i — pronounced “cho-ee”

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And now for one more example of Tso’i. Just a little something relating to this task of choosing a name.

CHOOSING A NAME

Giving birth
To a new form of verse
Requires a unique name to convey unique worth:
One kind to themes of hope,
Love, and mirth.


I’d also like to extend the invitation again to all my readers: If you’d like to try your hand at writing a poem in this form, please come back here and share it — or the link to it — in the “Comments” section below.

Here are the particulars once more:

The form has 5 lines.
Lines 1, 3, and 5 must have end rhyme.

Line 1 has 3 syllables.
Line 2 has 6 syllables.
Line 3 has 12 syllables
Line 4 has 6 syllables
Line 5 has 3 syllables

Lines 1 and 5 use dactyl meter.
Lines 2, 3, and 4 use iambic meter.

Subject matter and theme are open to the poet’s imagination and preference.


I still find Tso’i a little difficult, even though I created it, but it’s been worth the challenge.    It’s definitely worth a try if you love writing poetry.   So, come on: try it and have some fun with me.


You’ll find more examples of Tso’i in these Related Posts:
Introduction of the Form
Second Demonstration of the Form


photo: LunarSeaArt @ pixabay.com

 

 

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Experiment # 2 in New Poetic Form

I’ve composed a second poem in my new form — as yet un-named. I’ve searched to find any indication that this form has been used by any other poets, but I know I haven’t unearthed all the information. So, as I mentioned in my original post when I introduced this form, if anyone out there knows of it’s being used previously, please let me know in the comments below. Once I’m convinced it truly is a new form, I’ll need to give it a name. So if you have suggestions for that as well, let me know.

Just to review, the form is as follows:

5 Lines.
The first, third, and fifth lines have to rhyme.

Line 1 has 3 syllables
Line 2 has 6 syllables
Line 3 has 12 syllables
Line 4 has 6 syllables
Line 5 has 3 syllables

Meter for lines 1 and 5 is dactyl.
Meter for lines 2, 3, 4 is iambic.

I’m still finding this form pretty difficult, but I like a challenge once in a while. If you want to try it and write your own poem in this form, please share it in the comments section or by a link to your own blog.

Here’s this newest effort:

HEALING HAND - DARK SEPIA - FEATHERED

PARAMOUNT KNOWLEDGE

Knowing God:
Oh, what a wondrous thing
To comprehend such pure love; I’m completely awed,
Learning I am priceless
To my God.

 

 


 

New Poetic Form???

QUILL & BOOK - SEPIAI’ve been experimenting with some unusual, new (I think) poetic forms. The following form is one of my experiments, and I haven’t found any indication that the form has been used previously by any other poets. If readers are aware of this exact form already in use somewhere — anywhere in the world — I’d appreciate your letting me know. This particular form is difficult for me, but I’m working with it as a way of stretching myself and forcing myself out of a too-comfortable rut.

Here are the details of the form:
The poem must consist of 5 lines with the following syllable count:
Line 1 — 3 syllables
Line 2 — 6 syllables
Line 3 — 12 syllables
Line 4 — 6 syllables
Line 5 — 3 syllables

Meter in lines 1 and 5 is dactyl. But meter in lines 2-4 is iambic.
Rhyme scheme:  Lines 1, 3, and 5 must rhyme.

Following is one example of a poem using this pattern.

TAKING A SNOOZE

Lullabies
Encourage babies’ sleep.
But often as I sing I also close my eyes,
And sleep myself until
Baby cries.

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If you’ve come across this pattern previously, let me know.  Or if you’d like to try it yourself, leave your own poem in the “Comments” section below — or leave a link to your own site with your poem in a post.

 


Also posted this on my ‘Ahyoka’ site.

