Category Archives: Trinity Writers Workshop
GUEST INTERVIEW: KALVIN WEAVER
Today I’m interviewing a friend and fellow Trinity Writers’ Workshop member Kalvin Weaver.
Kalvin is a-Kappa Sigma (grand scribe), Thirty Second Degree Master Mason-S/R, Order of the Eastern Star, Rainbow Board.
Kalvin, thank you so much for answering a few questions about your new book,
What inspired you to write your novel?
Current events made me feel insignificant. I had to put something back into my life. I needed to be a hero. I needed to be loved. I know its fiction, but in my mind I lived these adventures and felt this love.
Tell us a little bit about your book.
KALVIN, aka Kobra, a young strong distance runner is recruited by a mysterious organization to assassinate political figures whose agendas threaten American and global interest. His objective, “Run in, take the shot, run out.” Due to his loveless marriage, he falls deeply in love with another agent as she has loved him from afar. As their love affair grows, their missions become more and more dangerous, spiraling them into a realm of espionage.
This is the first novel in a series that depicts a fast action pace from mission to mission. Readers can follow along as the covert operation moves through actual historic assassinations around the world.
Who are your main characters? What are their goals? What are their conflicts?
Kobra is a young man recruited during high school for his running ability. His goal is to get more out of life than what life had given him. His conflict was killing.
Where can we buy your book?
Amazon:
http://www.amazon.com/Kobra-Diary-Assassin-Kalvin-Weaver/dp/1450792308/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1325632833&sr=1-1
Barnes and Noble:
What are you working on now?
Kobra’s lover’s book. She is also an agent. The book chronicles her missions, her love for Kobra, and is a book in the series with a woman’s perspective.
What do you consider the genre for your book?
Fiction with historical assassinations
Who are your favorite writers?
Herman Melville.
If you weren’t a writer, what would be your dream job?
Porn Star. Just kidding. I’m a computer programmer and I enjoy it. Maybe a traveling journalist.
Are the locations you use as settings in your works ones where you have lived or visited?
Yes. I have traveled all over the world and use my memories and pictures to describe the locations where Kobra has traveled.
Describe you usual work environment (home, café, library?)
Home, in a dark corner with no one around. My mind can flow and imagine great possibilities. And I have a very spacious mind to wander around in…
If (when) you become a bestselling writer, with what groups and organizations will you share your windfall?
Science, cancer research, maybe the develoopment of another giant telescope to help find new places to live as we outgrow this wonderful planet.
When you think of your audience/readers, what effect do you hope your book has on them when they’ve finished reading it?
I hope they enjoy it even half as much as I have had writing it. I hope that it takes them away to new places, forgetting their troubles for a while, allowing them to be a hero and find the love of their life.
I hope they enjoy it even half as much as I have had writing it. I hope that it takes them away to new places, forgetting their troubles for a while, allowing them to be a hero and find the love of their life.
Thanks so much for sharing aspects of your writing life here. I look forward to reading your book.
Kalvin Weaver was born in Dallas, Texas in August of 1953. Born of a working class man that taught him the value of a dollar, how to get things done and to work hard for whoever is paying you. He went to high school in Pilot Point, Texas were he played football for the winningest coach in Texas football history and attended college at UT Arlington.
Kalvin says he grew up happy in a Christian home, played drums in a southern rock band in which he was also the lead singer. Later in life, he felt he need something more, He had some military training and one day relived his earlier life and thought, “What if”.
What if his training had not been canceled? What if he had become a patriot, a hero?
Based on this scenario he started writing. Kalvin says that, “In my mind, I have lived what is in my books; the action, the adventure and especially the love. I have since found a meaning in life. I’ve de
dicated my life back to God where he led me back to the love of my life, found a good job and set my path back to positive living. I thank him for all he has done for me every day.”
Kobra
A young strong farm boy is asked to compete in the mile run in high school. He takes it upon himself to run great distances in order to achieve his goal of a gold medal at the state relays. During his sophomore year, mysterious men in dark suites, approach him and his parents and ask him if he would like to attend voluntary military training. He accepts their proposal and is trained in hand to hand combat, throwing knifes and long distance shooting. Each day consist of running thirty miles, shooting at a thousand yard target, then running back from whence he came. His training last for two summers and is abruptly stopped which later he finds out is because of a shut down due to political problems.
Several years later, this young man is summoned to work for his country. His life is not what he expected in his career nor his marriage. Looking for more out of life he accepts with the promise he may quit at any time. He is assigned his code name; KOBRA.
His boss, code name LION, sends Kobra off on many missions to alleviate the world of unsavory men, drug lords, negative political leaders or anyone that might change the world with negative implications on our way of life.
His main objective, “Run in, take the shot, run out.”
Kobra maintains his deception by remaining married and keeping his college studied career in computer programming. He is passed information on his missions from dead letter drops and phone calls. Even though his family doesn’t know what he’s doing, his relationship with his wife is deteriorating.
