My Blog

Sometimes the path to spring is paved with snow and ice. Beautiful but a little bumpy along the way. There are times when winter seem so long, but spring always comes.

“We have shards of truth, and we can gather them up, bits of broken mosaic tile that shine. We know that this is a very dangerous place, that we are an extremely vulnerable species, that Cain is still killing Abel.” Anne Lamott

So I ask why, which is not a useful question or where is grace, which is sometimes hard to see in life’s situations. When the winter of life seems so long, or I see tragedy which once again reminds me just how vulnerable I am as a human in this world; it leaves me wondering once again, what I can do to make a difference in a hurting world. Maybe the only answer is to simply live with love.

Love is the only remedy for hate, but it wouldn’t hurt if I stopped to think before I speak either. It might be a good idea too, if whatever light I have could be used to dispel the darkness and not as a tool of judgment or anger. I know it may sound simplistic to say in the face of the complex problems our world is facing, but it is reduced to this for me. I can impact my world the most by the changes I make and how I treat every person I meet. In the end the only person I can change is me. The process can be scary and beautiful. Something like the process of the earth awakening, blossoming, and growing, after a long cold winter.

Never be afraid to sit awhile and think.
~Lorraine Hansberry

To think is to use one’s mind actively, to form connected ideas. It is to have an opinion, a belief, or an idea about something. It may also be about changing an idea after hearing other facts on the subject. It never hurts to take a moment to think.

My mother used to say to me, think before you speak. You can’t take the words back once they are out there. A simple idea really, but not always easy to do. More often than not, I would blurt out what popped into my mind, hurting someone else or at the very least walking away embarrassed with my foot in my mouth.

My ideas and beliefs were right after all, and those other folks just didn’t get the truth. I mean, wasn’t my opinion the only one that mattered? To maintain the feeling of being right and superior took a lot of work. I had to hang out with only those who agreed me. I couldn’t listen to someone who thought differently. Wow, what a crazy way to live. I can honestly say that I didn’t start to grow until I challenged myself to listen and to think outside my box.

With age I’ve learned that thinking first, can save you undo misery. It’s not my job to hurl insults at people, or criticize them. I can disagree with their ideas, and still not demonize who they are. The political season is a constant reminder to me of this. Before I’m a Democrat, Republican, or Independent, whether I’m conservative or liberal I’m first and foremost a human. I’ve made it my quest to find good in everyone  that I can and let that good be what I talk about. Okay, I’m not perfect and I can’t pretend that I am. Sometimes I have had to think really hard and  still I couldn’t find a positive thing to say. At that point I take Thumper’s mother’s advice. If you can’t say something nice don’t say anything at all. I do slip up and then I start over again.

I find time out works for me like it does for a child. Alone, on a chair, I spend time thinking, rearranging my thoughts, even changing some of them. In the end I find the old golden rule is still the best of all. Do to others as you would have them do to you.

Of course, thinking is good for so many other things. It can get my creative juices flowing, take me out of my narrow world to see the bigger picture, and help me to understand how much I have in comparison to others in the world. Thoughts allow me to dream, consider new ideas, and expand my views. I’ve opened my mind in new ways and amazingly my brains have not fallen out.

I would like to introduce you to Alexia Stevens a special friend I met on twitter. I know you’ll enjoy reading about her family Christmas traditions. She is the writer of a great blog which I hope you’ll check out.

Twice Baked Christmas

My favorite time of year is the Thanksgiving / Christmas holidays.  I enjoy watching Christmas movies year round because I like to stay in the warmness of the holiday season; everything from family and friends to the home baked goodness shared between family, friends and neighbors. And NO, I never ever tire of watching the movies year round.

One of our favorite traditions for Thanksgiving is that my father-in-law gives each member in our family a new tree ornament after the meal.  So, it’s like Christmas –twice.

Another tradition we have adopted is to choose one of the two holidays to have the traditional dinner.  During the other holiday, we snack –various crackers, cheeses, olives, summer sausage, etc.  Of course, throw in a good football game and we are good to go.  It keeps us from being burned out on turkey / ham or having too many sweets.  We do this when our extended families can’t join us.

