Archive for April 2017

Quote: truth is beauty, beauty truth–John Keats writing tip: make sure there is consistency in your characters.

This is a photo of what Topsail Island looked like in the 1930s. It sure is a far cry from what it looks like today.Things do change and I guess we have to roll with the flow or live in the past. Things could have looked a lot different if only another set of eyes…

Somebody has a great big flashlight. ya think? a very beautiful morning on the beach. The summer markets are coming up in about a month–Surf City Market and Pillage the Village in Topsail Beach. Everything from jewelry to food, veggies, pottery, wood work, photography, wine (some delicious home-made varieties) (the list goes on and on)…

A beautiful Easter Sunday on the water with Mark Helprin my new favorite author. Very exhilarating not only for the fact that it was a blustery day (came about swiftly and heeled to starboard–yikes!) but exhilarating in the passionate writing I found in the author’s stories. Check him out. QUOTE:  They choose what is interesting over…

QUOTE: It has long been an axiom of mine that the little things are infinitely the most important: Sir Arthur Conan Doyle WRITING TIP: keep it simple, keep it true.

It is always good. quote; My aim is to put down on paper what I see and what I feel in the best and simplest way-Ernest Hemingway. writing tip: Oh gee whiz! Another fool asking their family to critique their writing. OMG! please never do this. Your family sees you through a certain lens, one…

Now this is perdy! South end of the island and NO people. Loved it. It is a long trek around to the point, however. Reminds me a lot of Ocracoke. Looking forward to the trip up to the Outer Banks next month and hobnobbing with fellow writers. It never ceases to amaze me–the talented people…

Where it came from I have no idea (well, yes I do, but…..) the poetry bug has hit me and I haven’t written any of that stuff in ages. But alas (love that word,alas) the bug has bit me and I drift to la la land and listen to the muse. (Hate that word, muse).As…

The night is soft,like salt on my skinblown there by ocean breezes. The night is tender,it caresses me as ifit were a second layer of skin. The night easesthe descent offalling petals. Cradle of darkness,wrap so kindly, so tightlyand breathe in me your familiarity.It is siren kindand i need the night..        …