Dear Reader

Dear Reader Column 11-29-19

Dear Reader,

Turkey, turkey, gobble, gobble--if your Thanksgiving dinner guests don't gobble down all of your turkey, I have the perfect recipe for your leftovers. It's become a tradition, the Friday after Thanksgiving is my day to make turkey pies.

My quick and easy recipe for Leftover Turkey Pies.

Line a pie pan with ready-made crust (or make it from scratch), and fill it two-thirds of the way with cut-up leftover turkey. Dice a fresh onion, add vegetables (a package of frozen, or leftover fresh veggies from the relish tray). Pour any leftover gravy on top. If Uncle Fred polished off the gravy, open a can of turkey or chicken gravy. I prefer chicken because it has more flavor. Season with pepper. Add top crust.

Bake in a 400 degree oven until golden brown. You've got the perfect leftover turkey pie. It's as simple as that.

Thanks for reading with me. It's so good to read with friends.

Suzanne Beecher
[email protected]

KIDSBUZZ: Click here to discover new books, "meet" the authors and enter to win.

Books for kids and tweens: for middle graders who enjoy magical adventure tales, check out POWER OF A PRINCESS by E.B. Baker--if you believe in yourself, you'll end up surprising everyone; and for kids who are intrigued by stories of spies, secrets, and wacky plans, check out SPIES, LIES, AND DISGUISE: The Daring Tricks and Deeds that Won World War II by Jennifer Swanson. For a chance to win free copies and learn more, see KIDSBUZZ.

This month's Penguin Classics book is THE PENGUIN BOOK OF MERMAIDS, edited by Cristina Bacchilega and Marie Alohalani Brown. I have a copy of the book to share with a lucky reader, so start reading today and enter for your chance to win.

Dear Reader Column 11-28-19

Dear Reader,

Today my family and friends are gathering at my home for Thanksgiving dinner. It's always the year's big ta-do! dinner. Bigger than Christmas dinner. The menu never changes, it's tradition: turkey, crock pot dressing, mashed potatoes, gravy, sweet potato casserole, Skunk beans, shrimp salad, deviled eggs, green beans jazzed with tomato, fresh cranberries, coleslaw and pies, and more pies, all homemade including the crusts.

Paul, James and Hadley, three of my grandchildren who live close by, helped me make the pies the day before Thanksgiving. Actually 13-year-old Paul, has been baking with me since he was three years old, so he can make the pies himself now, including the crusts.

Family and friends gathered together, a tradition of favorite foods, and memories that will last a lifetime.

Thanks for reading with me. It is truly a blessing for me to be able to read with friends like you every day.

Happy Thanksgiving,

Suzanne Beecher
[email protected]

KIDSBUZZ: Click here to discover new books, "meet" the authors and enter to win.

This month's Penguin Classics book is THE PENGUIN BOOK OF MERMAIDS, edited by Cristina Bacchilega and Marie Alohalani Brown. I have a copy of the book to share with a lucky reader, so start reading today and enter for your chance to win.

Dear Reader Column 11-27-19

Dear Reader,

Featuring today's column for the Thanksgiving holiday has become a tradition. It's the story of one of those unforgettable, life-changing moments, and every year when I set my Thanksgiving table I think of him...

It was obvious he didn't want to be in my kitchen. He had been kicked out of every public and private school and home schooling was a last resort for his parents. I'm sure his folks were jumping for joy, and would have gladly paid double the price when they saw my announcement: 6-Week Cooking Class for Homeschoolers, because it would give them a three hour break during the day.

Ryan was tough looking, the kind of kid that would make you cross over to the other side of the street if you were out for a leisurely stroll. Ragged hair that always looked like it needed to be washed, baggy clothes and big oversized, steel-toed, curb-stomping boots. In his mind, I'm sure he was lookin' cool.

Eight, fifth grade students enrolled in my class, including Ryan. On our first day, when we did introductions, I asked each kid to tell me what they hoped to learn. Tough kid's response, "My parents made me come here, sounds stupid to me."

Okay, I could work with that. Maybe?

