A few choice words always make me happy,
and these words are pretty choice. Enjoy!
😀






A few choice words always make me happy,
and these words are pretty choice. Enjoy!
😀






Back to a more normal routine this week, I hope. Here’s a meme to make you smile,
and another one just because it’s a wonderful quote
from one of my all-time favorite writers,
Ray Bradbury.
Enjoy!
😀


Hi folks,
A quick notification I’d be very grateful if you’d share around your contacts.
I am holding a one week sale of the first in my epic fantasy Five Kingdoms series, award winner, THE PRINCE’S MAN – $0.99/£0.99 or the equivalent across the globe until April 29th.

Think James Bond meets Lord of the Rings…
Rakish royal spy, Rustam, loves his kingdom. When a threat believed long dead proves to be very much alive, he finds himself in the thick of things along with the one woman in the kingdom who despises him. She’s also the royal family’s assassin. Together, they must find a way to save their kingdom – if they can manage not to kill each other first.
In celebration of his 1000th post, Nicholas Rossis is sharing a free short story today. Be sure to check it out, especially if you enjoy time travel tales! 🙂
Yes, this is my thousandth post on this blog!
To celebrate, I’ve decided to post here my short stories. Every couple of weeks, I’ll be posting one story from my celebrated Exciting Destinies series for you to enjoy. With over 30 stories so far, I hope you’ll have lots of fun in the coming months!
I kick off the new series with For The Last Time, one of my favorite stories from The Power of Six.
Click here to read some more free stories.
Truth be told, I have no idea who built the damned contraption. All I know is that, if they were standing in front of me, I would have some choice words for them. Not that I don’t appreciate the technical difficulties of a time machine, let alone one that can fit in a pocket. I’d…
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After ten days of celebrating National Poetry Month (via a glut of my own work 😉 ), I’m wrapping up today with one last poem. It’s the longest one in the book, I think, and it’s the only one I’d call somewhat autobiographical. Many of you know, I’m a nature lover at heart, and enjoy birding, hiking, camping, and for many years–until my back refused to cooperate–canoeing. I can’t tell you how many, many miles I’ve traveled via my trusty Bluebird, but it’s always been my favorite way to enjoy Florida’s rivers. So, this one definitely has a lot of “me” in it.
Thanks to all of you who have read, shared, and taken the time to let me know your thoughts on these little verses. It has been a real boost to my somewhat sagging spirits, as I struggled to get over this wretched cold. You are absolutely the BEST! Now without further ado, here’s my final National Poetry Month offering for your reading pleasure. Hope you enjoy it.
On the River
by Marcia Meara
Crystal green flows beneath me,
Leafy arches rise above,
Dip, glide.
Dip, glide.
Slide.
Duckweed parts as I float by.
I wonder where they went,
Those ducks?
Gone overnight, it seems.
Another parting, another loss,
And I slide by,
Under all that green.
Dip, glide.
Dip, glide.
Just there, in deepest shade,
Sleeping emeralds cling.
Tree frogs rest in their
Smooth, damp skins
Waiting for the silver moon.
They’ll open their eyes for the silver moon.
Sleeping now,
As I pass by.
Dip, glide.
Dip, glide.
With arms raised to that same moon,
I once danced along the shore,
Young and wild and full of joy.
Moving to music
That stirred my soul,
And washed in that pale light,
I danced.
Years ago, in that pale, pale light.
I remember it all,
And so much more,
As I slide by.
Dip, glide.
Dip, glide.
A scaled ribbon of vivid lime
Scribbles across my bow,
Curving by in his own silent slide.
I smile at Dickinson’s “narrow fellow”
Tasting the air with his tongue of flame.
I feel no “zero at the bone” for him,
For I have known far worse than he,
And survived.
With a nod of my head,
I pass him, too.
And on I go.
Dip, glide.
Dip, glide.
Time and time and time goes by,
And still, green fronds protect me from above,
Green water lifts me from below,
Carrying me ceaselessly on my way.
Slower, now that Youth is gone,
Yet, sometimes a froth of foam and spray
Reminds me of those early days,
When all the water rushed clear and cold,
And teemed with Promise so bright
You could almost catch it in your hands.
That bubbling spring where it all began,
Now lies so far behind.
Far behind, and long ago,
While I move on.
Dip, glide.
Dip, glide.
Always forward,
One stroke at a time,
The only path from Here to There.
One stroke following another,
And I, all the while,
Still cherish the trees above,
The water below.
I wonder as a turn grows near,
What adventures wait beyond the bend?
Will they make my heart beat fast again?
How many shimmering curves lie before me yet?
How long does my river flow?
Dip, glide.
Dip, glide.
Dip, glide.
Slide.

