Writing, Reading, and Smiling . . . It's Contagious.


Sunday, April 25, 2010

Seanachaí's News

 
On the last Sunday of each month, I compile "Seanachaí's News," a status report that assesses my work during the current month and also formulates my plans for the upcoming months. It will also give you a peek at my works in progress.


My Work During the Current Month

  1. If you enjoy reading poetry, you'll love Part II of "Murmuring that Creeps into the Life of a Wandering Soul."
  2. My books, Dead Bird in the Weeds and Haunted Voices from My Past, were rereleased this month and are now available. Click on the titles for excerpts, ordering information, and more!
  3. If you haven't been to Sunflower Footsteps' new home, be sure to check it out!
  4. Have you watched the new trailer for Dead Bird in the Weeds? I want to thank everyone for their gracious compliments about the film!
  5. "The Moon Does Not Rise Tonight" is my latest short-short and is about much more than the moon.
 

My Plans for the Upcoming Months

  1. I'm currently working as tech support for E. Michaels on the latest title for Sunflower Footsteps. It's entitled Little Duck Gets Ready For School and will be available this summer.

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As always, I love to hear from you. If you’re in the cyber-neighborhood,
drop me a line.

In the meantime, keep writing, reading, and smiling.
It’s contagious.

Sunday, April 18, 2010

"The Moon Does Not Rise Tonight"


Hello, how are you today?

Well, besides battling ants this week (the bread is now hidden in the oven) and buying 392 bars of soap yesterday (it's a long story), I've been swamped with artwork, digitizing and such. As I was working this week, the image of a train kept returning to my thoughts. I've also been haunted by the moon for the past month. No, I'm not losing my mind (that happened a long time ago). I've been trying to capture photos of our only satellite for the past month.

What have I discovered? 
My camera needs more zoom.

What do you get when you cross the moon with a train?
Read further.



"The Moon Does Not Rise Tonight"


3/30/10  Moon through a Cherry Tree
The moon does not rise tonight.

The black sky peeps through the blinds' broken slats and settles upon the nightstand beneath the window. Darkness creeps over the illuminated clock and slithers to the hand flung over the side of the bed. Fingers wriggle from its grasp and  I recall that old class photo--you with your trumpet and bow tie and me with my sad brown eyes and ashen face. Remember the song you wrote for me? Da-di-da-something. Something. I have forgotten the melody. My hand brushes over the other side of the bed. The sheets are cold and unwrinkled.

The moon must not rise tonight.

I drove to those lonely tracks tonight in that rusty blue and white pickup. I waited silently, patiently for that long, mournful whistle. I ate a package of marshmallow bunnies and wiped sugary fingers on cracked leather seats. I was ten minutes early.

I opened the plastic grocery bag again. A tin of cinnamon rested alone in the bottom. Do you know how expensive cinnamon is now? Can you imagine how much we would have spent that first Christmas? We made all of those ornaments of spice and applesauce and there were so many we couldn't hang them all. The tree looked like a bulging brown upside-down sugar cone.

The whistle blew and I opened the door with its creaky hinges. Feet scurried over the soggy moss carpeting the ditch along the tracks. As I was about to lay myself upon the cold, vibrating metal, a car rumbled toward me from the opposite direction. I seem to be too late for most everything.

I glance at the clock on the nightstand. Hours seem as minutes in the darkness. A soft light steals through the crisscrossed blinds and a warm drop of brine spills onto a musty pillow.

The moon has risen tonight.

***

As always, I love to hear from you. If you’re in the cyber-neighborhood,
drop me a line.

In the meantime, keep writing, reading, and smiling.
It’s contagious.

Sunday, April 11, 2010

A Special Sunday


Every day is a gift, but for me this Sunday is special.

Today, both of my novels, Dead Bird in the Weeds and Haunted Voices from My Past have been rereleased and are now available. Not only that, but my colleague's children's books, The Mysterious House and Turtles and Shells and Things, are also available. Click on any of the titles to read excerpts, watch book trailers, and order. Also, be sure to check out Sunflower Footsteps' great new website at www.sunflowerfootsteps.com.

As a special treat, Dead Bird in the Weeds' new book trailer was also released today. Enjoy!







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As always, I love to hear from you. If you’re in the cyber-neighborhood, drop me a line.

In the meantime, keep writing, reading, and smiling.
It’s contagious.

Sunday, April 4, 2010

Murmuring that Creeps into the Life of a Wandering Soul, Part II



Taken on 3/30/10. Though overexposed, I like the effect.
If you follow me on Twitter or Facebook, you know that occasionally I post a haiku I've written to start my day. For me, the melody of a short wandering into nature inspires my creativity and curiosity, essential qualities when writing is the order of the day.

So, picking up where the "Murmuring that Creeps into the Life of a Wandering Soul" left off in November, here is Part II which tiptoes into, sometimes sloshes through, my journey this past autumn and winter. Each one inspired me to write, to dream, and to contemplate. I hope they do the same for you.


you cannot see me
count autumn seeds as I weave
snowflakes on the pond

can you hear the wind?
come away from the window
when gears fray my mind

I have forgotten
whispers that I did not hear
hide but do not lie

cold and innocent
snow melts on my tongue

white blanket glistens
hear the sparkling madness cry
moonlight on the snow

hide from the sunlight
and heed the moonbeams that cry
angels in the snow

snow does not glisten
when seeds rot upon the ground
the juncos have gone

ice runs as rivers
and the sky sheds thawed tears
do not speak of spring

snow melts on maples
and tiny golden speckles
weep onto the field

I dreamed of darkness
man with painted face chased me
then I thought of you


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As always, I love to hear from you. If you’re in the cyber-neighborhood, drop me a line.

In the meantime, keep writing, reading, and smiling.
It’s contagious.