Eve Gaal's Blog, page 17

A Rescued Pooch Poem

If I Were a Dog Eve Gaal

If I were a dogI’d forget about yesterday and forgive you today.I’d remind you to cuddle,implore you to play.I’d wait all day until you came home ‘til you read the mail and put down your phone.I’d hold you in the highest esteem--we...you and me... other family members--
the greatest of teams.
If I were a dog,I’d sleep while you’re away,anticipating your arrival,ears perked against rivals, Fiona's in chargehalf awake,I’d probably bark a lot,worried you were caught-held in a cage,next to stinky mongrels filled with rage.I’d imagine the smellOf wet matted hairstrangers that tried to care for unfortunate beasts carrying disease.In my nightmares, I’d remember fleaslanding on my fur--the unforgettable stench of urine everywhere.
If I were a dog, Pinky's eyes....I’d lick your face.
Not to taste,but only to kissthe person who understood my heart.The one who saw into my eyes,had me leaping off the charts.I’d have to wag my tail to convince you—throwing myself at your feet for a belly rub--my love is unconditional and true.I’m sure you’d beg to agree--

our lives are better since...you rescued me.

Fiona with a rare smile Pinky wagging

Lapdog Required--Black Coffee Optional

I thought I'd put a small note here for those who prefer print books. 
Some of you might remember that Penniless Hearts used to have a delightful
blue cover  with a picture of the beach but my publisher has decided to change
even this rather somber one to something that echoes the humor inside.
 Can't wait to see it!
Both novels and most of my poems are available in print format from Amazon or directly through me. I'd say Amazon might be a better deal because they have free shipping when you buy a certain amount of stuff. This week I purchased two regular priced copies of an anthology that contain a couple poems and one of my stories.Even though the book came out almost a year ago, I have to say it's one of my favorite anthologies. Anyway, instead of free shipping, they sent me a tea infuser shaped like a dog as a kind of bonus. Might make a great gift for one of my tea-drinking, cat loving friends. My poem Homeless Hearts made third place in the PnP Author Anthology titled,
Our Treasured Stories & Poems I rarely enter contests and even third place is an honor.
Here's the back of the anthology.

I noticed this book doesn't have any reviews yet.
Don't you want to leave the first one?
Link:
Congratulations to all the winners!
What's your favorite way to read? Do you prefer a Kindle with a kitten in your lap or a print book with a dog? Vice versa? Coffee? Tea?

The Fabric of Love

Psalm 139 13: You formed my inmost being; you knit me in my mother's womb.





I’m winding prayers onto spools. Every nightand morning—In between-- 
for those who need it.A sort of Oompa Loompafeeding into the atmosphere with material made of my soul.Fortunately,I’m not alone.This colorful tapestry of prayercan unravel like crocheted pieces that need to be reworked.Quite a global mega project.When hearts are bursting with pain,We clasp hands to each other embracing those we love--Kiss them on the cheek--glad they’re alive.We are knit together. Collective tears drop into floods-- or get lost in rubble-- quakes in Italy--homes burning in California.There are children running from bombs in 2016!Babies are dying.It’s time to untangle the anger.And some people add to the dramabecause they are madsador just plain bad.Children dodging bombs in Syria?Shootings here--there and everywhere?A 7 year old tried to sell his teddy bear for food—last week in Ohio. Here--in the U.S. A.We’re up to our ears in knots!Can we weave our prayers together?A tighter--powerful hold—create a peaceful pattern--
double and triple stitched from the spools of our prayers?

Five Important Messages From Beyond

I haven’t actually met any aliens but let’s say we communicated through some intergalactic messaging system. My first thoughts would believe it’s a divine type of correspondence, such as angels sending humankind messages. Sadly, many would doubt my celestial notions and tell me I’d be jumping to conclusions, because modern science does keep reminding us that there’s life on other planets. Besides, who am I to interpret or translate for the Almighty?  Photo from WikepediaEither way, whoever is sending me messages is obviously interested in restoring humanity to our world. Lately, I’m receiving more than usual-- of these peaceful and wonderful trans-communications--so I thought I’d share them with you here:  
Don’t stress-(“Let it Be”--Aliens seem to love old Beatles’ songs—I heard it playing during the transmission) My interpretation of this includes road rage, cussing and giving idiots the finger.
Accept it and move on. There are other planets and if it’s too much, at least you have New Zealand. (Canada will work well in a pinch—at least after the election.)
Assist each other as best as you can. Love one another like brothers and sisters—(when possible.)(This is what made me think heavenly message because it steered clear of romantic love but are aliens romantic?)
Realize that differences make humans interesting and entertaining. While sheep are cute and it’s a great Biblical analogy—humans shouldn’t act like sheep or zombies. (I’m paraphrasing—there was some static).
Use all your talents to create smiles and spread them around. (I love this one!)

