Trisha Sugarek's Blog, page 118

Join me at my Book Signing on Saturday!

BOOK SIGNING

            Shaver Book Sellers, on Madison Square here in Savannah has invited this author to hold a book signing.

              This event will begin at

 2PM on Saturday, November 17th.

              Shaver’s carries all of Sugarek’s children’s books, her poetry and her novel, “Women Outside the Walls”.  Also available will be most of her play scripts.

Come by and say “hello” and enjoy this historic, iconic book store that is  locally owned and operated.  Enjoy a beautiful fall day in Madison Square.

 

Shaver’s Booksellers

326 Bull Street (Madison Square)

Savannah

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Blogging my novel…”Women Outside the Walls” (part 26)

Chapter 12 (cont’.)

………“Ruby, take Stella and Lamar and go watch some TV” Hattie told her children.

“But, Ma, I’m starving!” complained Lamar.

“Take your dinner plates with you. Go on now, hurry up. Load up those plates and go watch some T.V. And, Ruby, turn the sound up; I want to be able to hear it in here.”

“Yes, Ma’am.” Ruby replied. She knew that when the TV was turned up it was time for grown-up talk. Never, never had any of them ever questioned Hattie’s rule.

Hattie got a bag of frozen peas out of the freezer and slapped it on Elgin’s forehead where a goose egg was starting to rise. Lamar and Stella filled their plates and, followed by Ruby, they left the kitchen. In a moment, Hattie heard the television go on in the living room.

“Now, what’s this all about?” Hattie asked Elgin.

“Oh, Hattie, yur’ gonna kill me. I’m so sorry, but I know Joe’s gonna be all right.”

“Joe? What’s he got to do with any of your shenanigans? Joe, he at work,” Hattie insisted.

Elgin put his head in his hands and moaned. The kitchen was silent.

Hattie sighed. “You best tell me all of it Elgin.”

Elgin raised his head, tears glistened in his eyes. “I asked Joe to pick me up after he got off work. Told him I needed a ride to the store. I was meetin’ JC and Rat there. We was…..we was…”

“Go on, boy, spit it out,” Hattie insisted.

“We was gonna rob it.” Elgin hung his head.

“WHAT!?”

“We was gonna rob it but there must’a been a silent alarm ‘cause all hell broke loose; cop cars pulled up out front and JC, Rat, and me, we barely made it outta the back door.”

“We ran down an alley and jumped a fence and I fell on my face and almost got caught.”

Hattie stared at him in horror. “Where’s Joe?” Elgin didn’t answer and Hattie shook him by his arm.

“WHAT HAPPENED TO MY JOE?” She yelled.

“The cops got him.” Elgin whispered.

“Oh, sweet Jesus, NO!”

“It’ll be okay, Hattie. Joe didn’t have nothin’ to do with this. He’ll tell the cops that. They’ll let him go.” Elgin explained.

“You don’t know that, Elgin. How could you? Gettin’ Joe involved in a robbery! He’s your brother! He’s got four chil’un to take care of.”

“I know, Hattie, I know. I’m sorry.”

“You sorry all right…sorry as you can be,” Hattie’s voice dripped with scorn. “Ya’ll couldn’t wait to get to the big city. We took you in. Gave ya bed n’board ‘till you got yourself situated. Joe hep’ you get a job. Not our fault if’n ya done lost it.”

“I’m so sorry, Hattie.” Elgin hung his head.

Hattie picked up his hand and slapped it on the bag of frozen peas on his head. She stepped to the hallway. “Ruby! Come here please, right away.”

Ruby’s footsteps hurried down the hall and she entered the kitchen. “Yes, Mama?”

“Get the first aid kit out from under the sink, Ruby. Put some peroxide on this here cut and a big Band-Aid. I have to go out for awhile. Give your uncle some’a Joe’s clean clothes. And don’t ask your uncle Elgin no questions,” Hattie said and then turned to Elgin. “As for you, I want you outta my house in ten minutes.”