Buy Summer Magic Here: Summer Magic: Poems of Life and Love
My poems have also appeared in the following Silver Birch Press Anthologies:
Noir Erasure Poetry Anthology (Silver Birch Press Anthologies Book 5) Kindle Edition http://amzn.to/2B8jhWX
Summer: An Eclectic Anthology of Poetry & Prose (Silver Birch Press Anthologies Book 3) Kindle http://amzn.to/2BhzE4q
SILVER: An Eclectic Anthology of Poetry & Prose (Silver Birch Press Anthologies) Kindle Edition http://amzn.to/2A3XxPb
Green: An Eclectic Anthology of Poetry & Prose (Silver Birch Press Anthologies Book 2) Kindle Edition http://amzn.to/2jTQsdt

This is the poem that started the book, and I hope you like it. I will probably post one more tomorrow, and then try to get back with my “regularly scheduled programming” next week, if all goes well, and I’m able to resume my normal workload. In the meantime, I hope this one makes you smile. 🙂
Summer Magic
by Marcia Meara
Crawling quietly from his tent,
His dad still lost in slumber within,
He sits down alone on the granite slab,
Coltish legs drawn up to his chin,
And arms wrapped around skinny knees.
He gazes toward the pale horizon,
Watching the sleeping valley below.
With breath held in anticipation,
He waits for the magic
He knows will come.
There! A thin curve of molten red!
A far away sliver of fiery light
Breaks the horizon.
Rising slowly,
It bathes the tops of the rolling hills
In a brilliant spill of gold.
Mother-of-pearl dawn
Gives way to butter yellow
Morning light.
In front of his wide, blue eyes,
The world awakens.
Magic arrives and
Day is born,
Again.
He smiles to himself and wraps
His arms more tightly
Around his knees,
Shivering in private delight, and
Holding the beauty
Close within,
Having already learned
Some magic is
Secret.

Buy Summer Magic Here: Summer Magic: Poems of Life and Love
My poems have also appeared in the following Silver Birch Press Anthologies:
Noir Erasure Poetry Anthology (Silver Birch Press Anthologies Book 5) Kindle Edition http://amzn.to/2B8jhWX
Summer: An Eclectic Anthology of Poetry & Prose (Silver Birch Press Anthologies Book 3) Kindle http://amzn.to/2BhzE4q
SILVER: An Eclectic Anthology of Poetry & Prose (Silver Birch Press Anthologies) Kindle Edition http://amzn.to/2A3XxPb
Green: An Eclectic Anthology of Poetry & Prose (Silver Birch Press Anthologies Book 2) Kindle Edition http://amzn.to/2jTQsdt

Wrong season for this one, I suppose, but I trust you’ll forgive me if I share it anyway. 🙂 Though it wasn’t written with them in mind, specifically, it always makes me think of Mac as a badly scarred adult, and Sarah, who showed him the way back. Enjoy!
Indian Summer
Marcia Meara
He sees her standing
Below the falls,
Carefully balanced
On the slippery rocks,
And laughing
In the hazy October sun.
Only yesterday
The ice-rimmed pool
Mirrored angry gray clouds,
And a wind out of the north
Chilled his bones.
Today, a warm yellow sun
Has eaten the frost,
And resurrected the ghost
Of a summer already laid to rest.
She’s wearing shorts,
As if she knew
There would be a reprieve
And dressed accordingly.
Dampened hems, and a
Misty sheen on
Her long, slim legs
Bear testament to
The wind-blown spray.
Her loosened hair is a
Sable cloud swirling
Around her face,
Smelling faintly
Of August nights
And tupelo honey.
She turns toward him,
Radiant and joyful,
Filled with a wonder
Most have long lost.
Her smile invites him
To let go of autumn
To share the sunshine,
To be reborn in this moment.
Surprised, his mouth
Curves in response, and
His soul cries,
Yes, oh yes!
Desperation gives voice
To need long ignored.
Yes, he thinks again,
Walking toward her.
I want the light,
The warmth, the wonder.
Show me, teach me.
He takes her hand, and
Lets the sunlight
Flood his heart,
Thawing the frost within,
Setting him free.