 

 

~~~

A Little Bit More of My Shameless Marketing

PROFESSOR'S EDUCATION FOR AMAZON FRONT ONLY - 2Just wanted to let readers know that the inspirational novel The Professor’s Education is now selling on Amazon in paperback and digital. Many of you read the novel free right here on this site a few months ago. And many of you expressed your enjoyment of it as well. Thank you again.

Now, here’s my pitch. If you did read it for free here and enjoyed it, how about purchasing a copy for a friend or loved one who enjoys inspirational romance?

Paperback: $7.99
Digital: $2.99

And, by the way, did you know that a lot of men enjoy inspirational romance novels? It isn’t just us gals. I’ve had a number of gentlemen tell me how much they appreciate reading a good Christian love story.  Sooooo, girls, why not buy one for your boyfriend or hubby?

And thanks in advance.

 

 


 

EXCERPT: Chapter Three of ‘Set Free To Love’

This post is a continuation of “Still In Love with Maddison Holt after All These Years.” I included Chapter One of the novel in that post and promised two more. Here’s the final installment:

SET FREE AMAZON FRONT COVERCHAPTER THREE

Exhausted beyond words, Maddison pulled up to the farmhouse, dragged his suitcase out of the trunk and himself up the steps. Since the lights were out except for the one over the stove in the kitchen, he knew he’d need to use his own key.

As he stepped into the kitchen, warm, familiar, homey smells surrounded him and soothed him. In the dim light, his eyes automatically sought and rested on the oversized wooden table that stood right in the middle of the big room, and on all of the white metal and enameled cabinets and appliances that flanked the two walls opposite the door. The stove and sink were modern enough to be convenient, but the cabinets had seen at least two generations of living in this house.

The sight of them, along with the hardwood floor, polished to a shine and scattered with colorful rugs, the dried flowers hanging beside the old wooden coat rack to his right, Uncle Matt’s worn Bible open on one end of the table where he’d had his bedtime snack … they all welcomed him and comforted him.

He crossed over to the table, seeing that there was a note propped against the napkin holder. He picked it up and switched on the ceiling light to see it better. It read:

“Dear Maddison,

Since you said you didn’t have any idea what time you’d be here, I didn’t wait up. I figured if you forgot your key,    you could pound on the door loud enough to wake me. Just come on in and get comfortable. Your room’s ready, and there’s loads of stuff to eat in the kitchen. Just sleep until you wake up in the morning. We’ll have plenty of time to talk after that. I love you, Maddison, and I’m sure glad you’re going to be here with me for a while.

Uncle Matt.”

Maddison grinned and spoke out loud: “Sleep until I wake up. If I do that, Uncle Matt, it may be two whole days before you see me.” He tucked the note into his shirt pocket, picked up his suitcase, turned out the lights, and headed upstairs to the room that was always reserved for him. Just before sleep claimed him, his mind recalled Beth’s engaging face, surrounded by tousled honey-colored curls, her deep golden eyes full of compassion as he’d told her about his brother. And with that unbidden image came an unexpected, quiet comfort that wrapped around his heart and led him to the first peaceful rest he’d had in weeks.

Not too many miles away, Beth was saying “Goodnight” to her mom and brother. They had talked over the plan Maddison had laid out. Adele, naturally wanted Lex to help her understand what had brought him to this place, but all he did was take her hand in his and say, “I’m just too tired to talk any more tonight, Mom.” She knew better than to press right now, so she just hugged him and told him to sleep well.

Just before he left the room, though, another thought struck her, and she asked, “But, Lex, what about the gun?”

“Mr. Holt took it. He said he had a way of getting it turned over to the police without getting me into more trouble.” He grinned and shook his head. “I just bet he can do it too.”

Adele had finally agreed to turn in after Beth promised to do so herself once she’d had a cup of tea. So Beth finally found herself alone in the quiet living room, snuggled into a corner of the sofa, sipping tea, and trying to gather and settle her erratic thoughts.

Surprisingly, it wasn’t tonight’s events that her mind kept returning to. It was last year … her engagement to Derek … and all that had happened since her mother had become ill. She had thought she knew Derek well enough to want to spend the rest of her life with him. They had dated regularly for about a year before becoming engaged.