But Ryan would never give me an inch--it would have been giving in to the establishment to actually enjoy himself, even when he was eating a cream puff. "Well, what do you think? Do you like them?" I was hoping the fluffy white filling might force one crummy smile from him, but no...he was one tough cookie. Nevertheless, I genuinely liked the kid. I respected his pigheadedness. It reminded me of myself when I was his age.

Each student had kitchen assignments, but I didn't press Ryan to do much of anything, except I did enforce a "No Smoking" rule during the three hour class period. But I'd still catch him smoking outside when we'd take a break. I spoke to his parents about it, but they just shrugged their shoulders: "What can you do?"

Ryan wasn't disrupting the class and the other kids accepted his behavior for what it was--so I figured no real harm done. Tough boy would try to follow a recipe every now and then, but he moved so slowly--to emphasize his disgust in being there--that by the time he'd get some cookie batter mixed up we were out of time.

The finale of the six week cooking class was to prepare a holiday buffet for the kids' parents. Thanksgiving was only a couple of weeks away, so we decided to do a half-Thanksgiving, half-Christmas theme with the table decorations. All of the kids showed up for class early on the big day, even Ryan, which surprised me, because I wasn't sure he was going to show up at all, so I hadn't given him an assignment.

"Here, these are for the table," Ryan said, his eyes looking away from me, "I made them last night." And he handed me two wooden snowmen, two Christmas trees and a Pilgrim and Indian.

I was stunned, they were adorable. He'd hand carved and painted them, on all sides, so no matter where they sat on the buffet table you'd be able to see the detail of his work. You never know about people. I thought I was going to cry, but I could tell he didn't want me to make too big of a deal about it. His parents were as shocked as I'd been, when I pointed out what their son had made.

Two wooden Christmas trees, two snowmen, and an Indian and Pilgrim, sit on the shelf of my china closet, but every year on Thanksgiving and Christmas, I take them down, and put them in the center of my table and of course, I retell the story of the boy who made them for me.

*If you'd like to see a photo of my "treasures" click here.

Thanks for reading with me. It's so good to read with friends.

Suzanne Beecher
[email protected]

KIDSBUZZ: Click here to discover new books, "meet" the authors and enter to win.

Books for kids and tweens: for middle graders who enjoy magical adventure tales, check out POWER OF A PRINCESS by E.B. Baker--if you believe in yourself, you'll end up surprising everyone; and for kids who are intrigued by stories of spies, secrets, and wacky plans, check out SPIES, LIES, AND DISGUISE: The Daring Tricks and Deeds that Won World War II by Jennifer Swanson. For a chance to win free copies and learn more, see KIDSBUZZ.

This month's Penguin Classics book is THE PENGUIN BOOK OF MERMAIDS, edited by Cristina Bacchilega and Marie Alohalani Brown. I have a copy of the book to share with a lucky reader, so start reading today and enter for your chance to win.

Dear Reader Column 11-26-19

Dear Reader,

Alice Blanchard, the award-winning author of five novels, including the New York Times Notable mystery, Darkness Peering, is today's guest author. Her newest release Trace of Evil, has been selected as an Indie Next Pick for December 2019. I'm so glad to have her visit the book club. Please welcome her. Contact Alice

MYSTERIES IN THE ATTIC by Alice Blanchard

Every year after Christmas, my family would get up at seven in the morning, bundle up and head out of Connecticut in our coughing station wagon.

Two hours later, we'd arrive hungry and tired in a sleepy town north of Boston surrounded by birch trees. My grandparents' house looked like a Victorian mansion with its gabled windows and gingerbread trim. We tromped up the creaky porch steps and burst through the front door, shouting hellos and peeling out of our coats, gloves and scarves. The house smelled of fresh-baked bread, pot roast and mashed potatoes.

My grandfather would hug me tight and pinch my cheek. He was a big man with a barrel chest, a large belly, and stocky legs that took him rapidly from room to room. He couldn't sit still. One minute, he'd be piling up logs in the fieldstone fireplace, and the next minute he'd be standing at the top of the colonial staircase, tipping a slinky off the landing. As it inchwormed down the steps, he'd give a little speech about the dynamics of motion. He once wrote me a check for a million-trillion dollars, which I kept in my coat pocket until it got lost.

Eventually, he'd say the words I was waiting for. "Sweetheart, go up to the attic and pick out a book!"

