In March 16th, Salt Lake City residents woke up at 7:09 to a 5.7 Earthquake. Buildings in downtown Salt Lake City lost bricks. Pictures fell from walls, items tumble over, and down from shelves. Over 30 houses were displaced from their foundations in the West Valley area, and walls came down in several buildings within the city. But at the epic centers; Magna, Utah, the old buildings that graced main street suffered the some damage.
Here’s the thing… hearts are already pounding against our chests. Stress is huge boulders sitting on our shoulders, and then… Ah, hello! Make the earth move under our feet and pictures shake off of our shelves because the Corona-virus isn’t enough. Lets throw an earthquake upon the nice people of Salt Lake County. It’s just what they needed. NOT!
I had finally slept in. The first time since the virus situation began. The bed began to move. Not gently, not like when the kitten jumps up to demand breakfast, or the dog takes a flying leap on top of me to say that a walk outside would be appreciated. This was a shake that told me something was wrong. The picture hanging on the wall above my head was actually slapping the wallboard behind it. Yep… that bad. I was up and dressed so fast, the dog would have been impressed except he was hiding somewhere else inside the house. He was scared out of his mind. 5.7 followed by over 200 after shocks, one 4.6 and a few 4.3, and on and on…
Dang happy when then came down to just a little shake and hummm
We had a blast in the red rock country of Kanab Utah. The weather was a beautiful 70s, and the sky was clear. Fabulous environment for writers of every genre to gather and pitch or learn more about their craft.
Sandy Rowland and I stayed at the Perry Hotel, known for the elaborate list of ‘elite’ guest who have stayed there during the filming of hundreds of westerns. The likes of John Wayne, Roy Rogers, Clint Walker, and James Gardner just to name a few. It was a delight to walk through the lobby and see all the pictures of those who had slept there.
Then, just opening was the new “Conference Center,” right across the street. In fact, our conference was the first one to open the doors to future conferences, and may I say, it is a very nice center, too. The rooms are nice. The catering was great, and the Honey’s Marketplace in Kanab was terrific. In fact, the best little Grocery Store in America, frankly. Honey’s helped our conference coordinators with extraordinary care!!!
Sandy and I both had pitches. I talked to two full-service small press companies; Pink Umbrella and Immortal Press and Sandy received a request from Lisa Mangum with Shadow Mountain. It was a super sweet turn out for both of us.
The classes were great. From Mystery, to selling high during the holidays. From using sounds to mind health and how to make your ending not suck. All was ideal. Next year, the Conference will follow Veterans Day. Sandy and I both will be there. November 12-14, 2020. Starting again with a beautiful hike with Raven. 👍
No Fireplace is Needed: is a story that came from a question my darling daughter asked me when she was six years old.
“Mommy, we don’t got a fireplace. So, how will Santa be able to leave my good girl toys under the Christmas tree?”
I too, had to wonder about that one. I looked around our house and worried that it would certainly be hard for jolly ‘ole Santa to leave his wrapped packages beneath our Christmas Tree.
You see, I dare not leave a key beneath the mat outside our front door. Honestly, I couldn’t think that Santa had the time to get out of the sleigh, find the key, open the door, step inside, then close and lock the door behind him. Especially since we didn’t live in a very good neighborhood.
So, after a long period of time, I thought about the special magic that Santa brings with him.
Here is a special Jolly ‘ole Man, who travels the world in one night and delivers special gifts to every good little girl and boy, how could one little problem like a house without a fireplace stop him? Well, it just couldn’t.
In “No Fireplace Is Needed,” Santa finds a special way to deliver gifts into even my little home.
Where have I been… thinking I can do nine things at once. Guess what. (pink cheeks and eyes toward the ceiling) I can’t. That’s right. But I did get this out by the 25th. I just never made it back to the computer to brag about it… Noodle time.
But its OUT, UP, and ABLE to be purchased. Whether you want it through Amazon or the mail, it be available. I am tickle with the way this turned out. Truly darling pictures and not a one too scary. Hey, I am a wimp and I did have my doubts. If it scared me, would it scare a little dude? Probably not, they can handle a lot more then me. I scream when kittens jump out at me! I’m not kidding.
Anyway, here it be… a fun little book about a Halloween Parade and the adventure you’ll see as my buddy’s, Dracula, the Wolf-man, Frankenstein and Elvira the witch make a trip down a sidewalk one Halloween evening.