Due to his loveless marriage, he falls deeply in love with another agent, code name Lisa or Dragon. Lisa has loved Kobra ever since she met him years before. Kobra falls in love with her, a tall beautiful redhead, at first site. As their love affair grows, their missions become more and more dangerous, spiraling them into a realm of espionage.
There mission’s crisscross in foreign countries and in the United States. As their paths intersect, the love for each other grows until they decide they must be together. Kobra is reassigned by his company to work for a pharmaceutical company inNebraska, where Lisa lives. They move in together and complete each other. They continue there missions, some apart, some together, until Lisa is seriously injured. At that time they decide to move toArubaand retire?
This is the first novel in a series that depicts a fast action pace from mission to mission.
Christmas Poetry by Martha Faulkner
Today is the tenth day in the series of holiday stories, poems and songs created by members of the Trinity Writers’ Workshop. These submissions were included in the TWW Christmas Book which was given to children and their families during the Christmas at the Stockyards event in Fort Worth, Texas on December 3, 2011. The tenth of these writers is Martha Faulkner and the following poems are hers.
Christmas Reminder
Who’ll open the first present?
We each wait for our turn.
Round the coffee table,
Watching the fireplace slowly burn.
Will it be youngest to old,
Or Grandmom to sweet Lily?
It doesn’t really matter,
Some traditions seem silly.
One by one we “ooh” and “aah”
“You can exchange it if you like.”
“It’s perfect!” “I love it!”
Then out comes Emma’s bike.
Her face lights up, she screams delight,
The rest just falls away.
Pure joy, warm hearts, shared love.
This is Christmas Day.
Christmas Scene
Neighborhood houses shine bright,
Lit up red, multicolored, or white.
Christmas joy is in the air,
Candy canes and garland everywhere.
Grapevine reindeer stand so still,
Posed frozen on the side of the hill.
Only problem with this scene
It’s still two days before Halloween!
Fa-La-La
‘Tis the season to be jolly–
Red candles, gold bows, and wreaths made of holly.
Nativity sets with figures glued down
Snow globes to wind up and watch scenes go round.
Gingerbread cookies and peppermint candy
Hot chocolate filled mugs that make us feel dandy.
Fa-la-la-la-la La-la-la-la!
Don’t forget that beginning February 2, 2012, I am offering a two month class in character development called Simply Creating Fictional Characters.
The class will include techniques in buiding believable, interesting three-dimensional characters. I will also assist and encourage students to interact with each other through twitter, facebook and their blogs.
I think it will be a great way to start the new year.
To find out more about the classes go to http://www.sharonkowen.com click on the tab classes and creative writing classes.
Looking forward to seeing your there
Simply Creating Fictional Characters Class and 2012 Blog Book Tour
I earlier posted an announcement of the first in a series of online classes I will be teaching in 2012: Simply Creating Fictional Characters.
I originally scheduled it to begin January 2nd 2012; however, I’ve decided to postpone the start date to February 1st 2012 to allow everyone (including myself) time to get all the new year’s schedules and plans worked out in January.
For more information on the class, please go to my website then, click on the Class tab at the top of the page and choose Creative Writing Class from the drop down list.
This is a two month class (2/1/12-3/31/12) with instruction material and the opportunity to participate in class discussions. You will be encouraged (but not required) to complete the exercises, give and receive critique and interact with other class members in various social media (blogs, websites, twitter and facebook).
You may work at your own pace and do as much or as little of the class work as you choose.
The price for the two month class is $20.00 for TWW members and WANA1011 members. It is $40.00 for non-members.
I look forward to working with you in the clsss.
On another note:
Most of you know I self-published my first novel, Thicker Than Water (Brands Crossing Series) in July of 2011. It is now available in Ebook and paperback versions.
I’m planning to publish my second book in the series, Whatever Goes Around (Brands Crossing Series) in March of 2012.
Anticipating the publication of the new book, I am participating in a blog book tour to promote the first novel.
Thanks to Marissa Dobson my fabulous new publicist for setting this up. 
Following is a schedule and a list of participating blogs for this tour. I hope you will check them out and leave comments.
January
4 – Interview @ Ann Montclair
9 – Interview @ Mike Woody
10 – Guest Blog @ W. Lynn Chantale
11 – Interview @ You Gotta Read
16 – Interview @ Everyday is an Adventure
17 – Interview @ Books-n-Kisses
24 – Interview @ chastitybush
30 – Guest Blog @ liadavis
February
2 – Interview @ Bea’s Book Nook
6 – Guest Blog @ I’m a Book Shark
7 – Interview @ Ella Jade
8 – Guest Blog @ Curling Up by the Fire
9 – Guest Blog @ I Just Wanna Sit Here & Read
16 – Guest Blog @ Me and Reading
20 – Interview @Lila Munro
22 – Book Spotlight @ Simplistik
28 – Interview @ Sarah Ballance
Thanks to all of you for your support during my writing journey. I could never have gotten this far without you.