I look forward to our daily exploration of the universe and all the possibilities within and around our domain upon Earth. I also hope that during difficult times in your life and even in the lives of those you love, you’ll find the strength to pursue, to achieve success and to conquer all obstacles blocking or zooming in front of you, during any part your journey.

Mixing it Up

I will read anything. Hand me a newspaper, send me to the library or charge up my Kindle because my taste in books is rather diverse—with one large caveat--, I shy away from vampire stuff, werewolves, most horror and all erotica. But that still leaves me contemporary fiction, sci-fi, steampunk, romance, thrillers, mystery and more—even coloring books for adults. Plus, there are also magazines, non-fiction, literature and memoirs. It may or may not be true but in my heart, I believe that by mixing things up, readers are giving independent writers a better chance. If I owned a bookstore, I’d place bestsellers right next to Indie books on the shelves. Here’s a short collection of some recent reviews.




The great thing about fantasy books is that you have to suspend your idea of reality to grasp the author’s intentions. In this case, Sahara Foley designed an entire parallel universe filled with original creatures and two wayward teenagers in a Dodge Dart. Since I typically enjoy stories that take characters on a journey, I was mesmerized from the beginning and glad I picked this book from all the thousands of books available to read on my Kindle. My favorite sentence came near the end but I don’t think that by sharing it I’d spoil anything: “If the human race is going to survive, we have to stop fighting each other over stupid ideas that don’t mean anything and start working together.” Foley writes her dystopian Eden as a place for some sort of hope and renewal and though Jan and Don enjoy running around without their clothes on like modern versions of Adam and Eve, there’s still the problem of Dad, Mike, Mom and a bunch of Skittou. Not to mention the cops. If you like stories about make believe places filled with imaginary characters, you’ll like this adventure about running away from home.




The Double Whammy is a fishing lure used to catch bass but you don’t need to know anything about fishing or bass to enjoy this Hiaasen thriller. Filled with enough twists and turns to give you whiplash while you speed through pages filled with tons of action and humorous descriptions, this is one of those books you’ll try and read in one sitting. The characters almost sound like people we read about in the news and though the writer’s a bit harsh on women—I have to say I enjoyed the salty misogynistic descriptions peppered and embellished with the awful language commonly used by raunchy men in hot, sweaty and swamp like conditions. While the main character is a private investigator by the name of Decker, I was more interested in the wild man Skink and the evil Reverend Weeb. What a riot. Lots of bad men and naughty women but Queenie is my favorite. Find out what happens at the biggest Bass Blasters Classic but hold on to your outboard engine for one amazing ride through Lunker Lakes.



The Third Servant is a very enjoyable book that pulled me along Ezra’s personal journey from the very beginning. I kept comparing Billington’s writing to Paul Coelho or Og Mandino even Jean M. Auel. But as the story unfolded and the journey progressed, I found superior writing with exactly the type of ‘style’ I enjoy. It’s the story of a poor orphaned servant who seeks justice along his quest for truth. He befriends fisherman, nomads, kings, philosophers and soldiers on his journey. He learns to use a sword, bows and arrows and even learns to negotiate. A caravan master tells him that he has many gifts but that his faith and his brain are his greater gifts. Many times before battle, his faith is confused with confidence while his brains are continually sponging up the local customs and languages of his travels. A journey he feels is the will of God and resistance to it would only be futile, thus he seeks his own destiny. But the battles and losses are wreaking havoc on Ezra’s soul. Romans are a threat unlike anything that he has ever seen before. The rules of battle are changing. He needs an infantry of archers and spear throwers. Being incompetent is not an option—either is losing—will luck be on his side? And in his time of greatest need, will he be ready to put down his sword and surrender? Great book. I recommend it highly.