Their attic was full of mysteries: old baby clothes and broken appliances and unopened wedding gifts from ages ago. There were holiday decorations and my great uncle's forgotten landscape paintings stacked against a wall. A half-melted candle, the wax frozen mid-drip. A banjo with one string. A can of dried-out purple paint. A vinyl purse full of ancient lipsticks--scarlet, crimson, flamingo pink. Scattered crayons. I rummaged through dusty boxes hoping to find an old treasure map rolled up inside a cracked leather boot.

But the real treasure was inside the old steamer trunk. I lifted the heavy lid, and there--shining in a slant of sunlight from the vented window--were my grandfather's books stacked on top of one another. I opened one up, and the spine cracked like the attic stairs. Strange scents wafted from the yellowing pages--almond and wood smoke and a hint of vanilla.

I selected a book and took it downstairs to my grandfather, and he always said, "Ah ha!" as if I'd brought him a gold doubloon.

After dinner, we'd sit by the fire, and Grandpa would read aloud to me, the sound of his voice transporting me to another universe. 'Twas brillig and the slithy toves...' I'd struggled to read when I was young, but his reverence for books encouraged me to study and grow.

My grandfather is gone, but his memory is with me. His love of words is with me. I've managed to keep a few of his books, and occasionally I'll open one up, inhale a waft of nostalgia, and revisit the old attic in my mind. I'll choose a book, then hurry downstairs and sit by the fieldstone fireplace, where Grandpa and I will disappear into other worlds.

--Alice Blanchard

Contact Alice

Thanks for reading with me. It's so good to read with friends.

Suzanne Beecher
[email protected]

KIDSBUZZ: Click here to discover new books, "meet" the authors and enter to win.

This month's Penguin Classics book is THE PENGUIN BOOK OF MERMAIDS, edited by Cristina Bacchilega and Marie Alohalani Brown. I have a copy of the book to share with a lucky reader, so start reading today and enter for your chance to win.

Dear Reader Column 11-25-19

Dear Reader,

Congratulations to Elizabeth Janice!

I'm pleased to announce that Elizabeth's entry in this year's Write a DearReader Contest, is one of my Honorable Mention pieces. Thank you Elizabeth for sharing your visits, a friendship and a beautiful story.

Every Sunday, for nearly three years, I spent my afternoons with Victoria, an elderly woman who lived alone in New York City. These visits were part of a program that matched homebound seniors with volunteer "friendly visitors."

"Hi, Victoria. It's me," I would call out as I opened her front door. She was always "Victoria"--no nicknames--a lady with soft red hair (even in her early 90s, all grays were covered) and pale green eyes that lit up when she saw me. A former actress and dancer, Victoria relished the limelight and hated being alone. To pass the endless hours at home, she watched a lot of television, everything from "Friends" reruns to talk shows. With no children or other family members, she depended on strangers to be her connection to the outside world. "I've outlived everybody I once knew," she sometimes bemoaned. But then her face would brighten: "I'm lucky to have new friends like you. Can you imagine--at my age! I'm truly blessed."

Home was a cramped one-bedroom apartment on one of Manhattan's busiest streets. Every spare inch was crammed with photographs and souvenirs from her world travels. The pictures on her bedroom dresser presented a visual timeline of her life: a smiling baby with chubby cheeks...a pretty teenager with wavy hair that fell past her waist...a vivacious young woman showing off her dance moves at a party...a middle-aged lady lounging on a far-away beach.

Victoria, an only child, was raised by a single mother (an early 20th-century stage mom). At 16, she made her Broadway debut. As she got older, she also indulged her wanderlust, cruising to Europe, Australia, South America and the Caribbean. On a trip to Buenos Aires, she met her future husband, a British executive. They settled there for over a decade and Victoria learned to speak fluent Spanish, before returning to New York.

By the time we met, the once curvaceous Victoria weighed less than 100 pounds. "You must eat more," I always urged, but she hated dining alone. Weak with arthritis, Victoria used a walker to navigate her apartment. On rare occasions, she would go outside with her nurse's aide pushing her in a wheelchair. But first, she would put on a hat, gloves, jewelry and bright red lipstick. "A lady always has to look her best," she would say quite seriously. "You never know when you might meet a gentleman."