Sharon
Rocks from Santa by Alton Bostick
Today is the ninth day in the series of holiday stories, poems and songs created by members of the Trinity Writers’ Workshop. These submissions were included in the TWW Christmas Book which was given to children and their families during the Christmas at the Stockyards event in Fort Worth, Texas on December 3, 2011. The ninth of these writers is Alton Bostick.
Rocks from Santa
by Alton Bostick
Some thirty or forty years ago my brother-in-law, who is one of the nicest people you could ever meet, had just been assigned to the Fire Department Training Division where he had a desk. As a gift for some occasion, my sister wanted to buy him a conversation piece to place on his desk. She decided on a geode. It was broken open, a beautiful thing with amethyst crystals of various shades of purple and white. As you might imagine it was quite heavy and the outside looked like well, a rock. While he was opening the gift his first view of the item was that of the back side and he uttered the question, “Is this just a rock?” Somehow that got back to Old Santa and every Christmas since then there has been an attractively wrapped gift from that jolly old elf to Jerry that turned out to be — you guessed it, a rock.
At first they were some of the ugliest old rocks, but as the years went by, they went through a change, and included interesting stones from places he’d traveled, from each of the Great Lakes and on one Christmas, five stones from the very creek where David slew Goliath.
The tradition is so well established that his children, grandchildren and great-grand children expect this Rock to show up at one of their Christmas celebrations.
This year though, there is a rumor that a rare stone has been found. We have it on good authority that it could be ancient fossilized leavings of a dinosaur.
Upon the discovery of the interesting stone, two of Santa’s elves, Uff and Effi took the fossil to the renowned Chinese archeologist, Dr. Hoo Digs.
“Doctor Hoo Digs, would you examine this stone that’s been unearthed and tell us about it.”
After just a moment the doctor answered, “The sandstone is round, somewhat circled in the center with the preceding end turned down, and the trailing end up. There is no doubt, that this relic is the dropping of Velociraptor, a smallish dinosaur, which inhabited the Pueblo da Pojoague area of what is now New Mexico.”
Effi was a blond elf, and asked, “Droppings?”
Uff looked at her, “Poop.”
Wrinkling her nose she said, “That is what it looked like.”
The Doctor laughed, “Yes miss, we professionals just refer to the little beast as poopy, because that’s what we find all over that area.”
“Doctor, you said smallish, about the size of what other animal?” Uff asked.
Digs said, “Hum,” he considered the question, his face lit up. “Think of a kangaroo from the waist down, but with no pouch, yet with bigger more powerful upper legs, then add huge-rake like claws for digging and a head like a hog, tusk and all. He’d weigh in between ninety and one hundred forty pounds.”
“Digging?” Effi questioned.
“Yes, the species were vegetarians; they ate mostly a cabbage-like plant and dug up an ancestor of the sweet potato, ingesting a lot of sand with them. Not a fellow you want to spend an evening with in a confined space.”
“So they died out with the rest of the Dinos?” Uff guessed.
“No. Surprisingly not, in fact, they survived several more centuries.” The doctor answered.
“With its size compared to the huge predators back then I’m astonished they weren’t eaten out.” Uff wondered.
“Why weren’t they?” Effi asked.
Doctor Digs said, “Well, young lady, No one knows, but I have a theory. I think they weren’t eaten by the big guys because — well, they probably tasted like poop.”
Effi blushed, Uff said, “Well doctor, we’ll take this information back to Santa. He’s well past just giving Jerry any old rock.”
Doctor Hoo Digs handed the relic to Uff and they thanked him for his help.
After leaving Uff said, “You know I felt better about the fossil before I knew this much about it. Here you hold this thing while I drive our sled.
Effi’s nose twitched. “I’m not touching old poop, even if it is fossilized.
.”
Don’t forget that beginning January 2, 2012, I am offering a two month class in character development called Simply Creating Fictional Characters.
The class will include techniques in buiding believable, interesting three-dimensional characters. I will also assist and encourage students to interact with each other through twitter, facebook and their blogs.
I think it will be a great way to start the new year.
To find out more about the classes go to http://www.sharonkowen.com click on the tab classes and creative writing classes.
Looking forward to seeing your there
Happy Birthday Jesus by Lacy Hall
Today is the eighth day in the series of holiday stories, poems and songs created by members of the Trinity Writers’ Workshop. These submissions were included in the TWW Christmas Book which was given to children and their families during the Christmas at the Stockyards event in Fort Worth, Texas on December 3, 2011. The eighth of these writers is Lacy Hall.
Happy Birthday Jesus!
by Lacy Hall
Christmas was always a time of great excitement and anticipation in our family. It meant decorating the tree, seeing family we hadn’t seen in a long time, and lots of good food and fun. We always went to the Christmas Eve candlelight service at our church, and drove all around town afterwards looking at nativity scenes and twinkling Christmas lights. It was always a wonderful time but one year my mother suggested doing something extra special. “Christmas is all about celebrating the birth of Jesus, so let’s have a Happy Birthday Jesus party!” she said. We all loved the idea, so we set about to plan a party to remember the birth of baby Jesus, the greatest gift of all.