Watching the Christmas movies year round inspires me as a writer.  I have written some children’s Christian workbooks that go with a summer camp I do, but I am venturing out into the creative world of fiction writing.  My two current works in progress are Mystery at Bear Creek Island and Southern Grace.   All of my works will most likely be set during the winter months – holiday time and anywhere from Georgia to the Canadian Rockies.

You can read short samples of my writings at www.alexiastevens.weebly.com and follow me on Twitter at www.twitter.com/alexiastevens01.

My favorite is YA Mystery, YA Romance, and Earl Grey Tea – Come have a cup with me.

I would like to introduce you to Susan Ricci. Susan and her husband Joe live in a  New Jersey town near the sea. Together they have seven children and nine grandchildren. Susan is an award-winning, internationally read, From Women’s Pens, author and humorist. I met Susan on Twitter and I follow her on Facebook. I know you will enjoy her story and while you’re at it you should check out her books if you enjoy romance.

My Christmas Miracle

At the risk of sounding melancholy, marvelous Christmas memories are either constant from birth, arrive late in life, or perhaps not at all. I eventually became one of the lucky ones, but the truth is, I doubted a Christmas marvel would ever happen to me. Although I was determined to ensure happy holidays for the sake of my children over three decades, I’d felt bereft of personally experiencing those Christmas magical wonders we all grew up believing. That is, until five years ago… My grown children were shocked I’d even consider remarrying that Christmas in 2010, when Joe and I became engaged. Joe had asked me to marry him earlier Christmas morning, on bended knee no less. I was honored and quite flustered as a young bride-to-be, when I accepted him as my future husband. Later, Joe, my family, and me were all sitting at the dining room table enjoying Christmas dinner. Suddenly, my youngest daughter saw the beautiful aquamarine and diamond ring on the appropriate finger and yelled, “Mommy’s wearing a ring!” My oldest cried, “Oh my God!” and my only son simply looked dazed. Not quite the reaction I was hoping for, but in truth, I wasn’t surprised. My marital past had been fraught with failure. I’d divorced my children’s father after twenty-five years of miscommunication and abuse, and immediately hopped aboard the relationship train with my Jewish boss. Both of us had been friends for many years, and thought by changing that friendship into a romantic connection, we’d soon find the happiness that eluded us in our former marriages. We tied the knot five years later. Because of his religious beliefs, my second husband didn’t celebrate Christmas. Oh, he gave me expensive gifts and told me I’d be allowed to have a Christmas tree and such, but his heart wasn’t in it, and I knew it. Our differences were apparent in other ways as well, and after four short years, the marriage ended. So did my employment at his office. A year later, the Zeppelin, also known as Joe, entered my life and with his arrival came joy, love, and security, and my new best friend. My children did their best to dissuade me from marrying again. My youngest daughter told me, “He’s just marrying you for sex.” “So what?” I’d responded. “How lucky can a gal over half a century old get?” My son thought Joe might be marrying me for my money. “Money?” I laughed. “He’s the one with the money.” And so it went. I even received a text from one of the kids on my wedding day in Hawaii saying, “It’s still not too late.” Needless to say, five happy years later, Joe has been the inspiration for every story that has been ever created by my muse, also known as Cindy Layton. There’s an element of truth in everything I’ve ever published, however slight, and if it wasn’t for my loving husband, I’d probably be a bitter, old hag writing stagnant summaries of prose that have no meaning. What began as a journal, while Joe and I were dating, evolved into the novel Dinosaurs and Cherry Stems. The story earned several prestigious awards for Humor and Romance the past several years, and my husband’s enthusiastic encouragement was key in creating my first published novel. Joe’s love for me is my true Christmas miracle. This year, as we celebrate the holiday season, we do this together under our first roof as man and wife. We’ve sold our previous homes, his and mine, and bought one together. In short, we’ve renovated both the house and our lives. I think that constitutes a pretty decent Christmas Miracle, don’t you?

 https://www.facebook.com/DinosaursCherryStems/

I would like to take a moment to welcome Kari Nichols to my blog. She is a new friend that I met on twitter. Kari and her husband recently moved to France. I know you will enjoy Kari’s Holiday Tradition.