True, he was selfish at times, but then most all of the men she knew were that way. Her father hadn’t been, but then that was another generation. The world was different now, so people were different. Besides, she couldn’t keep waiting all her life for some “Prince Charming” like she’d read about in all those romance novels she used to turn to during school years as a respite from studying.

Still, the force of Derek’s objections had come as a complete surprise. Their discussions replayed in her mind now, as they had several times this past ten months. “Don’t be ridiculous!” Derek had said. “You can’t honestly be considering messing up our plans and turning yourself into a nursemaid for months! I’m due for this promotion in two months, and we need to get the wedding out of the way, so you can make the move to Maryland with me.”

“But, Derek, to consign my mother to a nursing home, with a visit from me only once a month isn’t right. And you’re wrong about Lex. He won’t do just as well staying with our eighty-year-old aunt until he finishes school.”

“I thought you loved me,” he’d said, a wounded expression on his face.

“It isn’t a question of whether I love you. I love my mother too. She never failed to be there for me, to nurse me and love me through everything .… In fact, she was always there for all of us, never holding herself back. How could it be fair, the way she’s suffering already, for me to relegate her to some strange place, surrounded by strange people, when I’m strong and healthy enough to take care of her?”

“But that’s what those places are for.”

“Derek, I’ve always tried to live by what I see in God’s Word. You know that. I just don’t see anything in His Word that says it’s all right to shove our sick parents off into the hands of strangers when we have the ways and means to care for them.”

“You can’t expect every little decision you make to be covered in the Bible!” Derek had said.

“Actually, Derek, I think you can, at least to some extent. But that doesn’t matter. God’s Word does say to honor our parents. I know that obeying them comes to an end when we become adults, but honoring them is supposed to last their whole life, isn’t it? And I just can’t see that what you’re suggesting is a way of honoring my mother. I just can’t do it.”

It had been the same argument a number of times, and they had finally agreed to get some counseling from their pastor. He had tried to help Derek see that a few months, or even a year, of sacrifice for a loved one shouldn’t be considered as something destructive to the love between Derek and Beth. “If what you two have for each other is going to last a lifetime,” he’d said, “it’s going to have to withstand much greater stresses than this one over the intervening years.”

But Derek had remained adamant, and had even said some things to Beth that had been unnecessarily hurtful, so they had parted. He had maintained that she didn’t love him enough if she could make the choices she’d made, and after a while, Beth realized that probably she hadn’t, at least not enough to be the wife he wanted. Perhaps, after all, God had stepped in and shown her the truth before she made a bigger mistake, and both of them had ended up a few years from now broken-hearted by a marriage that never should have taken place at all.

The heartbreak she’d expected to feel had never materialized. She felt sad that their relationship had ended with bad feelings on Derek’s part, and for a short time, she had mourned not having the marriage she’d dreamed about for months. But she knew now that marriage to Derek wouldn’t have fulfilled that dream anyway.

She’d talked it over with the Lord several times the last few months, and she prayed again now as she had prayed those other times. “Dear Lord, I’m believing You to help Derek find the kind of woman he needs for a wife … one who sees things the way he does and who can appreciate him and his beliefs. … And maybe … maybe not … but just maybe, there’s a man out there who sees things the way I do.” She sighed. “I’ll admit it seems like a long shot, Lord, but if anybody can come up with a man like that, You can.”

Suddenly, in the midst of her prayer, she saw again a pair of black-lashed, searching gray eyes. Once again there was a sense of recognition. … Then the vision was gone, drifting away like all of her other thoughts and words, on a wave of exhaustion that finally forced her to her bed. Trying to understand any of it any better would have to wait for another day.


Purchase SET FREE TO LOVE

Paperback:  $7.75

Digital: $1.99

On sale this week only .