“You is not to talk to my chil’un. Not a word about dis here mess. And Elgin, it breaks my ol’ heart to say this, but don’t come back.”

Hattie sat in a chair, slipped on her shoes, quickly lacing them up, and rose.

“Ruby, you in charge like always, get the young un’s to bed and when JJ come in you feed him. And tell him to stay at home. I’ll be back soon as I can.”

As Hattie rushed out of the kitchen to the front door, Ruby hollered, “But, Mom…”

“No ‘buts’ now girl, you do as I say. You keeps the chil’ren in the house, ya hear?” The front door slammed on Hattie’s last words.

 

The next segment will appear Friday .  Hope you return to find out what happens to Joe and Hattie and the other women outside the walls…..

To receive each segment sign up for my blog.  Go to the home page; Scroll down to a box where you can enter your email address. Click on “join my blog”. When you get an email from ‘Writer at Play’ be certain to confirm.  Thanks!

PS. my blogs about writing will continue on Tues. and Thurs.

What do you do with a great Review?

Stop!  Enjoy!  Writing is a lonely business….oh sure, family and friends read our stuff (sometimes reluctantly) and sometimes they really like what we’ve done!  LOL  But, a good (or great, if we’re so lucky) review from someone who doesn’t sleep in the bed next to us, or sit across the Thanksgiving table from us, or see us at work every day; that’s a rare validation that keeps us writers doing what we do.    Perhaps non-writers don’t know this but most of us who put pen to paper have no idea whether or not what we write is good or worthy of your attention and when we put it out there we hold our breath while it is judged.

The fine folks at BookReview.com have written a thorough (and very complimentary review of “Ten Minutes to Curtain”. Scroll down to take a gander, or click here to read it on the original site.

 

Teen Fiction 

Title: Ten Minutes to Curtain! A Collection of Short Plays for the Young Actor

Author: Trisha Sugarek

Rating:  Must Read!

Publisher: CreateSpace.com

Web Page: www.amazon.com

Reviewed by: Eric Jones

Trisha Sugarek is a writer after my own heart. Her work is an ode to life meant to introduce children to the wonders and horrors that make life worth living. Ranging in length and production value, many of her plays invoke the feel of the old morality plays, and inherit their sense of distinction. They have been collected under the aptly titled, “Ten Minutes to Curtain”, and reading them back to back encourages them to be performed together as they flow exceedingly well from the first story of 1920’s poverty, to her final comedy about a loving, and unusual, modern housewife’s bizarre meeting with a multi-millionaire.

“Ten Minutes to Curtain” contains ten mini-dramas meant for middle school or high school production. They are appropriately simple in construction and complex in conflict, lending great emphasis on the characters established in each play. While Sugarek offers brief explanations on the stage sets, she sharply leaves them open to interpretation, allowing for many of the plays to be performed on a blank canvas as might be necessary in a class room or school yard.

“Love Never Leaves Bruises” is the pinnacle of Sugarek’s dramatic angle, and occurs at the peak of the book’s arc. It revolves around an abusive high school relationship between a boy and girl, and the emotional battle that the girl fights with her mother. While being representative of a classic case of high school hormonal imbalance, the play puts a major problem on its face and demonstrates to kids how harmless dating can quickly turn dangerous.

But Sugarek is not content to keep all of her plays in a setting familiar to the children who will be performing them. Her plays encourage an exploration of both time and emotion. “Pan of Potatoes”, “La Verne and Mr. Service”, and “The Waltz” all take place during the 1920s, and while dealing with situations that children can relate to; poverty, dance parties, and poetry, they also introduce them to the work of Robert Service, as well as the social constructs of other periods.