Kari’s Holiday Tradition

Throughout my short twenty-nine years, my family’s holiday traditions have evolved and changed. I grew up with my mother and father and two older sisters in Little Rock, Arkansas. We weren’t raised like a typical southern family—my parents were both raised in the Southwest by parents from the Northeast (creating a completely unique culture for myself and my sisters). The deep-rooted family traditions held closely by most families weren’t present in my life. My family made our own traditions, and we stuck with them for as long as they made sense. My parents didn’t feel the need to hold onto traditions that didn’t work with older children as well as they did when we were young. We had a streak of about five years of Advent wreaths—complete with weekly candle lightings and scripture readings. There was another span of six or seven years where our family would make several varieties of Christmas cookies together.  When we were all living under the same roof, my sisters and I would take turns placing the tree topper after the tree was completely decorated. But none of these traditions stuck as we grew into adults and began families of our own.

So as I sit here thinking of what holiday traditions my family has always had and continues to celebrate, I’m left with one:

From the time we were babies, my parents instilled into us that Thanksgiving and Christmas are a time for gratefulness.

Now, that may seem cheesy, but every year of my life—as far back as I can remember—my  family has taken time during the holiday season to give thanks for what we have. At Thanksgiving, my mother used to grab a handful of uncooked corn kernels and divide them equally amongst our family. We had to take turns saying what we were thankful for (no repeating what anyone else said!), placing a kernel in the center of the table each time, until all the kernels were used. Once we were older, the kernels were no longer used, but the rest of the tradition remained.

The things my mother would say during that time still stick with me. While most people might think of the typical stuff to be grateful for—“a good family,” “the holiday gathering,” “tasty food,” etc., my mother would always throw in a few surprises: “running water,” “electricity,” “enough money to buy food for a meal.”

It quickly transformed my thoughts into a place of absolute gratefulness. “I’m sitting in a heated home, with enough food for ten people even though there are only five of us. And cooking this meal was a breeze because of the stove, oven, and running water.” The tradition turned our entire holiday season into a time where we felt grateful for even the smallest detail—like waking up in a comfortable bed with clean sheets. And it made our Christmas presents—no matter how small or inexpensive—seem like grandiose gifts fit for only the richest of families.

And so I am thankful for a family that taught me how to truly be grateful for everything I have. That is the holiday tradition that I hope I will never lose.

Links:

www.karinichols.com

www.twitter.com/thekarinichols

www.facebook.com/thekarinichols

paperback books:

Rogue- https://www.createspace.com/4903508 Ghost- https://www.createspace.com/5731104 A Dysfunctional Life- https://www.createspace.com/4975024 Amazon: Rogue- http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00MRO73PM Ghost- http://www.amazon.com/dp/B0155OLR5M A Dysfunctional Life- http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00U8H0P2S

The Snyder Christmas Tree

 I come from a very large family. When I say very large, I mean like a litter of puppies large…a BIG litter of puppies. I have two natural born brothers and twenty-three foster and adopted brothers. There were never less than ten of us in the house at one time. Add in the friends we dragged home and you had a regular Humane Society collection of kids.

Christmas was always the biggest holiday of the year. All my brothers came home for Christmas bringing with them their wives and kids if they had any. For that reason, the Christmas tree had to be perfect in Mom’s eyes.

There was a tradition, almost a ritual, about the installation and decoration of the tree. It had a predictable flow to it which established the start and the end of the season.

The tree was always put up the week before Christmas and taken down on New Year’s Day. It went something like this…

Mom and Dad would load us all in the station wagon to make the trek to the Christmas tree lot. The lot was always a different place, because we were a nomadic military family, but Dad usually picked one run by the Boy Scouts. Once there, we would all pile out to go on a search for the ‘perfect’ tree. Of course, the Boy Scouts were helpful too, so Mom and Dad had lots to choose from.