I used to laugh at the idea of Adult coloring books. After all, there are plenty of things more important to create and perhaps better ways of wasting time. Sometimes however, there comes a time in everyone’s life when we need to relax and create a spa-like, sort of Zen atmosphere. Sounds impossible? Not really, because once you start working on Today is Going to Be a Great Day, all of a sudden the worry dissipates and all you can think about is sharpening your colored pencils. No plot to figure out, no emotional characters to make you sit on the edge of your seat but hours and hours of tranquil fun. As you choose your colors, it will put your mind at ease, clearing out any cobwebs or negativity, so you can meditate while creating art.



I loved this book because it reminded me of all the writing struggles I personally have had throughout the years, some of which consist of bitter truths, underpaid delusions, lofty dreams and inspired visions shared by those who traveled similar roads. In other words, I could relate to the overthinking and the landmines created by others. But Becoming Moon deserves to be a bestseller and is immensely polished and well-crafted prose about a sort of conversion.
After glancing at some of the other reviews about this book, I firmly believe that if you haven’t experienced the agony of writing or thrown your heart into some sort of art, then you might not be able to relate in even an infinitesimal way. Professor Schmidt puts it this way: “We artists are nothing; it is the art. We are only conduits. When the artist becomes the art, the art itself dies.” And those looking for gore and gut wrenching violence might want to steer clear because something evil happens in Becoming Moon that’s worse than a death by hanging for a writer and that’s plagiarism. I applaud Mr. Hart for tackling this delicate, painful subject with inebriated imagery and heartfelt melancholy.
Earlier, there’s a conversation in a bar, “We know nothing.” And that’s when you begin to realize that the main character’s soul is drowning analogous to an actual drowning from the beginning of the book. Then the revival pushes him further down the rabbit hole. Trust? Confidence? Huge issues—and women? Kate, Emily and Chloe have their own agendas that make the writer drink with an updated Hemingway style. Lots of creativity here such as a main character no one calls by name but since it’s in first person, you don’t mind. Until he’s completely lost and you want him to have a name. You want him to believe in God and trust in those words he’s humming. Most likely, you’ll hope as I did, that those bees buzzing outside the cabin window are a sign of hope leading to his newfound faith.

Have you read any great books lately? Do you write reviews?

Behind the Intangible Heart

Hi, my name is Eve Gaal. I live in Riverside County, California with my husband and two naughty, rescued Chihuahuas. Fiona and Pinky love the sunshine!
If anyone remembers me from school in Orange County, he or she might know I loved reading and writing poetry. Many of my poems were published in school periodicals and yearbooks. In college, some of my humble poems made the school paper but unfortunately, financial goals pushed me into the advertising side of writing. Most newspapers enjoyed my creativity which helped revenues but sadly, advertising wasn’t helping me move toward my life long dream of writing meaningful poetry and prose. I had to turn my back on my advertising career and return to a world of mystery and the unknown. I had to create a future based on words. No big newspaper group to back me up—no management to prod me forward—no graphic artists to worry about—no sick days—just me and whatever I wanted to write about.
Currently I’m a freelance writer and though I occasionally help businesses with advertising copy, my emphasis is on poetry and fiction. Recent work has appeared in various anthologies, journals and even The Los Angeles Times. My first novel, Penniless Hearts is doing well on Amazon and garnering glowing reviews from around the world. I’m working on a sequel called Penniless Souls. My short Christian fantasy novella called The Fifth Commandment is currently available for Kindle readers. 

For more information or to see some of my publishing credits, please visit my website at www.evegaal.com 
Nature—more than anything--inspires me to write. In nature, I see God. I see love—I see truth and mystery.
What about you? What inspires you more than anything to create—to sing—to dance and to be happy?

Cover Reveal

Exciting news!! Work on Penniless Souls is going slowly, so meanwhile I spruced up a story
I wrote several years before Penniless Hearts. It's about a girl who breaks a commandment and suffers the consequences of her actions, thus finding her heart in the process. While it might sound like a book for young adults, I have been cautioned that teens don't want to read life lessons and so this might be the perfect novella for adults who simply want to read a paranormal-Christian inspired-fiction story that came to me in my dreams. Here's the cover:
Coming Soon!
What do you think? 