~~~

EXCERPT: Chapter Two of ‘Set Free To Love’

This post is a continuation of “Still In Love with Maddison Holt after All These Years.” I included Chapter One of the novel in that post and promised two more. Here’s the next installment:

SET FREE AMAZON FRONT COVERCHAPTER TWO

Beth Hanover was an attractive young woman, although she didn’t feel particularly attractive or young as she stood gripping the telephone receiver, trying to pull her thoughts together and settle the thudding in her heart. In fact, she hadn’t had much opportunity in the last ten months to bother about how she looked or felt most of the time.

But that didn’t change the facts. Her clear, healthy complexion and the thick, honey blond hair that covered her head in soft, loose curls that barely touched the collar of her blouse gave their own evidence. Her eyes had been described more than once as looking like melted gold, and most of the time there was a twinkle in them, due to the fact that Beth kept her fellowship with the Lord as the most important part of her life. That fellowship made her able to deal with hard things that came her way without losing her joy.

Ten months ago, when her mother had had to have major surgery and long convalescent care, and was facing the possibility of an early death, Beth’s world had become a little shaky. Then when she had told her fiancé that she felt it necessary to postpone their wedding while she nursed her mother and helped her fight for her life, Derek had become so angry that he’d given her an ultimatum that had shaken her world even harder.

But the Lord had intervened for Beth’s mother, in answer to much prayer, and Adele had succeeded in holding on to life. Then they continued to rejoice as God’s healing power had caused health and strength to flow back into her body until she was now almost completely well.

But their great joy in Adele’s recovery was marred by another shadow that hovered over them. Something had been happening with Lex that caused both of them great concern. They had prayed much about it, and were determined not to worry. “We’re just going to believe God will keep Lex safe and show us what to do,” Adele had said.

Nevertheless, their faith had been strained by the fact that Lex seemed so sullen and wanted to keep to himself, refusing to talk to them about almost anything these days. Now, this phone call from Mr. Walker was starting to pull a detailed picture out of that vague, heavy shadow that had been hovering.

Adele, hearing Beth’s side of the conversation, had come to stand beside her daughter, fear in her eyes. Beth closed her own eyes and took a deep breath to try to settle the pounding in her chest before she spoke. “No, Mr. Walker, I don’t believe that’s the solution either. Mother and I have been praying because we knew something was wrong, but we didn’t know what. We just know that God’s the only answer. Thank you for calling me instead of the police. I’ll be with you as fast as I can get down there.”

Abel returned to the back room, and Maddison scooted his chair over to let him in. “Beth’s on her way,” Abel said.   “Thank God it’s the time of night when we have almost no business, but just to be safe, I turned off our big sign out front and put a closed sign on the door. I left it unlocked, though, for Beth.” Looking at Lex, he added, “I’ll get the first-aid kit and clean up your face, Son.”

“Ah, just leave me alone!”

Abel ignored the gruff answer and stepped into the bathroom, returning immediately with the kit.

“Here, let me,” said Maddison, taking the kit from the hands of the tired man. He put on a pair of the disposable gloves, then soaked a piece of gauze with hydrogen peroxide and turned toward Lex. He grabbed the boy’s jaw and pulled his head up so he could get a good view. “This is going to hurt a little, but I guess if you’re big and tough enough to rob a store single-handedly at gun point, you can take it.”

His point hit home, and Lex tried to jerk away from Maddison’s hands. Maddison jerked him back into position and looked him in the eyes. “Listen, kid, idiots that pull this kind of stunt are a dime a dozen where I come from, and believe me, I’ve had more than my fill of them. So if you don’t want to hurt a whole lot more than you do right now, you hold still!”

He finished cleansing the scratches, two of which were still bleeding, and then proceeded to apply antibiotic and some bandaging. Just as he was finishing, they heard the screech of tires, followed by a slamming car door. By the time Maddison had closed the first aid kit and disposed of the gloves, Beth was standing in the doorway, her golden eyes large and wet with tears that she was holding back by sheer will. She was a little pale, and her face looked strained, but she had herself under control.

Maddison, who had expected the kind of hysterical outbursts he’d experienced from so many mothers and sisters in similar situations over the years, didn’t quite know what to make of this woman. He stared at her, studying her, wondering what to expect.

For the first few seconds, her eyes were centered on her brother. Suddenly, she glanced up at Maddison. As their eyes met and held for a moment, there was a spark of something between them … a sense of having found something unexpectedly … that was gone so quickly he thought perhaps he’d imagined it. Then just as quickly, she had turned to the manager and, reaching out both hands, laid hold of his arm, saying, “Mr. Walker, I’m so very sorry. I know you could have been injured or killed tonight. I can never tell you how grateful I am to you for giving Lex another chance.”