Mother was the deciding vote. She would have us turn our choices around – finding the flaws of a gap in the branches, or a twisted trunk. Some were too tall, some too short, some too skinny and some too fat, for the place she had in mind. Nobles were not on the radar. Mother liked bushy fir trees and in her later years Grand Firs were her favorites.

Once the tree was selected, purchased and tied to the top of the station wagon, we were off.

Arriving at home the tree had its trunk trimmed, was set in the stand and brought into the house. This was all done by Dad and the boys while Mother and I prepared a tray of homemade cookies and hot chocolate for consumption while doing the laborious job of decorating the tree.

Once the tree was inside the house Mother was in charge again. She would have Dad under the tree adjusting the screws and the boys up top in order to get the tree straight, and its best side showing out into the room. Once that was accomplished, which was sometimes a lengthy process requiring many cookie breaks and much debate, then the ornaments were brought in from the garage.

At this point the tree was still in the hands of Dad and the boys, but with Mom as overseer. They had to install the lights. This was in the days of those big bulbs. Mother would point out two bulbs the same color, which were too close to one another. They would have to be changed out. Burnt lights were replaced and eight colored foil shades were put randomly behind bulbs of contrasting colors.

Now it was time for the ornaments. They were each handed out by Mother, one-by-one into our hands. Jazzed on sugar from the cookies and hot chocolate, and impatient from having to wait for so long while Mom and Dad dinked to get the tree just right, we stood in line waiting for our ornaments to hang.

Each ornament had a story Mother recited when she handed it to you because each ornament represented a person or an event. The tree was a hodgepodge of Snyder family memories.

There were three blue balls left from the original dozen purchased by Dad from the Five-and-Dime store on their first Christmas together. They had thought they would skip having a tree. They were young and short of cash with a new baby. But, Mother was away from home and Dad found her crying over my older brother, so he rushed out, found a Charlie Brown Christmas tree and bought the last box of bulbs at the Five-and-Dime. Mother always said it was the best Christmas ever.

Each of us kids had our own angel, picked out for us on our first Christmas and lovely wrapped and preserved year after year. Mine and Wade’s were so old that they were not actually ornaments, but hand painted little ceramic figurines with ornament hooks affixed around their necks. I always though it rather odd looking.

The angel tradition expanded with the foster and adopted and on into the grandkids over the years, until toward Mother’s later years, we had a separate tree for the angels.

The reason there were only three blue ball ornaments left from the original dozen was because Mother established the tradition of exchanging an ornament with friends. Each year, she would buy a few extra ornaments and when company showed up, she would gift them with the mutual agreement that they would bring one from their tree or we would pick one up when we visited. Hence, the many stories Mother told as she handed each ornament out. This is a tradition I have continued with my tree over the year.

The tree had been through the growth of many toddlers and animal family members, so there were ornaments made from plastic for the lower branches. There were the traditional handmade ornaments. Whether made from foil covered toilet paper rolls, cotton balls, Styrofoam with pins and beads, or macaroni, they were all cherished by Mother.

In their later years, Mom and Dad picked up ornaments from places they visited and I gave Mom a fancy ornament each year in her stocking. These all had their history too.

Somewhere about the time the tinsel went on Mother would tell the story of the year the tree fell over twice. The second time it actually fell on Dad, who was sleeping on the couch because he had a cold and didn’t want to give it to Mom. That year we kids had the brilliant idea of filling clear glass bulbs with food-coloring water. Dad not only had the tree fall on him, but it also exploded in a mess of wet and glass. We kids woke to find the tree on the front porch. We had two trees that year. One for the house and the one on the porch which we decorated with popcorn strings for the birds.

Last, but not least, there was the top ornament. Its point has been shattered, but we still used it. The story that went with that one was about a tree that was too tall. Dad bent the top down to attach the ornament, when he released, it flipped up and hit the topper on the ceiling, breaking it off. It’s still a pretty topper, so it still adorns the tree with its own story to tell.

Once the tree was decorated and the skirt placed around it, it was time for all of us to scramble and put our packages under the tree. Each one wrapped in everything from foil and the Sunday comics to brown paper bags decorated with potato stamped designs.