During our visits, we stayed inside, drinking tea and sharing cookies and ice cream. Victoria chatted about her travels and her foreign friends. Her favorite vacation spot was Cuba, "the most beautiful island in the world." She introduced me to dulce de leche, the Latin American treat. I found myself confiding in her, revealing things I didn't tell anyone else. Victoria had strong opinions about everything. Sometimes we disagreed. But mostly we laughed.

Our visits settled into a comfortable rhythm, week after week. Then suddenly, just before her 95th birthday, Victoria suffered a stroke and slipped into a coma. Days later, she was gone. Six people, including me and the nurse's aid, attended her funeral. Victoria was laid to rest next to her mother, in an unmarked grave, and her apartment was quickly put on the market.

Long afterwards, I would walk past her building and gaze up at the sixth floor, where Victoria had lived for over half a century. Although she rarely ventured out in her later years, the bustling streets of Manhattan still seem oddly empty at times. I became a volunteer to help brighten the life of a lonely senior citizen. But in the winter of her life, Victoria welcomed me into her world and a way of life that no longer exists--when friends got together for afternoon tea parties and a lady wouldn't dream of stepping outside without putting on pearls, perfume and her favorite lipstick.

Elizabeth Janice
Honorable Mention, 2019 Write a DearReader Contest

Thanks for reading with me. It's so good to read with friends.

Suzanne Beecher
[email protected]

KIDSBUZZ: Click here to discover new books, "meet" the authors and enter to win.

This month's Penguin Classics book is THE PENGUIN BOOK OF MERMAIDS, edited by Cristina Bacchilega and Marie Alohalani Brown. I have a copy of the book to share with a lucky reader, so start reading today and enter for your chance to win.

Dear Reader Column 11-22-19

Dear Reader,

Quilting. Susie White, one of this year's Write a DearReader Honorable Mentions caught my attention right away, because I sew quilts. I sew with abandon. No plans, no pressure, but just like the title of her piece, I seem to always make...

SOMETHIN' FROM NOTHIN'

Looking back, growing up with Depression and World War II-era parents had a profound effect on my values and outlook on life, one I certainly didn't appreciate at the time. As a farm child in the 1960's, I was thoroughly embarrassed to carry my sandwich to school in a leftover Holsum bread bag or to wear the pants my brother had outgrown. While re-purposing was not a word back then, it was already a necessary way of life for my family.

My dad saved the string from the feed bags and the twine from the hay bales in the barn. In the house, my mom saved mayonnaise jars for canning vegetables from the garden in the summer and fabric scraps from sewing our clothes for making quilts in the winter. Both of my parents had grown up in lean times and had learned to not waste a thing that might prove useful down the road. "Waste not, want not."

Jumping to the present, that bit of personal history probably helps explain why I now find great satisfaction in making somethin' from nothin'--placemats from worn jeans, yard art from ceiling fan blades, and, like my mother, quilts from fabric scraps.

A couple of years ago, a good friend, a quilter herself, asked if I'd be interested in joining her "Scrappy Quilters" group. I'd been intrigued in the past upon hearing her talk about it. They needed someone with a portable sewing machine who could join them one evening a month to help piece quilt tops. This sounded like a perfect fit for me! Their name alone spoke to my old heart. Further, it allowed me an opportunity to put my vintage Featherweight sewing machine to good use. A Featherweight is a delightful little sewing machine that comes in a handy carrying case. If you're not familiar with them, you might think it was a toy. Mine dates back to 1951. So, "Have Featherweight, Will Travel" soon became my motto.

That was the start of my monthly gatherings with a bunch of warm and welcoming women. We meet in their church basement to make, you guessed it, scrappy quilts. Thanks to many donations of fabric, used sheets and blankets, and an assortment of other usable items such as orphan quilt blocks, vintage linens, and curtains, a quilt top is pieced together and placed on top of a layer of filling (or batting) and a backing. This "sandwich" is secured by tying it with crochet cotton or yarn at regular intervals to keep the three layers from shifting. The sides of the quilt are then hemmed to enclose all raw edges. Finally, an embroidered Bible verse is hand-stitched onto the back of the quilt.