We decided we would have the party on Christmas Eve, so we invited all our friends and family to come over after the candlelight service. During the week leading up to the festivities, we decorated the house with bright green garlands and gold tinsel and made luminaries for the yard out of paper bags and candles. I don’t know which was more fun..the party itself or all the excitement getting ready for it.
Finally, Christmas Eve was upon us, and that day was a whirlwind of preparation of food and putting the final touches on the decorations. My mother made a big chocolate cake and wrote “Happy Birthday Jesus” in icing on the top of it. There were finger sandwiches, sausage balls, all kinds of crackers and dips, and my grandmother’s homemade peanut brittle and chocolate fudge. We got ready and went to the candlelight service where we watched a live nativity and listened to the hand bell choir play Christmas carols. My favorite part was at the end of the service. The preacher talked about how the world is in darkness without the love of Jesus, but how His light can be shared from one person to the next until all of us have it inside our hearts. He demonstrated this by lighting a candle and then the next person’s candle with his flame. We all did this one by one until each person’s flame was burning brightly. Then all the lights in the sanctuary were turned off and we stood there in the glow of all those candles. It was very quiet and the flickering of the candlelight on our faces reflected the joy that we all felt. Then we sang Silent Night with no instruments playing and when that was finished, we left and did not blow out the candles until we were outside. Of course, we had to rush home to be there in time to greet our guests.
The house was filled with the sounds of laughter and holiday cheer. We kids recited a story about the birth of Jesus titled, “The Baby Born in a Stable.” Then we lit the candles on the birthday cake and everyone sang “Happy Birthday” to Jesus, and all the candles were blown out. We ate and sang carols and had a marvelous time with all of our friends from church and our family who made it in from out of town. Everyone went on and on about how much fun they had and what a marvelous idea it was to throw a birthday party for Jesus. My mother and father and I decided right then we wanted to make it a yearly tradition and so we did. Over the years, many splendid Happy Birthday Jesus parties were thrown, each unique and some quite adventurous. Some years, the children attending would dress up in costume and act out the “Baby Born in a Stable” story and there was the year I got sick from eating too much fudge. At one memorable party, the wind starting blowing up a gale and set the luminaries in the yard on fire and we had to keep running outside to put them out. We laugh about that one now. I have a lot of precious memories about all those parties, but the thing I cherish most is that our family’s tradition played a part in bringing a lot of people together over the years to share in the joy of Christmas and celebrate the birth of the One who came to earth and was born as a baby so we could all know His love and grace
.”
Don’t forget that beginning January 2, 2012, I am offering a two month class in character development called Simply Creating Fictional Characters.
The class will include techniques in buiding believable, interesting three-dimensional characters. I will also assist and encourage students to interact with each other through twitter, facebook and their blogs.
I think it will be a great way to start the new year.
To find out more about the classes go to http://www.sharonkowen.com click on the tab classes and creative writing classes.
Looking forward to seeing your there
Clarice’s Long Stockings by Clarice Bostick
Today is the seventh day in the series of holiday stories, poems and songs created by members of the Trinity Writers’ Workshop. These submissions were included in the TWW Christmas Book which was given to children and their families during the Christmas at the Stockyards event in Fort Worth, Texas on December 3, 2011. The seventh of these writers is Clarice Bostick.
Clarice’s Long Stockings
by Clarice Bostick
Once upon a time there was a little girl. Her name was Clarice. She had long brown curly hair. Shyness was a problem for Clarice and she was easily embarrassed. George and Paul were her brothers and Alice was her sister. Grandma lived with the family. Grandma and Clarice’s mother and daddy spent a lot of time reading to her, playing games, teaching her to sew and read and doing so many other things.
There was a vacant lot in back of the house and it was called the “back hill”. Clarice was a dreamer. She liked to go on the “back hill” and sit in a path that overlooked a Buttercup ringed pond and think about Christmas. Christmas was wonderful at our house. The fragrance of date-nut candy mother was making, the gingerbread men Grandma was making, turkey roasting in the oven and the smell of the Christmas tree were all memories she would hold dear all her life. One of the most exciting memories of all was the long stocking packed with fruit, nuts, gum, Crackerjacks and candy.