With the packages all in place, there was nothing left to do except sit back, eat more cookies and watch “How the Grinch Stole Christmas” one more time.

I Wish You All a Very Merry Christmas and a Happy Holiday Season

If you are looking for something special to place under the tree, think about my newest offerings from my fantasy collection, Farloft’s Storybook for your hatchlings age 2-1/2 to 6, or the Farloft Chronicles – Collections 1 and 2 for age 9 to adult.

If your tastes do not run to fantasy please check out my website for sample chapters and purchasing links to my Scifi, Paranormal and Memoir books.

Website: www.TheresaSnyderAuthor.com

Twitter: www.Twitter.com/TheresaSnyder19

Paper:

As we approach the holidays of Thanksgiving and Christmas. I would like to take a moment to say how thankful I am for my life, my family, and all the many people I am privileged to call friends. I have been blessed to have each of you in my life.

This past year has taught me up close and personal, life can change in a moment. The sad events in our world over the past several days have reinforced those thoughts even more. Each day I live is a gift to be treasured, to be enjoyed, and shared. I love these words by Anne Lamott  “Life is motion, change, stagnation, bloom: nothing ever seems to happen, or awful stuff happens, or beautiful stuff happens and we say “Amen.” I am so grateful for each of you who were there to share in the awful stuff, the stagnation, the blooming, and the beautiful. “Amen.” You prayed so many prayers, crossed your fingers with mine as I waited and joined in my joyous moments. You have encouraged me,  laughed with me, and cried with me.

Life doesn’t come with instructions or warning labels for that matter. No scary music plays when danger is approaching. I’ve made some dumb choices and some brilliant ones. I have learned by trial and error, what it means to be human. I am not sure how I’m doing, but I’m working hard at being the best human I can be.

This is the time of year helps me to rediscover my footing in gratitude. I love so many things about the holiday season. I enjoy our traditions both old and new, the ornaments, and the decorations. I love the family gatherings with my kids and grandkids; the aroma of our favorite foods cooking; the laughter that trickles out around the table in conversation and games that are played late into the night. Now, more than ever before, I am also conscious of those who are missing, and others who are alone.

Thank you, my dear family and friends. I pray your hope is renewed along with mine as you gather with loved ones, see the lights of Christmas, and hear the stories of Chanukah. May your heart be opened not only to your own family but also to the human family. Let the love and the joy of the season spill out of your life into good deeds.

Please join me over the next few weeks  when Theresa Snyder, Kari Nichols, Susan Ricci, and Alexia Stevens a few of my author friends will be my guest bloggers and will share their holiday memories with you.  These are lovely ladies and I know you’ll enjoy their memories.

I got tagged by Theresa Snyder to answer some interview questions on my own blog. So here I go and I hope you learn a little something about me along the way. Theresa will be one of my guest authors in November. She will be here the week of Thanksgiving so please watch for her Christmas memory and books which will be great gift ideas.

When did you first start writing? Was being a writer something you always aspired to be? I never considered writing fiction or aspired to be a writer until just a few years ago. My husband was working out of town I took a writing class called Breaking into Print for something to do. It covered both non-fiction and fiction. I felt at home in writing fiction. My teacher told me my stories had legs and he thought I should try my hand at writing a novel.  I gave it a shot. My first novel was picked up by The Wild Rose Press, and the Kindle version was recently released under Amazon Encore.

What genre do you write? I write mystery suspense with a little romance and a twist of the paranormal.

Can you tell us a little about your current work in progress? When did you start working on this project?   My current work in progress is another Blue Cove Mystery. This one tackles another subject plaguing  our society today. I started this book in the summer but had to do revisions and finish another book at the same time. There is a new character being introduced in this story who might become a spin off series. We’ll see how it plays out. I’m about 1/3 of the way done.

What was your first piece that you can remember writing? What was it about? There are many but the one that stands out to me was a characterization of my aunt who was born and raised in Australia.

What’s the best part about writing? I love watching a story unfold. I’m never entirely sure when I start who did it and how my characters will respond. I let them lead me, so to speak.