Clearly, the Scrappy Quilters are not out to create museum pieces of art, unless it's perhaps a folk art museum. Rather, the goal is to provide warmth and comfort via our humble quilts, whether they go to ill or grieving members of the congregation or are distributed in our community to single mothers and their babies, ex-offenders struggling to get back on their feet, and domestic abuse victims. Scrappy quilts are practical utility quilts but, in a sense, they may be the most creative of all. They date back to many years ago as a product of necessity, with women scrimping and saving every bit of extra cloth and thread, sometimes exchanging them with neighbors, to make intricate patchwork quilts to keep their families warm. For us, there are few set patterns, no pre-selected, coordinated fabrics in kits, no expectations of perfection. No two quilts are alike and materials are kept out of landfills, and that is the beauty of it.

Making somethin' from nothin' is a joyful labor of love and imagination and oh, so very satisfying!

Susie White
Honorable Mention, 2019 Write a DearReader Contest

Thanks for reading with me. It's so good to read with friends.

Suzanne Beecher
[email protected]

AUTHORBUZZ: Click here to discover new books, "meet" the authors and enter to win.

KIDSBUZZ: Click here to discover new books, "meet" the authors and enter to win.

KIDSBUZZ: Books for kids and tweens: She's determined to win, but will she lose? Find out in the full-of-adventure novel DOG DRIVEN by Terry Lynn Johnson; and for middle graders who enjoy magical adventure tales, check out MORE THAN A PRINCESS by E.D. Baker--if you believe in yourself, you'll end up surprising everyone. For a chance to win free copies and learn more, see http://www.authorbuzz.com/kidsbuzz.

This month's Penguin Classics book is THE PENGUIN BOOK OF MERMAIDS, edited by Cristina Bacchilega and Marie Alohalani Brown. I have a copy of the book to share with a lucky reader, so start reading today and enter for your chance to win.

Dear Reader Column 11-21-19

Dear Reader,

Today's story was chosen as an Honorable Mention piece in this year's Write a DearReader Contest. Congratulations to Judi King, who shares one of the moments in her life when she now wonders, 'What was I thinking?'

Thanks for sharing your story with us Judi...

I said no. I, "Miss Beatle Fan of All Time", said no to Paul McCartney.

I am always amazed at the words that come out of my mouth (and my friends and family will testify to that as well!) but this time took the cake.

Paul McCartney was coming to town for the first time ever, and I was asked by some fellow "Paul Peeps" to arrange a meet and greet for fans coming to the show. I set to work on this project, giving it 110%. I put word out on social media; got a local pub to host us; a local radio station gave freebies to give away; even our state's Parks & Tourism department gave a gift basket and goodies for the fans. We had several out of town folks attend, new friendships were formed, and it was deemed a hit--whew!

Then it was time for us to go to the arena to do "Limo Watch". If you are a die-hard Paul fan, you know when Paul will arrive at the arena and he'll roll his window down, smile and wave, and for about five seconds youarethisclosetoPaulMcCartney, and it's glorious! We get to the arena early, and I introduce myself to Paul's main security guy Brian. We chatted for a bit, and then the most glorious words came rolling out of his mouth: "Would you like to meet Paul?" Would I? Would I? But then, the insecure, fat, awkward 13 year old hidden away deep in my soul explodes out of her inner sanctum and says, and I quote, "No, Paul wouldn't want to meet me. No thank you." Me, who has been a fan for 53 years, me, who has Paul's music seared into the most memorable moments in my life, lets that awkward silly goose run rampant with her mouth and again says, "No thank you."

With an incredulous look, Brian turns away, and I realize with horror that I have done one of the most incredibly insane things in my life--turned away a chance to meet a Beatle and thank him for all the musical gifts he has given us fans over my lifetime. I don't tell this to too many folks, as I get the same incredulous look from them that Paul's security man gave me. After three years, I still can't believe it myself.

So Paul, if you're reading this, thank you. And I promise I won't say no again.

Judi King
Honorable Mention, 2019 Write a DearReader Contest

Thanks for reading with me. It's so good to read with friends.

Suzanne Beecher
[email protected]

AUTHORBUZZ: Click here to discover new books, "meet" the authors and enter to win.