Well, the stocking at Christmas was wonderful, of course, but there were other aspects of it that was not so wonderful. As soon as the weather turned cold Clarice’s mother would say,” Oh, dear, it is so cold it is time to put on your long stockings.” This was one thing that this little girl dreaded. First, her mother would put this contraption on her to hold the stockings up. It was sorta like a harness that had straps over the shoulders that fitted to a waistband and had two straps in the front and two in the back that were attached to the waistband and then would be pinned to the top of the long white cotton stockings. How awful. They were warm but they were a big embarrassment. No one Clarice knew had to wear these, not her friends, not her sister, just her. Clarice’s birthday was in January and on her 4th birthday she had her first and only birthday party. There were nine who came to the celebration. Her mother took their picture and there was poor Clarice on the front row with her white stockings in plain view. How humiliating. Kindergarten was the next big obstacle to get through with the dumb things. Of course, she was the only one who had to wear them. And then of all things a Christmas play was planned and all the children would be in it. How in the world was she going to handle being in a play where all the world would see her in those dreadful white stockings. Well, guess what? She was picked to be Mrs. Santa Claus. That meant she would wear a long dress. The stockings could not be seen. What a relief. The worrying over the stockings would go on all winter, except at Christmas. Now they turned in to her best friend. Mother would let her use one of them to leave out for Santa. And Santa never failed to fill it to overflowing. There was only one pair of these things so Clarice got a reprieve from them or several days. Maybe those stocking were not as horrible as she thought. Turned out they were downright wonderful. You probably have guessed it by now, but that little brown haired girl with the long curls was me. I don’t wear long white cotton stockings anymore, but my curls have been white for a long time
.”
Don’t forget that beginning January 2, 2012, I am offering a two month class in character development called Simply Creating Fictional Characters.
The class will include techniques in buiding believable, interesting three-dimensional characters. I will also assist and encourage students to interact with each other through twitter, facebook and their blogs.
I think it will be a great way to start the new year.
To find out more about the classes go to http://www.sharonkowen.com click on the tab classes and creative writing classes.
Looking forward to seeing your there
Toy-Boy’s Mother by Alton Bostick
Today is the fifth day in the series of holiday stories, poems and songs created by members of the Trinity Writers’ Workshop. These submissions were included in the TWW Christmas Book which was given to children and their families during the Christmas at the Stockyards event in Fort Worth, Texas on December 3, 2011. The fifth of these writers is Alton Bostick.
Alton grew up in Fort Worth Texas and, like his dad, was a firefighter. He has completed three novels, one memoir, a series of short stories narrated by his Jack Russell Terrier and numerous essays.
Toy-Boy’s Mother
By Alton J. Bostick
It was Christmas afternoon and we’d had a wonderful surprise from dear old Santa. He’d brought the very thing my sister and I most wanted in the entire world: a puppy. We’d already named him Toy-Boy because he was part toy fox terrier.
After a huge Christmas dinner and a nap, to make up for getting up two hours early, my sister and I insisted that grandpa tell us a story.
“Well this is a ghost story—” he began.
“Grandpa this isn’t Halloween,” Sis said.
“I guess I could tell you about this bunny who—”
“It’s not Easter either,” I said.
“Now I could tell you the story about Toy-Boy’s mother, but I don’t know if you two would even be interested to hear about that.”
In unison we cried, “Yes we would.”
“Okay, but I warn you it’s a sad story. Let’s see where to start. I guess that would be when Dolly, that was his mother’s name, was fired from her job catching mice at the hatchery.
You see, she had a bad injury to her left hind leg when she was younger. Still she’d been able to catch those mice. Of course as she got older the leg became stiffer and stiffer and she just couldn’t run fast enough to do her job anymore. The man at the hatchery said, ‘I’m sorry but these are hard times and I can’t afford to keep feeding you when you don’t get your duties done. I’ve had to give your job to someone younger. I hope you find another job soon.’
As she left, insult was added to the loss as a cat rubbed against the man’s trousers.
It wasn’t too cold most nights, but when the spring rains began, she had to sleep under a dock and by morning her leg was awful bad. Worse than the cold, was being hungry most of the time. That is until the day she met Buck, a handsome and somewhat younger rat terrier. He was on his way to the ballpark which was some distance across town. ‘There’s a game there just about every night,’ he said, ‘The people buy hot dogs, nachos, peanuts, popcorn and bring all kinds of snacks. I’m always able to get more than I can eat.’
Dolly was excited at the prospect of having a full tummy for a change, so she asked, ‘Can I go with you?’
‘Can you keep up with that bum leg of yours?’ Buck asked.
‘I won’t let it slow you down too much,’ she said, knowing even as she said it, that it likely would slow them a lot.
Buck said, ‘Aw for a cute little thing like you, I’d take my time.’
He was a charmer all right.
Still they got to the ballpark and found a nice dry spot to sleep and folks gave them all the food they needed. Then a wonderful thing happened after they’d been there a few months, Dolly had four puppies, and she was so proud of them.
Buck said, ‘Yeah, their awfully cute but, how are you going to move them across town they don’t even have their eyes open yet.’
‘Why would I want to move them across town?’ she asked.
Buck said, ‘Don’t you know anything? You haven’t noticed that there hasn’t been a game here this week? The season’s over.’
‘What’ll we do?’ she howled.
‘Look Doll, I’ve got to leave in the morning. This time of year, several old friends of mine sleep under a bridge out by the dump ground. The food isn’t all that good, certainly nothing like we had here this summer, but it got me through last winter.’
‘I can’t move these puppies across town. I’ll have to stay here.’