What’s the worst part about writing? I’m a bit of a chatty Kathy so keeping the story’s mystery intact without giving it all away is a big deal for me.

What’s the name of your favorite character and why? Jessie Reynolds, because she’s the one I’m working with right now.

How much time a day/week do you get to write? When is the best time for you to write (morning or night)? I spend about three to four hours a day writing. Afternoons into the early evenings work the best for me. I do this at least 5 to 6 days a week.

Did you go to college for writing? I took a writing class and novel writing class through the University of Connecticut.

What bothers you more: spelling errors, punctuation errors, or grammar errors? All of them. I make them all and see them all after the fact.

What is the best writing advice that anyone has given you? Write everyday.

What advice would you give to another writer? Enjoy the whole process from the first draft until the final stage. I love it all.

What are your favorite writing sites or blogs that you turn to for help, tips, or encouragement? I do a lot of research on the internet and I love getting to know other authors. Although, readers give me some of the best encouragement.

Besides writing, what else do you enjoy doing? What are your hobbies? I love spending time with my family and friends. I also love to read.

What’s the best book you’ve read this year? I’ve read quite a few and since the year is over yet I’ll hold my answer on this one.

What is the best movie you’ve seen this year? Any movie I see with my grandkids whether it’s Big Hero Six or Frozen is a great one. If they’re enjoying it then so am I.

What is your favorite book or series of all time? My favorite book is Pride and Prejudice.

Who is your favorite author? That’s too hard I like many, but overall I enjoy Jane Austen.

What are your plans for the rest of the year in terms of your writing? I’m waiting to hear on a book from my publisher. I’m about to query them on another book and I want to finish my work in progress.

Where else can we find you online?

https://www.facebook.com/Iona-Morrison-Author-534319506628681/?fref=photo

https://www.pinterest.com/ionammorrison/

http://www.amazon.com/Iona-Morrison/e/B00N39NJIA/ref=ntt_dp_epwbk_0

https://twitter.com/ionacrv

https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/8605155.Iona_Morrison

“Very few writers really know what they are doing until they’ve done it.” (Anne Lamott)

I admit this is me.  I have no clue, I’m a pants-ter. (I don’t know if pants-ter is even a word, but it describes me. I fly by the seat of my pants.) I can see in my mind all you wonderfully organized folks out their shaking your heads in dismay and rightfully so. But, may I just say in my defense I’ve been like this all my life. I’ve raised three boys and never lost one. I managed to speak publically for many years without totally embarrassing myself, and I even have a clean house. I’ve traveled, managed an office, was a bookkeeper, (with books that balanced) and wrote two novels. It works for me.

 I’m impressed with, and in awe of people who plan out every step of their project; those who know what they are going to create from the beginning all the way to the end; organized before they start. I’ve attempted to do the same, but oh how quickly I stray from the path. I don’t just stray, I color outside the lines, and go a completely different direction,  I’m a pants-ter.  I wonder if there is an intervention for people like me.

 I should mention on my book shelves I have many organizers. Some cheap and some expensive. I bought the expensive ones thinking that if I spent more money surely I would use it. The concept was good, but it didn’t work for me.I have one or two entries in all them and then I forget to write anything in them ever again. I’m a pants-ter.

 Maybe I should have been a hippie because I tend go with the flow. It can get a little chaotic at times but hey I don’t need therapy for deviating from my lists. Yep, you’ve got it, I’m a pants-ter and a sticky note queen.

When it comes to writing my stories I’m the same. I listen to the voices in my head and I’m as surprised as anyone when the story comes together and works. My notes are scattered all across my desk on odd pieces of paper. Although some are now written in notebooks too. I have system, it’s an odd one for sure, but it works for me.

I’m hooked on writing. The whole idea of writing a new story still has the power to thrill me. I love being surprised by what my characters do. It’s so exciting when a new character works their way into my mind and won’t let go. It seems to work for me and for now I’ll go with it.

I know others do it differently and I will continue to be impressed by them, but having said that I think it’s too late to change my colors.  I’ve been a pants-ter way too long and it works for me.