Sugarek’s master work can be cut up and performed in the segments that make up the larger work, but I believe that they would be best served in performance back to back.  The over arching theme is that of children’s natural conflict with parents as they grow older.  It’s an astonishing work that finds a way to say so much with so little, and turns the bare stage into every young man and woman’s living room. A perpetual battle ground for issues of trust and mistrust, laughter and misery, overwhelming loss and astounding triumph. ~~BookReview.com

We writers are very self-critical……but remember to stop and enjoy the successes….something that you know is well written….your book sales….or a review that tells you that you are on the right track.  You deserve it!!

 

Blogging my novel…”Women Outside the Walls” (part 25)

Chapter 12 (con’t.)

….I think the teacher was talking about a scrapbook. And yes, you do save ‘scraps’ in it….scraps of memories and special times. Like the Mother’s Day card you made for me, Stella”

Hattie caressed the front cover of the book decorated with kittens romping through some spring flowers. “Now I have somewhere to keep it forever. In my scrapbook.” Hattie hugged her. “Thank you darlin’ I’ll be cherishin’ this forever.”

Stella turned to her brother. “See, Lamar, Mommy does so like it. It’s not a dumb idea like you said.”

“Is too.” mumbled Lamar.

“When’s your brother comin’ home, Ruby?” Hattie asked choosing to ignore the younger ones’ squabble.

“He called earlier and said to go ahead and keep a plate warm for him. He didn’t know what time he’d be home.” Ruby poured the pasta from the colander into a large bowl. “Okay, this ‘bout ready. Lamar, get the milk outta the fridge. What would you like to drink, Mommy?

“Oh just some water be fine.” Hattie started to rise. “Here, I’ll get it.”

Stella jumped off Hattie’s lap. “Stay there, Mommy, I’ll get it.”

She ran to the cupboard to get a glass down. Ruby was right behind her to help as the cupboard where the glasses were kept was too high for Stella to reach them. “Be careful squirt,” she told her. Stella went to the sink and filled the glass. Then, holding it with both hands, she walked carefully back to Hattie’s place and set it down.

“Thank you, darlin’. You’re such a good helper.” Hattie said.

In the meantime, Ruby had placed the big steaming bowls of pasta and sauce on the table. She took a bowl of salad out of the refrigerator and brought it to the table.

Lamar sat down and said, “‘Bout time.” and reached for the spoon sticking out of the pasta.

Hattie gently laid a hand on Lamar’s arm. “Grace first, Lamar.”

“Jeez, Ma, I’m starved!”

“Grace first,” Hattie said in a firmer tone. “Let’s bow our heads and give thanks. Heavenly Father, we thank you for what we are about to….”

The front door slammed and heavy footsteps could be heard starting down the hall.

Hattie called out. “JJ, we’s all in the kitchen and you just in time for a hot dinner.”

The prayer forgotten momentarily, Hattie looked toward the door leading into the kitchen. Ruby rose and, crossing to the cupboards, reached for an extra dinner plate. She turned and began walking back to the table. Joe’s younger brother Elgin, not JJ, stood in the doorway. Ruby stood frozen staring at her uncle, the plate slipping from her hands and shattering on the floor. Elgin’s face was covered with blood, his clothing ripped and dirty. Stella began to cry.

“Cool. Ya been in a fight, Uncle Elgin?” Lamar asked.

Hattie jumped up, with a little scream, and rushed to Elgin, grabbing a dish towel from the counter.

“What on earth has happened to you, boy? Are you all right? Ruby, call 911! Stella, baby, stop your cryin’, your uncle’s gonna be okay.”

“NO! No 911, no police!” Elgin cried.

Hattie pushed Elgin into a chair. “Sit down here, Elgie.” Hattie said, using a childhood nickname. Elgin flinched as she began cleaning his wound. There was a lot of blood but the only injury Hattie could find was a cut over his eye.

“Ruby-girl, get me a cool, wet rag.”

Ruby brought her mother the dampened rag and Hattie continued to clean Elgin’s face.

“What happened to ya? You fightin’ again?” Hattie asked.