The next morning as he was about to leave, Buck said, ‘Dolly I feel bad about this, and though I usually don’t give away these little secrets, here’s what you do. Go across that wide main street over in that direction on the other side is a fire station. The firemen will see that you’re nursing puppies and they’ll feed you.’
‘Thank Buck; will you be back next spring?’
‘You know me, unless a better deal comes along I’ll be back,’ Buck said.
‘That street is so hard to cross and with my bad leg— Oh well good luck,’ Dolly said and meant it.
As Buck had predicted the people at the fire station fed her every day. But the puppies needed more milk as they grew, so she had to make two trips a day. There was no way she could get four puppies safely across that busy street. As weather got colder her leg didn’t work as well and it was harder to cross that road.
One day Dolly was sure she could make it, but sadly she couldn’t. The fire fighters hurried out to her and rushed her to a nearby vet. But it didn’t look good. Then someone remembered that they’d been told that this dog had been seen down by the ballpark. The puppies had to be found or they would starve. So the fire fighters got on the fire truck and went to the ballpark. They looked and looked but— then a tiny whimper was heard and soon the puppies were on their way back to the fire station. They stopped at a store got a large box for them to sleep in and a bag of puppy chow. By that night they’d learned to lap warm milk and eat puppy food. The Captain said, ‘We’ve got to find homes for these pups.’
One of the fire fighters said, “I know who can find homes for these two young ones. When Santa comes by to pick up the toys we’ve collected he’ll know just the right boys and girls to give them to or should we go ahead and call the North Pole now?’
‘No need for that Santa sees everything this time of the year.’ The Captain declared.
And that’s how Santa got Toy-Boy and his sister for some very lucky kids this Christmas.”
About that time our Mom came into the room and said, “Grandpa why would you tell a story about this pup’s mother being killed.”
“I said it didn’t look good, I didn’t say she died. In fact the vet fixed that bum leg of hers. It’s good as knew now and so is she. Oh yes and Dolly has a new job, she’s the mascot at Fire Station Seventeen. Sometimes she even gets to ride on their big fire truck.”
Don’t forget that beginning January 2, 2012, I am offering a two month class in character development called Simply Creating Fictional Characters.
The class will include techniques in building believable, interesting three-dimensional characters. I will also assist and encourage students to interact with each other through twitter, facebook and their blogs.
I think it will be a great way to start the new year.
To find out more about the classes go to http://www.sharonkowen.com click on the tab classes and creative writing classes.
Looking forward to seeing your there
Nola The Spirit of Christmas by Janice Nourse
Today is the fourth day in the series of holiday stories, poems and songs created by members of the Trinity Writers’ Workshop. These submissions were included in the TWW Christmas Book which was given to children and their families during the Christmas at the Stockyards event in Fort Worth, Texas on December 3, 2011. The fourth of these writers is our resident song writer Janice Nourse.
Jan also writes children’s books but lately she has been concentrating her creativity energy on writing and performing songs.
:
As a member of the writer’s group at Bedford Boys Ranch since 1981, Jan has tried her hand at nearly all the genres. She’s published poetry, a romance novella, nonfiction articles in local papers and magazines, and a column “Counselor’s Corner”. Juvenile fiction sparked her creative spirit with short stories and books, some winning contests and others published.
Her current love is combining a passion for music with a love of writing. Having received a Goya guitar at fifteen, she entered those memorable flower-child years equipped to sing along with Peter, Paul, and Mary and Dylan. A part of her never left.
Her band, The Sonshine Sisters, adds mountain dulcimers, a yuke, and harmony to her songs They’ve performed them on stage at a number of festivals, including Bennington, Oklahoma and Glenrose, Texas. Their goal is to put together a CD of all Jan’s original songs. To hear a sample, you can find them jamming in the antique shop on Main Street in Whitesboro, Texas every Wednesday afternoon.
Nolah The Spirit of Christmas
Song by
Janice Nourse
Chorus
Too late to buy the holiday,
No more money to spare;
No need for gifts or getaways
When the Spirit of Christmas is here.
Nolah, Nolah, Nolah,
Bring forth the Young One, Nolah,
And the Spirit of Christmas is here.
Verse 1
Care for the heart that thrills at your touch,
Care for the home that you share,
And for the scent of winter pine embracing the crisp night air.
Verse 2
Care for the people who enter your life,
Care for those on the street,
And for strangers across the world the many you’ve yet to meet.
Verse 3
Pray for the soldiers trapped in war,
Pray that the fury will cease,
And grief and sadness disappear into hope and love and peace.
Don’t forget that beginning January 2, 2012, I am offering a two month class in character development called Simply Creating Fictional Characters.
The class will include techniques in building believable, interesting three-dimensional characters. I will also assist and encourage students to interact with each other through twitter, facebook and their blogs.
I think it will be a great way to start the new year.
To find out more about the classes go to http://www.sharonkowen.com click on the tab classes and creative writing classes.