Patting her hand, Abel Walker replied, “You’ve given so much of yourself to your mother during this long illness … and to Lex. I just couldn’t see it end with him going to jail.” He turned to Maddison. “This gentleman … I’m sorry, I never even asked your name.”

“Maddison Holt,” Maddison said, returning his attention to the store manager.

Abel smiled at him warmly. “Mr. Holt, this is Beth Hanover, Lex’s sister.” Maddison and Beth nodded to each other, and Abel continued. “Mr. Holt was able to tackle Lex as he ran across the parking lot and get him back into the store. I’ve returned the money to the drawer, so we don’t have to worry about that, but that’s all we know right now.”

At that point, Beth turned back to Lex. She walked over to his chair and lifted his head up gently as she spoke. “Lex, look at me, dear. … Look at me,” she repeated, when he kept his eyes downcast. He finally looked up at her, and as his eyes met his sister’s, Maddison saw something soften in the boy’s face.

Beth squatted down so that they were on a level and began to talk again. “Lex, Mother and I have known for some time that you were troubled about something, and we’ve been praying. I don’t have any idea what’s brought on tonight’s action, but I know who’s at the root of it, and so do you in your heart. It’s Satan. And I know one other thing,” Beth continued, speaking calmly and quietly, but with absolute authority. “I know that whatever this is about, we are going to solve it together, just like we always have … you, Mom, me, and Jesus. We’re going to work through it and overcome it. You will not destroy your life or break our mother’s heart, and we’re going to get you back to where you were before this started!”

Again Maddison was amazed at her reaction. There was no hysterical crying or harsh questions or accusations. There was just a quiet determination and authority that made it obvious to him that this girl knew what she was talking about. Even in the midst of this hellish situation, this girl knew that they were going to win over this thing. She even had him believing it!

He envied the fact that, in spite of this horrible situation, she still believed. This woman has the kind of faith my parents have always had, he thought … the kind I thought I had. But she hasn’t lost her grip on hers the way I have.

Mr. Walker moved the second chair close so that Beth could be seated, and as she sat, she turned back to Lex, saying, “Now start at the beginning and tell me exactly what’s been happening. Tell us where you got the gun and who it belongs to, and don’t even try to leave anything out.”

For the next hour Lex told them how he’d begun to feel pressured to join one of the local gangs, how the robbery was part of his initiation, and how the gun wasn’t even loaded. A number of times Maddison groaned out loud at the stupidity of it all, but for the most part, he held himself in check. By 2:00 in the morning, however, he faced the inevitable. He didn’t know if it was the Christian, the cop, or the big brother in him that won out, but he finally admitted that he had to take the controlling hand in this boy’s situation.

The conversation had come to an end, and he felt as if he were on a stage, with the audience waiting for him to say his lines. “Okay,” he said, levering himself away from the old desk he’d been leaning on, “this is the way it’s coming down.” He looked at Lex. “It’s obvious you’re going to need a workable plan to keep you away from this gang and any other peers who are a bad influence. So we’re going to make one. How many hours are you in school through the week?”

“I don’t have to answer any of your questions! This is between me and Beth and Mr. Walker!”

“Lex!” Beth said. “Mr. Holt is trying to help us here!”

“Well, it’s none of his business!”

“Now that’s where you’re wrong, Lex.” Maddison said, looking the boy sternly in the eyes. “It’s very much my business. Keeping criminals off the street is my main business, and right now you fit the definition of the word criminal.”

Three pairs of stunned eyes looked at him, and Lex, who was the most shaken, asked, “Are you a cop?”

“I was a cop for ten years. Right now I’m a private investigator, but both jobs are all about putting criminals behind bars and keeping descent people safe.” As he spoke, he drew his identification from his pants’ pocket and handed it to Beth. While she looked at it, he continued talking to Lex. “Have you forgotten that I’m an eyewitness to your crime? I know the police officers in this area pretty well, and I guarantee you that if I take the facts of this case to them, they’ll have you behind bars in ten minutes tops. And by the time I testify in court, you’ll get a sentence that will keep you there a long time.