“No.” Elgin winced as she cleaned the cut with some anticeptic.

“Well then, what happened to ya?”

“Got into a little bit of trouble. I gotta get outta here…out of town. Can I have some clean clothes, Hattie?” Elgin asked.

“Not unless ya’ll tell me what’s goin’ on. You in what kind’a trouble, Elgin?” said Hattie.

Elgin was silent. How did he tell Hattie?

“Elgin, you best tell me what you been up to and you best tell me right now. Joe and me can probably fix it if you tell me the tru’t.” Elgin looked up into Hattie’s eyes at the mention of Joe’s name and dread filled her heart…..

*****

The next segment will appear Wednesday.  Hope you return to find out what happens to Joe and Hattie…..

To receive each segment sign up for my blog.  Go to the home page; Scroll down to a box where you can enter your email address. Click on “join my blog”. When you get an email from ‘Writer at Play’ be certain to confirm.  Thanks!

PS. my blogs about writing will continue on Tues. and Thurs.

 

Book Signing next Saturday

BOOK SIGNING

Shaver Book Sellers, on Madison Square here in Savannah has  invited this author  to hold a

book signing.

This event will begin at  2PM   next Saturday, November 17th.

Shaver’s carries all of Sugarek’s children’s books, her poetry and her novel, “Women Outside the Walls”.  Also available will be most of her play scripts.

Come by and say “hello” and enjoy this historic, iconic book store that is locally owned and operated.

 

Shaver’s Booksellers 326 Bull Street (Madison Square) Savannah

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Blogging my novel…”Women Outside the Walls” (part 24)

Chapter 12

Hattie ~ two years earlier

Hattie walked down the pathway to building number thirteen in the tenement. It was a village of twenty buildings all identical in color and squalor. She reflected on where her life had led her since leaving Clayhatchee, Alabama.

As long as I’ve lived here, Hattie thought to herself, I wouldn’t be able to find my own buildin’ if it weren’t for dat’ large thirteen painted on all four sides. No matter which direction you come from, after getting off dat train, you can see dem’ numbers. And dat cold, grey concrete each building was made of with them blind eyes for windows was downright spooky. Inside our apartment I hears the trains at all hours, as they thunder past. If there had been any grass growin’ it had been trampled to death years ago.

When I first come up north, I thought everybody would have a little shotgun house with a patch ‘a garden in the back like back home, she mused. Lordy, I do miss my little cottage with the green trim. But with my Joe’s hours being cut in half there was no way we could afford it anymore. Oh well, no sense in dwellin’ on what can’t be changed. And I certainly don’t want Joe to ever know I feel this way. He has enough to deal with; what with working two jobs to provide for me and the kids. She sighed as she walked up the steps to the front door.

Hattie checked the mail box and pulled out coupon circulars and a couple of bills. Wearily she walked across the small lobby and into the elevator.  She tried her best to ignore the sticky floor and the graffiti on the walls. At least maintenance had finally fixed the light. She worked extra hours, cleaning for women who were too lazy or too busy to clean their own messes.  What was it about the rich? Couldn’t they, at the very least, pick up ‘dem wet towels and put dem in the hamper? Lord knew it was hard to get dat sour smell out of dem when they’d been lying on the floor for a couple of days or until I get der.

Exiting the elevator, she walked down the long dark hallway to number ten-twenty three and put her key in the lock. She couldn’t wait to get her shoes off.  Stella, her youngest, pulled the door open.

“Mommy!” Stella threw herself into Hattie’s arms. She yelled over her shoulder, “Mommy’s home!”

“Hi baby-girl, how was your day?” Hattie asked.

“I made a paper book for you, Mommy, a real book with a pretty cover.…ya wanna see it?” Stella said.

“I would love to see it, baby. Where’s Ruby and your brothers?” asked Hattie.

“Ruby and Lamar is in the kitchen. We’ve been helpin’ Ruby. And JJ’s at the practice.”