Looking forward to seeing your there
I Heard Something and Twinkly Lights by Joanne Faries
Today is the second day in the series of holiday stories, poems and songs created by members of the Trinity Writers’ Workshop. These submissions were included in the TWW Christmas Book which was given to children and their families during the Christmas at the Stockyards event in Fort Worth, Texas on December 3, 2011. The second of these writers is Joanne Faries.
Joanne, originally from the Philadelphia area, lives in Texas with her husband Ray. She considers herself fortunate to be able to pursue a writing career after eons in the business world. Published in Doorknobs & Bodypaint, Joanne writes short stories, flash fiction, and poetry. She has works on Associatedcontent.com, in Shine magazine, A Long Story Short.com, Chicken Soup for the Soul – Kids in the Kitchen, and Silver Boomer productions “Freckles and Wrinkles” plus “From the Porch Swing”. She has started a novel. Joanne enjoys reading and movies, and is the film critic for the Little Paper of San Saba.
Joanne has recently completed her first novel, My Zoo World: If All Dogs Go to Heaven I’m in Trouble, is now available in ebook and paperback versions.
I Heard Something
by Joanne Faries
Eight-year old Mandy Pearson awoke to the sound of an idling truck. She rubbed her eyes, stretched, and heard her mother’s footsteps outside her door.
“Good morning, sweetheart. Time to get ready for school.” Mandy’s mother bustled in, gave Mandy her shot, and helped her use the walker to the bathroom.
“Mom, is there a truck here? I thought I heard it out front and then I heard noise in the backyard. What’s going on?”
Her mother frowned. “It must have been up the street, dear. There’s nothing happening now. Hurry up. I’ll fix your breakfast.” Mandy picked out jeans and her favorite purple top. She braided her blonde hair and slipped on a violet headband
Mandy, in her chair, wheeled into the dinette. “How come the drapes are still closed? That’s weird.” Her mother ignored her and continued to cook.
After scrambled eggs, her mother strolled beside the wheelchair to the bus stop. Mandy carried her Justin Bieber backpack in her lap.
“Remember, Mrs. Ames will pick you and Terri up after school. I’ll drive your suitcase over to Terri’s.” Mandy’s mother smiled. “Be good. It’s nice of them to invite you for the weekend. I’m sure you’ll have fun. Your dad will pick you up on Sunday.”
Mandy was excited, but a little nervous, too. This was her first sleepover. “Mrs. Ames is a nurse, but does she know about multiple sclerosis? She knows not to baby me, right?”
“Oh, honey, you’ll be fine. She can give you your shot. You’ve been there on play dates and you were treated well. Why should anything change? Just enjoy yourself and we’ll see you soon.” Mandy’s mother kissed her and waved as the bus chugged on to pick up other students.
Mandy’s day flew by. She liked Fridays since it was chorus practice day; she almost won a spelling bee, and didn’t have time to think about the truck, the closed drapes, or mysterious noises in the backyard. At 3 p.m., Mrs. Ames greeted her and Terri. She helped Mandy into the blue Tahoe and loaded the wheelchair into the back with no problem. This is going to be a perfect weekend thought Mandy.
The yellow suitcase was in Terri’s room and Mandy rooted through it to find her hostess present for Mrs. Ames. It was a box of candy, and Mandy’s mother told her this was polite. I’m glad Mom knew I should give a treat she thought. Mrs. Ames hugged her and acted grateful. After an afternoon snack of homemade chocolate chip cookies, the girls played dress-up and giggled.
Once he was home from work, Mr. Ames scared the girls. He banged on Terri’s door. A big man, he came into the room, grabbed a red feather boa, and put it around his neck. Shrieks of hilarity brought Mrs. Ames to the doorway. “I’m going to order pizza. Do you like pepperoni, Mandy?”
“Yum. I like everything except mushrooms.”
“You fit into this family just fine. I’ll call you to the dining room when the delivery arrives,” said Mrs. Ames.
Pizza, DVDs, Saturday at the mall to look at holiday decorations, and lots of laughter – the weekend was busy and Mandy remembered once to call her parents. “Hi Mom, yes, I’m behaving. Everything is swell. Mrs. Ames gave me my shot and it didn’t hurt at all. I hear hammering. What’s Dad doing?”
Mandy listened as her mother stammered, “Oh, your father’s hanging a picture for me.”
“That’s a lot of hammering for one picture. Hey, I’ve got to go, Mom. Mr. Ames grilled burgers and we’re going to eat. Bye. Love you.” Hmm. That was strange Mandy wondered and then joined the Ames’ dinner.
Sunday morning dawned. Mandy packed, enjoyed a pancake breakfast, and then she and Terri sat on the porch to chat about school and friends. Mandy’s father drove up at 10 a.m. After thank-yous and hugs, he and Mandy zoomed home.
There was a balloon on the mailbox and Mandy’s mother sat on the front porch. As they pulled into the driveway, Mandy noticed the side gate was open. She fussed with her seatbelt. Once she was in her wheelchair, both Mandy’s mom and dad talked at once. “We have a surprise for you. Come to the back yard.” They escorted her through the open gate and then stood back.