Embracing the Champion Within

Loving others is impossible without loving yourself. There are many sad, lonely or scared people who don't understand this concept and feel egotistical and selfish about self love. Remember that you cannot feed others if you yourself are weak and hungry. A doctor can't help a patient if he is ill. The same goes with everything. If you want to find love, then please try to love your incredible self first and you'll soon find you won't feel alone. Here's a poem to share with your humble, self-sacrificing friends.


The Champion Within
When champions meet, they face off with a smile.They don’t smirk or act haughty,They might embrace for a short whilenot smug--seldom naughty. A champion is a leader--the happiest face to see--a sort of electric Walmart greeter. like a rescued dog that may not qualifybut instead steals hearts--no lies--like triple sevens on a slot.Not necessarily the winner,but someone you want to know--someone you’d take to dinner,drag everywhere you go.You recognize the qualities there,cautious steps--excited splashingin puddles or pools everywhere,elated laughter while dashing--committed and thorough--reaping what they sow.Extras they give awayglad to make room--grateful for the day--butterflies and blooms.The spirit inside your reflection,joyful and bold--a type of magnet for your affection--rarer than any titleholder’s gold.The irreplaceable and exceptional you—your first friend
your true blue.



Do you know you're a champion?

No Words

When words appear in your head but stop before reaching your mouth.When words form in your heart but stop before you type onto an empty page.When words flow down your arm as it reaches for a pen but the ink runs dryer than the Sahara desert.
Pencils-permanent markers-spray paint-calligraphy nib-felt tip-crayons—maybe your Smith Corona—your Royal—Underwood typewriter. Dig out the Apple word processor, dust it off and remove the garage sale sticker before you burst into tears. The keys are stuck and the cords are tangled.  That's me waving from the station
but this picture is over ten years old.

When words don’t mean anything and there’s nothing to say and even if you could stand atop a roof and scream at the top of your vocal chords, the words would sound garbled and stupid. Though you’d get something out—a frail sound—a squeak—a grunt—a painful sigh—you’d still be misunderstood--like a Tower of Babel without a cause--because-- sometimes there are no words. 

An Unlikely Superhero

Ask a kid what they want to be when they grow up and they might say they want to be a fireman or a dancer. Perhaps a superhero like superman, which in grownup-speak means policeman, soldier or even preacher because they are saving the world from evil. But—by the time they are finished with school—they will typically change their minds a few times based on local opportunities, pressure from parents and tuition fees.
When someone asked the young me about my future, I said, “I’m going to be a writer.” I kept a diary and later some journals. I wrote stories and created crudely assembled “books.” I entertained my family by reading them my flawed but heartfelt poems.
 In high school, I had one superhero and her name was Edna St. Vincent Millay. The way she had experienced various passions and perspectives in life and then wrote about them, made her a sort of idol I wanted to emulate.Although I’ve outgrown my enamored feelings—here are a few (romantic) facts about a writer and poet who lived a charmed life, creating not only lyrical poetry but who also had amazing success.
1.       She had red hair and green eyes! 2.       She wrote an opera for The Met.3.       She owned an island called Ragged Island in Maine.4.       She lived in Vienna, Rome, Budapest, Paris and New York5.       She wrote articles for magazines using the pseudonym Nancy Boyd. 6.       She received the Pulitzer Prize7.       She married a Dutch importer in 19248.       She died working all night on her last book of poems.
My favorite of her poems are: a.       Renascenceb.      Childhood is the Kingdom Where Nobody Diesc.       The Fawnd.      Dirge Without Musice.      Hyacinthf.        Souvenirg.       The Philosopherh.      The Poet and His Booki.         Conscientious Objector
Her poems are emotional and delicate, not contrived. Her tender words touch on love and innocence as it teeters on the brink of mortality. Perhaps subjects I didn’t need to be so enthralled with at age 17 but glad her words are still sitting on my shelves waiting for me to return. And now that I’m a mature “writer,” it’s time to set new goals. Anyone have an island for sale? Maybe  I better start with red hair.
Hyacinth Edna St. Vincent Millay
I am in love with him to whom a hyacinth is dearer
Than I shall ever be dear.
On nights when the field-mice are abroad he cannot sleep:
He hears their narrow teeth at the bulbs of his hyacinths.
But the gnawing at my heart he does not hear.
How about you? What were your childhood aspirations?
Did you have a superhero that you wanted to be like when you grew up?