With so many new books out every week, we promise these titles deserve your attention:

(Fiction)
ABANDON by Rachel Van Dyken

(Fiction)
KADO: Lost Treasure of the Kadohadacho by E. Russell Braziel

(Fiction)
SANDY BOTTOM by Alexi Venice

Go to: http://authorbuzz.com/dearreader

This month's Penguin Classics book is THE PENGUIN BOOK OF MERMAIDS, edited by Cristina Bacchilega and Marie Alohalani Brown. I have a copy of the book to share with a lucky reader, so start reading today and enter for your chance to win.

Dear Reader Column 11-20-19

Dear Reader,

Today's column is penned by Connie Blocher, one of this year's Honorable Mention pieces in the 15th Annual Write a DearReader Contest.

Congratulations Connie!

The Liberation of an Invisible Woman

The card game, bridge, I have learned can be complicated, but it is always enjoyable to play. Despite the bounty of rules, I like playing bridge because of the challenge it presents and because of the friends that I have made. Although I am not young, many of my fellow players are several years my senior and outperform me time and time again. I delight in hearing their life experiences, their humor, and most of all their wisdom. Recently, I heard a bit of that wisdom when I remarked that I would be visiting a tropical island and dreaded stuffing this pudgy body into a bathing suit. One lady chimed in with her simple words of wisdom. "Don't worry," she exclaimed, "no one pays any attention to an older woman, so it matters little what you look like or wear."

"Hmm," I mumbled to myself. "Does this mean women become invisible as they grow older? Are we just a bunch of old wet hens?" I thought about all the time I've wasted dabbing creams and lotions on my face trying to reduce wrinkles and erase age spots. My struggles with trying to squeeze a mass of flab into a Spanx garment to conceal my spare tire came to mind as well. If I am invisible such primping is not necessary and I do not need my dowdy clothes. Ah, a new sense of freedom!

My friend's theory intrigued me and I decided to test it. At a community concert at our local gazebo, I made it a top priority to watch the spectators. While everyone listened as the trumpets and trombones in the brass band blared out Sousa's "Washington Post March", "Anchors Away", and other patriotic numbers, my eyes and one ear were glued to the crowd. Sure enough, when a couple walked by with children, people commented on the cuteness of the children and the attractiveness of the parents. When a good-looking female or an impressive male ambled by, many heads swiveled around to stare. Not so with older ladies. No one looked and no one said anything, but why would they? I conducted this same test on the beach with the same results. Older women really did vanish into the background.

If I told you that this did not disturb me, I would not be stating the truth. Does the world need a revenge of the invisible woman? After much thought, I have finally come to the conclusion that this time of invisibility is the most liberating stage of my life! As an invisible lady, I can do what I want almost any time that I would like. I can don those crazy outfits, I can learn to belly dance, I can soar down the street on a bright yellow bicycle, or I can start tooting on a tuba. Invisibles can do anything that makes them happy! Younger persons may remark that I am just another eccentric older lady, they do not realize that this strange lady is embarking on new adventures. My bucket list is full and I have goals to reach. It is time to take those French lessons. Oui! Oui! On my next trip to Hawaii, I just may take those hula lessons complete with a grass skirt and coconut shells on my bosoms although my husband may object. As for the present, I have much to do. Now, let's see, when can I schedule those French lessons or start blasting away on a tuba?

Connie Blocher
Honorable Mention, 2019 Write a DearReader Contest

Thanks for reading with me. It's so good to read with friends.

Suzanne Beecher
[email protected]

AUTHORBUZZ: Click here to discover new books, "meet" the authors and enter to win.

SANDY BOTTOM by Alexi Venice

Dr. Jen Dawson and Attorney Amanda Hawthorne are engaged to be married. They have survived Amanda's dangerous job and addictive behaviors, but when her affair is splashed all over the media, Jen escapes to her family lake cabin in Wisconsin. While there, she meets Victoria. Will the straight and narrow Jen even the score with Amanda? Will Amanda attempt to salvage their relationship?

Go to: AUTHORBUZZ click on SANDY BOTTOM to read more and to email author Alexi Venice, you'll get a reply.

KIDSBUZZ: Click here to discover new books, "meet" the authors and enter to win.