Stella skipped down the hallway in front of Hattie and turned into her bedroom. Hattie walked on to the kitchen at the back of the apartment. “Something smells good,” Hattie said as she entered.

Ruby stood at the stove. She was a mature sixteen year old with café latté skin and braided, black hair. Her best feature was her expressive almond shaped eyes.

“Hi Mom, I’ve got the gravy goin’ and the water’s hot for the noodles. I thought I’d get a start on dinner for you.”

Hattie walked over to her daughter and kissed her cheek. “Aren’t ya’ll the sweetest? It smells real good, Ruby.”

“It’s out of a jar, but I threw in some chopped tomatoes and onions and some of that I-tal-yun sausage you bought. Hope it tastes okay,” Ruby told her mother.

“Did your father call?” Hattie asked.

“No not yet. Is he workin’ extra late?”

Hattie frowned. “He didn’t say so this mornin’.”

“Hi Mommy.” Hattie’s son, Lamar stood there with a fist full of silverware. “When’s dinner gonna be ready, Ruby? I’m starved!” Lamar was tall and lanky with horn rimmed glasses and a tight Afro. He looked like a younger version of his father.

“I told ya already, it’ll be ready when it’s ready,” Ruby told her brother. “You get on with setting the table or it’s never gonna be ready. Now, Mommy, sit down there and get your shoes off. We got this under control.”

“That sounds like a fine idea to me,” Hattie sank into a kitchen chair and unlaced her white nurses shoes. She hated how big her feet looked in them. Always remind me of two big white row boats when I looks down at my feet. But the support is jus’ fine so I guess I don’ care about them row boats at the end of my legs.

Stella ran into the room holding a book in both hands. She was a lively child with a big bright smile. A dozen barrettes danced in her hair. She rushed up to Hattie and plunked herself into her Mother’s lap.

“My stars, baby-girl, ya’ll gettin’ so big ya hardly fit here in this tired old lap anymore. Wha’cha got there?” Hattie gave her daughter a squeeze.

“I made this for you, Mommy. See? It’s a book without any writin’ in it. I can’t remember what the teacher called it. A something-book. You’re supposed to put ‘scraps’ in it. But that don’t sound right; why would you want to save scraps in a book? You already save ‘em in the fridge or throw ‘em in the alley for the cats.” Stella’s merry brown eyes gazed up at her mother. Hattie laughed and kissed her daughter…….

                                                                                          ******

The next segment will appear Monday.  Hope you return to find out what happens to these  women living outside the walls…..

To receive each segment sign up for my blog.  Go to the home page; Scroll down to a box where you can enter your email address. Click on “join my blog”. When you get an email from ‘Writer at Play’ be certain to confirm.  Thanks!

PS. my blogs about writing will continue on Tues. and Thurs.

 

Review: “Solomon’s Oak”

[image error]      Ranking: 5 quills  ***    Jo-Ann Mapson’s brilliant new offering is just that;  BRILLIANT!  If you love broken dogs, horses and people this is the novel for you.  Mapson makes us care about people we’d rather not see; the lost, the broken, the confused and makes us love them and rejoice for them.  Families that consists of people, dogs, and horses, all rescued in their own way.

“Solomon’s Oak” is filled with a rich cast of real characters, right down to the dogs.  As I turned the last page I was disappointed that I wouldn’t find out what happens next………the mark of a wonderfully engaging book.  Only to discover the “Finding Casey” had just been released and it was a sequel to this book!

You can buy or borrow any of Mapson’s books and be assured of a great read!  I’ve read all of hers and there isn’t a bad one in the bunch.  The mark of a truly great writer!

 

Midwest Book Review Loves Bertie and the Bullies

[image error]                        Midwest Book Review ** Children’s Bookwatch  (November 2012)

“Bertie the Bookworm and the Bully Boys” is book III in the Fabled Forest Series, written for children ages 1-12, an illustrated early chapter book for excited pre-novella readers. A cast of familiar but colorful magical forest characters parade through this gentle teaching tale about bullying, the value of literacy, and ageism.