“If you don’t want that to happen … you’ll agree to whatever plan your sister and I work out, and you’ll stick with it. Now, I’ll ask you again … how many hours are you in school through the week?

“I get out at 2:00 in the afternoon, because I got put on the work program schedule so I could work here at the store.”

Maddison turned to Abel. “Any chance he could get his job back?”

“I could still use him from 4:00 to 9:00 three afternoons a week.”

Maddison nodded and then looked at Beth. “I assume you go to church regularly?” he asked, accepting his I.D. back and restoring it to his pocket.

“Oh, yes,” she answered. “We’re very active in our church. I came here to care for my mother, who was seriously ill, but now that she’s so much better, we’re both very involved in church again. And I work for the pastor in the office several hours a week, because his secretary just had a baby and needs more time off.”

Maddison nodded his head, obviously considering a number of thoughts at the same time. He sighed now, both from his own exhaustion, and from a sense of hurt on Beth’s behalf. She had obviously been loaded down with some serious problems with her mother’s health, and now she was trying to shoulder this responsibility too. He guessed that her father was deceased but felt that he needed to be sure before he could decide exactly how to proceed.

“Is your father deceased, Miss Hanover?”

“Yes, he went on to be with the Lord about five years ago. There’s just our mother now … and Lex and myself.”

“I see.” He sighed again. “Well, then, that being the case, while I don’t want to offend you by taking complete control, I do have the most experience in dealing with these situations, and I’m going to suggest the plan I think is best. If you see any major flaws in it from your perspective, you can say so.”

Beth nodded her head. “That sounds reasonable to me.”

“All right, young man,” he said, turning back to Lex. “You’ll go to school for all your classes. As soon as school is out, you’ll go straight home or come here to this back room, and you’ll do all your homework. If by some chance, you have no homework, you’ll study something else: your Bible, some book about a hobby you enjoy, or an encyclopedia if necessary … but you’ll spend the time from 2:00 to 4:00 studying something constructive.

“Three days a week you’ll work here from 4:00 to 9:00, and the other three workdays, I think the best thing to do is arrange for you to work at my uncle’s farm where I’ll be staying for the next month. That way I can keep an eye on you and help you stay out of trouble.”

He looked back to Beth now. “My uncle is Matthew Vickers, and his farm is just about five miles from here.”

At the mention of his uncle’s name, Beth’s eyes lit up, and Maddison noticed that Lex looked up with interest.

“Why, we know your uncle!” Beth exclaimed, a smile spreading across her face for the first time. “We all go to the same church.”

Maddison breathed another sigh, this time from relief. Maybe helping this family wouldn’t be such an uphill struggle after all. “Well, that makes things a little easier, then, doesn’t it?”

He turned his attention to Lex again. “Okay … every Sunday, you’ll go to church with your family and take part in whatever they feel is right. The rest of the day you’ll spend in their company or at home. Any free time you have you can spend with any friends who are welcome in your home, but they’ll come to your home to see you. You won’t go out and meet them anywhere else. You’ll stay on this plan for one month, and then we’ll see how things look.”

“But that’s practically like being in prison!”

Maddison walked over to stand in front of Lex, so close that he was almost touching him. When he spoke, his voice was a little husky, and his words were wrapped in a weariness that went beyond the physical. “Son, you don’t have an inkling of what being in prison is really like.” He sighed deeply. “And I hope with all my heart you never have to find out.”

“Lex,” Beth said now, laying her hand on his arm, “it does sound like a workable plan, and it’s what you need.” She looked up at Maddison again. “Did you say you’ll only be here a month?”

Maddison nodded. “I don’t normally stay that long, but I will this trip, and I’ll stay on top of things.” He looked back at Lex. “Now that’s the deal. Take it or leave it. I’m going out front and see if I can find myself some stale coffee while you think it over.”

“Oh, let me make you some fresh, Mr. Holt,” Abel offered, following him to the doorway.

“Don’t bother,” Maddison waved him back. “As tired as I am, I wouldn’t notice the difference. As long as it’s hot and caffeinated, it’ll keep me awake until I get where I’m going.”