KIDSBUZZ: Books for kids and tweens: She's determined to win, but will she lose? Find out in the full-of-adventure novel DOG DRIVEN by Terry Lynn Johnson; and for middle graders who enjoy magical adventure tales, check out MORE THAN A PRINCESS by E.D. Baker--if you believe in yourself, you'll end up surprising everyone. For a chance to win free copies and learn more, see http://www.authorbuzz.com/kidsbuzz.

This month's Penguin Classics book is THE PENGUIN BOOK OF MERMAIDS, edited by Cristina Bacchilega and Marie Alohalani Brown. I have a copy of the book to share with a lucky reader, so start reading today and enter for your chance to win.

Dear Reader Column 11-19-19

Dear Reader,

Today's guest author, Cindy Woodsmall, is a New York Times and CBA best-selling author of twenty-three works of fiction. She's been featured in national media outlets such as ABC's Nightline and the Wall Street Journal. Cindy has won numerous awards, including a finalist for the prestigious Christy, Rita, and Carol Awards.

Cindy's new title, written with her daughter Erin, is A Christmas Haven: An Amish Christmas Romance just in time for the holidays. It has a lot of heart and plenty of Christmas cheer. Join Cindy and Erin in visiting quaint Greene's Pharmacy in Amish country.

Say hello and welcome Cindy to our book club. Email: [email protected]

Sign, Sign, Everywhere a Sign

When you know that something's going to happen, you' start trying to see signs of its approach in just about everything.
--David Eddings, author

My stepmom came to visit us in Georgia from Pennsylvania a few weeks ago, and we had a lovely time. On the same day she was flying back home, I was flying to Vancouver, and my husband and two of our friends would meet me at the airport a few hours after I got Mom on her plane.

She and I took an Uber to the airport, but the driver didn't have a Peach Pass, so rather than the usual forty-minute trip, it took almost two hours. (I had messed up by not knowing how to verify the driver had a Peach Pass.)

Still, we had left my house in plenty of time, and if nothing else went wrong, we would be fine. We got out of the car and headed for Delta's Special Service's line in order to get a security pass so I could take Mom to her gate. I couldn't go through security using my boarding pass because I would need to leave the terminal and return to the bag check-in area...for reasons I won't bore you with.

The Special Service's line had at least fifty people ahead of us. Fifteen minutes later, the line still had the same amount of people ahead of us, and I realized that although I could use a restroom, I needed to wait until I had Mom at her terminal.

Eventually the line started moving, and I got my pass. With no time to waste, we went straight to the security line, and it had a few hundred people ahead of us.

I often have minor issues when going through security. Typically, I need the wand waved, a pat down, or my hands wiped for gun powder. Mom went through with no problems, but sure enough, the metal detector went off when I went through it. This time, though, rather than receiving a wand, pat down, or hand wipe, they told me to go through the body scanner.

I'm feeling a bit frazzled by now. I step inside the scanner, put my feet shoulder-width apart, and raise my arms over my head.

A sign inside the scanner read: Hold the pee.

My first thought: 'Wait. What?' My second thought: 'That is always the goal, especially at times like this!'

My third thought: 'Read the sign again.'

I did, and how it actually read was: 'Hold the pose.'

Hm. So, how many signs in life do we read wrong? Most signs are so common we know them by heart. What about figurative signs? You know, the metaphorical signs from the universe that are trying to tell us something very important.

When the universe is trying to tell us something, how often do we misinterpret it based on being frazzled or based on what's on our minds? (Remember, I'd wanted to find a restroom long before I'd reached the body scanner. Was that why I read the word "pose" as the word "pee?")

I thought about two of the young adults in A Christmas Haven. They're Amish--one is from the Old Order Amish sect and one is from the Swartzentruber Amish sect. (Swartzentruber Amish aim to live according to many of the laws in the Old Testament.) Each of them longs to understand the signs life is sending their way, but their comprehension is clouded by what they believe they 'should' be seeing and hearing from life.

It seems like a common problem. All I can say is at least they aren't in an airport body scanner, confused by the rather personal message. Hold the pose!

--Cindy Woodsmall
Email: [email protected]

Thanks for reading with me. It's so good to read with friends.