All the Fabled Forest residents who wish to attend a regular spelling and reading circle with Bertie the Bookworm, a wise forest elder. However Slam and his group of bully boys have repeatedly disrupted this learning circle with their behavior. Cheets, an adorable elf who is testing the difference between right and wrong, needs to learn a lesson about tolerance and choosing not to aid in bullying. Will Bertie be allowed to continue his literacy teaching without harassment? Will Pansy, a pixie who defends literacy and truth and also Bertie, be able to help Cheets learn to make wise choices in behavior and friends? Many nods to familiar fairytale characters weave in and out of the story gracefully, and the magical Fabled Forest is a good learning ground for all. Children of middle school age will enjoy this combination of fantasy and reality in a good manners and literacy teaching package. The colorful illustrations add just the right touch of mystery and fantasy to the story.  ~~ Midwest Book Review

 

 

Blogging my Novel…”Women Outside the Walls” (part 23)

Chapter 11 (con’t.)

……..Kitty laughed. “Isn’t it? If it had been our leg that was broken in two places it would take us months to recover. Bradley, would you be so kind as to call up and let our husbands know we’re here?”

“Sure thing, Mrs. Lancaster.” As Brad raised the telephone receiver to call, “Let’s see, table three, Mrs. Lancaster. Mrs. Washington, you’re table number four.”

“Thank you, Bradley.” Kitty said.

“Mr. Brad, do you think it would be all right if Mrs. Lancaster and I sit together ‘til our men come on down?”

“No problem, Mrs. Washington. Just move to your assigned table when you’re husbands get here.”

“Thank you.” Both women spoke at once and walked over to Hattie’s table. Sitting down next to each other Kitty took Hattie’s hand in hers.

“Hattie, I want you to promise me that you’ll tell your Joe as soon as he comes down. He deserves to know so he can support you. Promise?”

“Yes, Miss Kitty, I promise.”

The secured door for inmates to enter swung open and Joe walked into the room. He looked over and waved to Hattie.

Brad called out to him, “Table four, Washington.”

As Joe weaved his way through the other visitors, Kitty rose from the table. “Tell him right away, Hattie. You’ll feel better, I promise.”

Joe reached them and Hattie rose for his kiss and hug.

“Hello, Mrs. Lancaster.” Joe greeted her. “Does Eddie know you’re here?”

“Nice to see you again Mr. Washington. Yes, I believe that Bradley has called up. If you will excuse me, have a nice visit.”

“Thank you, Miss Kitty….for everything.” Hattie said.

“See you next time, Hattie.” Kitty said as she walked over to her assigned table and sat down.

Joe took Hattie’s hand, “Sit down, woman, and tell me all the news from home. Where’s the kids today?”

“I left ‘em with Ruby.”

“Okay, I guess. I sure do miss seeing ‘em.”

Hattie stared at her lap, unable to go on.

Joe squeezed her hand and lowered his head so he could see her face. “Come on now, girl, nothin’ as bad as that. Tell Joey what’s the matter.”

Hattie lifted her face, her eyes filled with tears.

“It’s not one of the kids, is it?” Joe asked slightly alarmed by her tears.

“No, Joey, it’s me.” Tears spilled down Hattie’s cheeks. “I got some news but I don’ wanna worry you none.”

“Well, spit it out woman. Whatever it is, we’ll handle it.”

“A couple months ago I was doin’ that self examinin’ thing all the magazines talk about …..”|

“What exam thing, Hattie?”

Hattie made a circular motion in front of her chest with her hand. “You know….” She whispered. “…my boobies. And I felt a bump, right through my wash cloth.”

Joe blanched. “My God, Hattie, you mean a ‘lump’? In your breast?”