He stuck his head around the door again a few seconds later, with a grin on his face. “By the way, I just remembered that I never did get any gas. I’m going out to fill up now.”

“You do that, Mr. Holt, and don’t you pay a penny. We owe you,” Abel said with a warm smile.

When Maddison entered the store again after filling his gas tank, Beth was waiting for him just inside the door. “Mr. Holt,” she said and extended her right hand to him.

Maddison closed his hand gently around hers. It fit into his perfectly, and with the connection, he felt something like a strong, warm current flow into him. I seemed so right, somehow, to keep standing there holding her hand in his own. In fact, he was concentrating so intently on that feeling that he almost missed her words.

“The Lord brought you to this store at just the right moment. I have no doubt about that. My whole family will be eternally in your debt.”

Embarrassed, Maddison did let go of her hand and ran his through his hair in what Beth thought was a rather endearing gesture. “Miss Hanover, you don’t owe me anything … particularly not if you believe God brought me here. He’s the One to thank. I’m just doing what I would have appreciated if … if it had been … my brother,” he said, his voice becoming husky.

“Oh, do you have a younger brother too?”

Maddison was stunned by the intensity of the wave of sorrow that rolled through him … and by the sense of having been assaulted … blindsided by such an innocent question. His hands curled into fists at his sides, and he swallowed hard. Beth could see that the question had disturbed him and felt bad, but helpless to change the situation now.

Finally, the stunned look left his eyes, and he refocused on Beth. “I did have.” Maddison spoke quietly, his face rigid.     “He was killed a couple of months ago.”

“Oh, I’m so very sorry.” Beth reached out and laid her hand gently on his arm. “Was it an accident?”

“No! … It was no accident!”

Beth looked at him expectantly, hoping he would tell her what had happened. Finally, with a sigh born of weariness and resignation, Maddison answered the question in her eyes.

“My brother” … He had to stop and clear his throat. “My brother was working with me on a case. … We got too close to the truth, and one of the guys we were after shot and killed him.”

He looked away again and just stared at nothing, obviously lost in thought and fighting for control. “But then again … I guess you could say it was something of an accident too.”

“I don’t think I understand,” said Beth.

“The man who shot my brother was trying to kill me.” He heard Beth’s quick, indrawn breath, and looked straight into her eyes as he added, “And I don’t understand either.”

Lex and Mr. Walker joined them at that moment, and Maddison welcomed the distraction. “Well, Lex, what have you decided?” he asked the boy, recognizing the look on his face. He’d seen it dozens of times on the faces of boys who had recently stumbled into accepting crime as their way of life. It was a mixture of shame for what they’d done and a kind of bitterness at being forced to take the consequences. But Lex’s face had softened considerably now, remorse getting the controlling hand, and Maddison felt hope for him.

“I’ll follow your plan, Mr. Holt … and … thank you,” he said, extending his right hand tentatively toward Maddison.

Maddison gripped his hand firmly. “Good. I’ll leave one of my business cards with the phone number at the farm on the back,” he said, as he proceeded to take three cards from his case and write on them. “I’ll leave one with your sister and Mr. Walker also.” Looking at Beth, he said, “I’d appreciate it if you’d give me your address and phone number too if you don’t mind.”

“Not at all,” she said. “I’ll write it down for you.” She quickly did so and handed him the slip of paper.

“What day will Lex begin work with you?” he asked Abel.

“Tomorrow afternoon at 4:00.”

“Good. I’ll be by some time during that shift to check on things and make more definite plans for the work at the farm. I’d better take the gun with me and lock it up,” he added, reaching under the counter and retrieving the plastic bag Abel had used for it, to avoid any more fingerprints. “I’ll get it into the hands of the proper authorities tomorrow.” At Beth’s look of alarm, he added, “I think I can manage to keep it from causing any more trouble for Lex at this point.”

His face wore just the hint of a tired smile now. “Well, … good night folks.” He nodded to all three in general and headed for his car.


Purchase SET FREE TO LOVE

Paperback: $7.75

Digital: $1.99

On sale this week only

~~~