Suzanne Beecher
[email protected]

AUTHORBUZZ: Click here to discover new books, "meet" the authors and enter to win.

KADO: Lost Treasure of the Kadohadacho by E. Russell Braziel

Tom Murrell teams up with his new friends along with six Kado warriors to find Na-Da-cah-ah, an ancient treasure of the Kado. They race against time and with a band of renegade Osage chasing them.

Go to: AUTHORBUZZ click on KADO to read more and to email author E. Russell Braziel, you'll get a reply.

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This month's Penguin Classics book is THE PENGUIN BOOK OF MERMAIDS, edited by Cristina Bacchilega and Marie Alohalani Brown. I have a copy of the book to share with a lucky reader, so start reading today and enter for your chance to win.

 

Dear Reader Column 11-18-19

Dear Reader,

Rowland E. Richardson's story "Little Boy Blue" is one of this year's Honorable Mention pieces in the 15th Annual Write a DearReader Contest. Today's story made me smile, because like Rowland, I also remember saying to my mother, on more than one occasion, "I'm not wearing this to school."

Congratulations Rowland...

Little Boy Blue

I looked at my reflection and said, "No Mom, I'm not wearing this to school."

The seven year old boy that I saw in the mirror had the same look of stubborn resolve about the suit that Mom made me put on that morning. It was pastel blue with a sky blue vest and a powder blue dress shirt. It was supposed to be for next Easter Sunday church service, and that is not what I was objecting to. God expects you to look your best on the holiday that celebrates the death, burial, and resurrection of His Son. But this was Tuesday, and Mom had the wild idea that I should wear this blue suit to school. She wanted to show the world (or at least my school) how sharp my blue Easter suit was, but I knew better. A seven year old boy going to his second grade class at a Texas public school wearing a pastel blue suit was an invitation to butt-kicking.

I was going to get stomped...hard.

"Don't be silly," Mom said while she adjusted my lapels, "you look dashing. All the other boys will be jealous."

Looking back, I knew that I looked like the world's smallest wedding singer, and the other boys wouldn't be jealous. They would beat the crap out of me for not setting myself on fire.

I started taking the jacket off. "No Mom, I look like a dork. No way!"

She slapped my hands away, and her smile turned into an anger slash. "You will wear this suit to school, mister, or you can walk out of here naked."

Looking into her dark demented eyes, I didn't have the nerve to call her bluff. I stood by the curb, waiting for the bus, and knew that I was doomed because even my best friend Keith took one look at me and said, "Sorry, I'm gonna have to stomp you. That suit is just begging for it."

However, there was a ray of hope in all this. I could prove to my fellow classmates that I may look like a dork, but I can still play hard, and that I wasn't a complete sissy.

Which I did.

Recess was outside, and I did it all. Dodgeball, baseball, tag...I played every one. In the fresh spring grass and in the dirt. Call it revenge, or just a subconscious urge to avoid shame, but long story short...I ruined that suit. When I got home, some workers had dug three foot deep trenches behind our house, which was perfect for a little fantasy warfare.

I was just about to lead my GI Joe Assault Team to victory when Mom came home. She yelled at me to get out of that trench. When she saw the condition of that Easter blue suit as I crawled out of the muck...her screams were incredible.

And I never wore another suit ever again.

Rowland E. Richardson
Honorable Mention
2019 Write a DearReader Contest

Thanks for reading with me. It's so good to read with friends.

Suzanne Beecher
[email protected]

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ABANDON by Rachel Van Dyken

I'm so excited to bring you back to the celeb filled town of Seaside Oregon! Expect a lot of steam from Ty Cuban, Grammy-award winning Rockstar and the girl who got away! There's nothing better than a little hatred with a heavy dose of regret, then again, love conquers all, right?

Go to: AUTHORBUZZ click on ABANDON to read more and to email author Rachel Van Dyken, you'll get a reply.

KIDSBUZZ: Click here to discover new books, "meet" the authors and enter to win.

This month's Penguin Classics book is THE PENGUIN BOOK OF MERMAIDS, edited by Cristina Bacchilega and Marie Alohalani Brown. I have a copy of the book to share with a lucky reader, so start reading today and enter for your chance to win.