“Shhh! Joseph please, not so loud. Folks gonna hear us.” She looked around to see if anyone was listening.

“Yes, a lump, a bump…anyway, I really didn’t pay it no mind but I thought it was getting’ bigger. So last week I went in’ta the clinic.”

“Whad’ they say?”

“Well now, here’s the thing. They did a kind’a xray picture, a ‘Mama-grafe’ something and the doctor, he says, ‘yep, there’s somethin’ there.’ They cut me, Joe, and took like a little sample of it.”

“You mean a biopsy?”

“Yeah, that’s the word. Das’ what they do.”

“That’s good, Hattie. That’s what you needed to do. Did they give you the results?”

“Yes, a couple days ago. They said they should take it out, the tumor. It’s little and they said they want to be safer than sorrier.”

“Okay, that’s good.” Joe said.

“But, thas what I needed to talk with you about, Joey. With no insurance, it’s gonna cost lots a money. Even when they figure in what I make in a month, it’s still more money than we gots.”

“I don’t care. Ya gotta catch these things quick like, Hattie. We got our savings. You go home and make an appointment right away, ya hear?”

Hattie frowned. “Now Joe, you know that savings is for the kids. I don’ wanna be dippin’ in’ta that.”

“We’ll make it up soon as I get outta here. You do what I say now. You call up tomorrow………..”

*****

The next segment will appear Friday .  Hope you return to find out what happens to these  women living outside the walls…..

To receive each segment sign up for my blog.  Go to the home page; Scroll down to a box where you can enter your email address. Click on “join my blog”. When you get an email from ‘Writer at Play’ be certain to confirm.  Thanks!

PS. my blogs about writing will continue on Tues. and Thurs. 

Writers need a break too….be certain to re-charge!

I had almost forgotten how to take a break. Spoil myself, sleep in late, eat ice

cream, read some fiction over a cup of tea.

It’s been a very busy, productive summer. Since July first,  I’ve published

twenty-one of the “Shortn’Small” series of short play scripts. Finished writing “Bertie, the Bookworm and the Bully Boys” and released my second book of poetry entitled “The World of Haiku”. Just released is my newest book, “Monologues 4 Women”, something I have wanted to write for a while now.

      But now with the successful completion of “Monologues…” I’m  forcing (almost) myself to take

a break this week. I chose to do it at my cabin in

the woods.

Fall is here and you can’t walk anywhere without the crunch of leaves under foot. There is a cheery fire in the fireplace and the feather quilt is on the bed for snuggling during night-time temperatures of 37 degrees. The Canadian geese are on the pond taking their break on the long flight to warmer climes.

The book I’ve chosen to curl up with, during my ‘pause’, is by an old friend

(or so it seems as I’ve been reading her for thirty years) Nora Roberts. It’s her latest trilogy,  Inn Boonsboro.  The thing that I love about Nora  is that she always seems to sneak in a little tidbit that only her dedicated readers would pick up on and enjoy.

In “The Last Boyfriend” the story continues as the three Montgomery brothers are putting the final touches on an old, abandoned building which they have re-purposed into the Boonsboro Inn. Each room is named for a historic, romantic couple. Nick and Nora (The Thin Man), Elizabeth and Darcy (Pride and Prejudice),  Jane and Rochester  (Jane Eyre), Westley and Buttercup (Gone with the Wind) and  Titiana and Oberon (A Midsummer Night’s Dream).

And here comes the oh-so-clever part:  The last room is named Eve and Roarke, the romantic and exciting couple from Nora’s own series,  “…….in Death” written under the pseudonym of J.D. Robb.  They’re not historic; they are iconic and they are hers!  I love clever!!

This isn’t a book review.  The point I’m making is sometimes we writers get

so caught up we forget to fill our tanks, re-charge our batteries,  get 

centered again.  And we need to remember to do just that, give our creative

spirit a little R&R.  Have you spoiled yourself lately?