May you have a wonderful day this October 1st. 2019. I’m pulling out all my cute, and scary, Halloween decorations. Join me and decorated your home too.
I couldn’t be more excited… well, yes I can. I have two more children’s books in the production line, if I completed them; I’d be ecstatic. Ah, let me restart this… I am really excited to say that the book I’ve been writing for the last, ah four months has reached its conclusion. Mommy’s in the Military is short. Only 16 pages, but it has gone every which way but head first into file 13.
Parental separation is a consistent situation in America. With the chaos overseas and in the middle-east, I’m lucky. Surprised, but lucky that no one in my immediate family is going through this right now. My niece’s son joined the military and reported when he graduated from high school, So, to say that I’ve experienced what my antagonist has gone through is false. But I have witnessed the pain that a child feels when a parent leaves for deployment. The bravery a small tyke goes through when mom/dad walks away from him/her to join up with their crew, is heart twisting.
And then, the words like an arrow through your heart; “How come I can’t go?” Or “How come I have to stay here?” And the (knock you to the floor) killer, “What did I do? I’ll fix it. I promise. Just don’t go. Please.” And, if they’ve grasped the situation just enough, they ask, “How long are you gonna be gone?” “Can you call me?”
But go, they do. It’s not a request. Orders from the military aren’t a maybe or, “hey, when you get a chance, pop on down, would ya?”
I love this country. We do what we can to keep our country free and safe.
I look at my sweet grand-babies and realize the years have flown.
When these two graciously joined our family, we waved the ‘1900’s’ a favorable farewell, and the ‘2000’ a curious welcome. The computer age was tip toeing into the Y2K. How would the Millennium go? The economy needed a medical injection of jobs. And we had elected George W. Bush over Al Gore.
The Concorde crashed in France. The tires of Air France Flight 4590 hit a metal object on the runway during the flights take off at the Charles de Gaulle Airport in Paris.
The summer Olympics were held in Sydney, Australia. Tiger Woods was the youngest player to win the Grand Slam in golf and the Mad Cow Disease caused alarm in Europe because of the increase in occurrences in America. But, the most tragic incident to happen was on September 11th, 2001, just 5 months short of America hosting the winter Olympics in Utah, three buildings were brought down by terrorists, determined to kill as many Americans as possible. Two planes flew into two of the World Trade buildings in New York City and another flew into part of the Pentagon, in Washington D.C. Along with United Airlines 93. It crashed into a field in Somerset County, Pennsylvania, during an attempt by the passengers and crew to regain control over four terrorists.
Approximately 2,296 deaths took place that day. What a horrible act to take against innocent people. The terrorists tell us its in the name of their Al Qeada. They’re lacking intelligence, unfortunately.
He found the land to be good and so it became ‘Deseret.’The main man, President Brigham Young look down over the valley and said, “This is the place! Drive on.” The President was stricken with Rocky Mountain fever, an illness spread by ticks and characterized by chills, a hacking cough, severe headaches, acute pains throughout the body, fevers, and delirium, proved debilitating but he survived.
He, along with his pioneer company trekked across hundreds of miles over rough terrain escaping prosecution from Nauvoo, they proceeded west. Through loss, frost, and constant turmoil, they came upon a beautiful desert valley. It is said that Mr. Young declared it the perfect area for them to settle within this safe area with mountains surrounding it, and so they did. And soon Mormonism spread. They erected a temple, churches popped on almost every street corner. Corruption and murder reared its ugly head. When they went to declare themselves as a state, the government realigned their borders to the size it is today. Before the state could join the union, they had to forbid the practice of polygamy in their religion, which they did, publicly. In January 4th, 1896. Although January is their union date, they celebrate the date that Brigham Young looked down upon the valley and chose this state as their end to their religious trek to celebrate.
Hi, welcome to a young and fresh blog site. I’m looking forward to renewing myself into the unique field of writing Children’s Picture Books and working with illustrators. In fact, I’ve recently completed my first book.
It’s been a while since I wrote. I’m working back through my middle grade books with Max and Darcy. Max’s is brushing off his shoulders and straightening his tie for his coming out party, and Darcy’s dolling herself up for the prom. Their adventures will come out soon.
Now that I’ve taken my head out of the sand, I’ve wondered if that was a sane idea. I listen to the loony news and hear about the wiggly world of despise, political espionage, contempt, and dreadful manners, and realize… I’m happy to be writing to the smartest individuals in the universe. Youngsters from two to twelve. They are the true brains of this world.