Buy Summer Magic Here: Summer Magic: Poems of Life and Love
My poems have also appeared in the following Silver Birch Press Anthologies:
Noir Erasure Poetry Anthology (Silver Birch Press Anthologies Book 5) Kindle Edition http://amzn.to/2B8jhWX
Summer: An Eclectic Anthology of Poetry & Prose (Silver Birch Press Anthologies Book 3) Kindle http://amzn.to/2BhzE4q
SILVER: An Eclectic Anthology of Poetry & Prose (Silver Birch Press Anthologies) Kindle Edition http://amzn.to/2A3XxPb
Green: An Eclectic Anthology of Poetry & Prose (Silver Birch Press Anthologies Book 2) Kindle Edition http://amzn.to/2jTQsdt

Today’s offering returns to the Mac at Ten section of Summer Magic. Hope you enjoy the images I tried to capture. 🙂
Deep Pockets
by Marcia Meara
He sits cross-legged
On smooth, gray granite
Outside the tent,
And watches the light
Turn from gold to silver,
Caught in that space between
Daylight and dusk,
When all things seem possible,
And the remarkable,
Ordinary.
To hold his day
Longer, closer,
He goes through his pockets,
And chooses memories
To save forever.
He lays out treasures
Found on the trail,
One by one,
In neat rows upon the rock,
And studies each item with
Solemn consideration,
Weighing the merits
Of this over that.
It takes time to decide
Which to take home,
Which to show his mother,
And which he will line up
Along his shelves,
To be looked at
Again and again,
On dreary, gray days
When the warmth of summer
Is a visitor long departed.
Decisions like these
Aren’t made in a moment,
But rather, by pondering
Carefully, thoughtfully.
Here, a feather
Of startling blue,
Found beneath a jay’s
Untidy nest.
And this? This rumpled,
Transparent length,
Imprinted by the scales
Of the snake it once clothed?
His mother will squeal
In pretend horror,
But will smile and relent.
Yes, he thinks.
I’ll keep this one, too.
One by one,
They come out of his pockets
Like rabbits from a magician’s hat.
Pale, blue stones rubbed smooth in the creek.
A snail shell whirled in cream and tan,
Thin as tissue, yet still intact.
A triangular piece of glittery flint,
Sharp and pointed along one side,
Like an arrowhead left unfinished.
Yes, to all of these!
They are mine now,
Part of my summer.
Pockets turned out
To the bottom, he finds —
Half a stick of linty gum,
A rusty key, stuck
In a broken lock.
A pencil stub,
A whistle that doesn’t blow,
And a few unidentified crumbs.
No, and no, and no.
He’s made his choices,
And tucked them away,
In an old plastic box, under his cot.
Maybe he’ll look at them
Long years from now,
Conjuring up these weeks
Spent camping with his dad,
When every day was an adventure,
Captured in the blue of a feather,
Caught in the curve of a shell,
Or a piece of glittery flint.
He’ll think about these
Endless summers, and remember
How simple it all seemed,
When he was a boy
Of ten.

