When a newspaper editor asked me if I’d be interested in writing a column for the paper, and went on to say I could publish stories I’d stock-piled, even my fiction, in the form of a series, that is when I became excited and answered, yes!
The excitement grew stronger when I actually saw the title to one of my favorite stories in the local paper. And it was really great when friends told me they read the first installment and couldn’t wait to read the conclusion.
My excitement went over the top when my grandson, who is a high school senior, told me his friends read it and then he proceeded to tell me through Facebook what a talented author I am. How awesome! Readers of all ages! Talk about a pleased grandma!
I’m so thankful the editor of the Van Buren County Democrat showed an interest in my writing because I certainly am interested in writing the column for my hometown weekly newspaper—the Van Buren County Democrat!
“Call of the Cadron” is the title of my book. The Cadron is the name of a creek in Arkansas, which is the setting for this fictional story that takes place in 1983.
Here is an excerpt:
(Garrett remembered her face in the moonlight that night beside the creek as its waters sang in hushed tones. You are my love, Jordan, and you must meet me at the place where hearts unite despite the obstacles. You must, Jordan. I hear our destiny in the singing of the Cadron. Surely, you can hear it, too, my darling.)
For a chance to win a copy of my book, look for the post, “Call of the Cadron–Give-Away” and leave a comment in the comment section below the post. Winner will be announced Monday. Thanks. #giveawaybook
My blog seems to have turned into pictures, prose and poetry.
As an amateur photographer, I love picking that one good shot out of ten snaps.
I feel the same about poetry. I might write ten in order to get one that interests an editor or a contest judge. Pictures and poems are fun to work with, but fiction is my favorite type of writing. When I was a teenager, I attempted to write short stories. Probably I still have some of them in my files. I don’t know why I like to write. But the desire and dream to write became a part of me when I wrote my first poem on that Big Chief tablet, at age nine.
I continued to write stories after I married. But when the children began to arrive, my writing dream and time for it disappeared beneath Birdseye diapers and was lost in rock-a-bye-baby tunes as I nurtured four babies. Not all at once, mind you, but spaced just far enough apart to keep me in mommy mode from the firstborn’s arrival until the last one left home. Those years were the best years of my life, but when the nest was empty, I clicked over to writing mode and began my adventure into the publishing world. Writing is not a hobby, it is my destiny. Although I have only a humble beginning of published works, the venture has been worthwhile. As a mommy, or as a writer, you gotta believe in your babies. It’s just as the country song says, “Mamas, don’t let your babies grow up to be cowboys.” So writers, “Don’t let your stories stay too long in your files. Find them a home on the shelf.” –Freeda Baker Nichols
Red coals glow among gray ashes in the fireplace. A log tumbles and sparks flame into an orange blaze. Suddenly the room is filled with a warm, tranquil atmosphere. I don’t feel warm or calm, right now. But I realize why I came back to San Saba. I came to end something . . . so that I can begin my life anew. Without Whit.
From this day forward . . . without you, Whit Langley, I promise–I’ll get by.
The main character in my short story is Calypso, an artist from Texas, who has lived in California for nineteen years. The story is told from her viewpoint, and in present tense. The following lines are Calypso’s thoughts as she walks along a beach.
(The ocean fascinates me. Growing up in Texas, I seldom ventured to the coast. The first time I came to California, I fell in love with the blue, lapping waves. I love to smell the wet sand and to search for unusual shells. Sea gulls and sandpipers are so much fun to watch. Moving about on wiry legs, the sandpipers peck and probe into the sand with their short bills. When they take flight, they sound a piping-like cry of ‘twee-wee-wee.’ The gulls glide majestically above the water. Marine life is interesting, too. And snorkeling is still an adventure for me. Critters of all kinds swim in close to the shore.)