“Wow.” Mandy exclaimed and cried happy tears. Now she understood the mystery of truck and hammer noises. A large wooden playhouse complete with a ramp for her chair nestled in the backyard under their large oak tree. She rolled into it and inhaled the fresh scent. “This is the best surprise, ever. Better than Christmas morning!” Mandy beamed and kissed her parents.
Twinkly Lights
by Joanne Faries
cheer birds
flitting to nip berries
glow for squirrels
that scamper to gather nuts
keep a snowman company
he bites his corncob pipe
so his teeth don’t chatter
Don’t forget that beginning January 2, 2012, I am offering a two month class in character development called Simply Creating Fictional Characters.
The class will include techniques in building believable, interesting three-dimensional characters. I will also assist and encourage students to interact with each other through twitter, facebook and their blogs.
I think it will be a great way to start the new year.
To find out more about the classes go to http://www.sharonkowen.com click on the tab classes and creative writing classes.
Looking forward to seeing your there.
THE CHRISTMAS ANGEL by Ann Summerville
Today is the first day in the series of holiday stories, poems and songs created by members of the Trinity Writers’ Workshop. These submissions were included in the TWW Christmas Book which was given to children and their families during the Christmas at the Stockyards event in Fort Worth, Texas on December 3, 2011. The first of these writers is Ann Summerville.
Ann was born in England, and in search of a warmer climate, moved to California before settling in Texas. In addition to her published novels–A Graceful Death, High Tide, Storms and Secrets and the Berton Hotel–her short stories and flash fiction have been published in the Lutheran Digest, Long Story Short, The Shine Journal, Doorknobs & Bodypaint (both online and in their anthology), Associated Content, Trinity Writers’ Workshop newsletters and also their collection of Christmas stories. She is a member of Trinity Writer’s Workshop and is currently working on another cozy mystery. She resides in Fort Worth, near her daughter and son-in-law, with her son, two boisterous dogs and a somewhat elusive cat.
The Christmas Angel
by Ann Summerville
From the top of the Christmas tree an angel looked down, past the green and fragrant pine needles, past the twinkling lights and past the sparkling ornaments. Her eyes finally rested on a box. The box was pretty with silvery blue paper and snowmen prints, but inside was something that brought a tear to her eye.
Each year, the day after Thanksgiving, Molly who was now six years old, took the angel out of its battered box, hugged her tightly and told her how much she loved her. Molly’s dad lifted her up high so that she could place the angel on top of the tree. A week after Christmas Molly would hug the angel again and place her softly in tissue paper. In the dark, with the other Christmas ornaments, the angel waited patiently through hot summers in the garage until the temperatures dipped, snow fell from the sky and amid Christmas carols she would see daylight once again. She didn’t mind the darkness so much because what she wanted most was to be hugged by the little girl, but this year was different. In that box was her replacement.
She had seen it when Molly went to bed. Her mother pulled the new angel from a bag and straightened the pure white satin dress, fluffed up the blond hair with her fingers and adjusted the sparkling angel wings before unraveling the snowmen paper and wrapping the present.
The light next to the tree top angel didn’t help her appearance, it showed the frayed red velvet dress, shone through the gaps in her dark brown hair and made the missing diamonds in her crown more noticeable. Another tear plonked on to the red velvet. What would become of her? Would the new angel take her place in the green plastic tub in the garage?
With very little sleep, the angel’s eyes opened when Molly ran into the room still wearing flannel pajamas. The tree rustled as she pulled packages out from beneath the pine branches. But instead of ripping open the presents, Molly glanced at the angel and smiled. The angel thought maybe she had been mistaken or maybe the little girl didn’t know. Of course she didn’t, she hadn’t opened the box yet. Molly’s mother passed her the present with the snowmen packaging and she slowly opened it. Her eyes grew large when she pulled out the beautiful angel with the golden hair, but instead of hugging it, she turned and whispered to her mother who nodded. Molly’s dad lifted her up high and she scooped the old angel from the top of the tree. It all happened so fast the angel hardly had time to think, but the little girl didn’t throw her away. Instead, Molly took her to her bedroom and put her next to her teddy bear.
“I can really keep her here all year?” she asked her mother.
Her mother smiled. “She’s yours to hug every day.”
“Why is her face wet?” asked Molly.
They both looked closely at the angel with the red frayed dress. She couldn’t tell them, but the tears were not of sadness, but of joy. She would be hugged every single day.
Don’t forget that beginning January 2, 2012, I am offering a two month class in character development called Simply Creating Fictional Characters.
The class will include techniques in building believable, interesting three-dimensional characters. I will also assist and encourage students to interact with each other through twitter, facebook and their blogs.
I think it will be a great way to start the new year.
To find out more about the classes go to http://www.sharonkowen.com click on the tab classes and creative writing classes.
Looking forward to seeing your there.