Buy Summer Magic Here: Summer Magic: Poems of Life and Love
My poems have also appeared in the following Silver Birch Press Anthologies:
Noir Erasure Poetry Anthology (Silver Birch Press Anthologies Book 5) Kindle Edition http://amzn.to/2B8jhWX
Summer: An Eclectic Anthology of Poetry & Prose (Silver Birch Press Anthologies Book 3) Kindle http://amzn.to/2BhzE4q
SILVER: An Eclectic Anthology of Poetry & Prose (Silver Birch Press Anthologies) Kindle Edition http://amzn.to/2A3XxPb
Green: An Eclectic Anthology of Poetry & Prose (Silver Birch Press Anthologies Book 2) Kindle Edition http://amzn.to/2jTQsdt
A great post from Craig Boyack on the Story Empire Blog, explaining his system for organizing his storylines. Easier (and probably more organic) than a full-on outline, yet a way to stay on track. I’m definitely giving this one a try! Check it out for yourself. 🙂
This post was a special request, and I’m happy to explain my process. I’m going to ask you pantsers to read it too. I may not change your mind, but you might glean a tip or two anyway. Today, we’re going to talk about outlining, but we’re going to do it my way.
Remember the old scientific outline we learned in junior high? It’s basically worthless here, so don’t panic. We aren’t doing anything like that today.
I like to follow a three act structure, but there are other methods you can adapt. The biggest change is to start storyboarding. No more Roman numerals, indents, and lower case progression.
I’m going to place the image here, then we’re going to talk about it.

I use a virtual cork board called Pinnic. I used to use Corkulous Pro, but it doesn’t seem to be around any longer. They tell me one…
View original post 1,003 more words

Another change of pace for today’s offering. (Are you getting tired of these yet? Hope not.) This one is from the second half of the book, and I hope it touches some of you. ❤
Promises
By Marcia Meara
Up we climb again, My Love
On yet another autumn day,
Our trail meandering, higher, higher,
Amidst October’s blazing glory.
The pines are dressed in mossy green,
And glowing maples shed flaming leaves,
Keeping us brilliant company
Under the blue silk sky.
Remember our first time
Climbing this trail?
My God, we were young, and
Filled with each other!
You held my hand, and urged me on.
Wait until we’re there, you said,
Just wait! You’ll see it’s worth the climb.
And it was, My Love.
Oh, it was!
We stood at the top,
Locked in warm embrace,
Our hair, whipped by the wind,
Our hearts triumphant.
Gazing across the rolling hills,
Your radiant face was lit with pride,
As though you had created
All this wonder
Just for me—a wedding gift!
A thing of splendor our hearts shared,
Over and over, every autumn.
Our place. Ours alone,
As though no other lovers
Ever climbed this way.
Years and years ago, it was,
That first ecstatic, heavenward climb.
Yet here we are once more, My Own,
Returning to this ancient spot.
Proving some things do prevail—
Deepest faith, and promises
Sworn in love
Abide,
Just as the land before us does,
Rolling on into eternity.
Take me back, you begged,
Back to our mountain.
I will, My Love, I swear it.
I will.
And here we are.
I’ll keep my promise. No tears today.
But oh, for another smile, another kiss!
Another chance to see your face,
To touch your cheek, to hold your hand.
Gone by so fast, like wind-blown leaves,
All our precious hours and minutes!
But didn’t we use them well, My Love?
Oh, yes! We used them well!
My heart in pieces, I let you go,
And watch as you drift away,
A swirl of grey against the blue.
Your soul soaring, riding the wind,
Then settling lower over the valley,
As you become one
With our hills.
And someday, My Love, my only love,
You’ll feel my soul come drifting down,
To rest with yours once more,
Part of the earth in this sacred place,
You and I, together.
Forever.

Buy Summer Magic Here: Summer Magic: Tales of Life and Love
My poems have also appeared in the following Silver Birch Press Anthologies:
Noir Erasure Poetry Anthology (Silver Birch Press Anthologies Book 5) Kindle Edition http://amzn.to/2B8jhWX
Summer: An Eclectic Anthology of Poetry & Prose (Silver Birch Press Anthologies Book 3) Kindle http://amzn.to/2BhzE4q
SILVER: An Eclectic Anthology of Poetry & Prose (Silver Birch Press Anthologies) Kindle Edition http://amzn.to/2A3XxPb
Green: An Eclectic Anthology of Poetry & Prose (Silver Birch Press Anthologies Book 2) Kindle Edition http://amzn.to/2jTQsdt
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