Smoky Mountain Recumbent Rally

This week, riding trikes through the Smoky Mountains in Tennessee inspired and delighted me. Perhaps it was the way shafts of sunlight shifted through the trees, or how mist rose from the mountains producing that smoky haze that gave the mountains their name.

Or maybe it was the ride itself.

In Cades Cove, it dawned on me that what I was breathing – fresher air, and seeing – lavender mountains, bear, and wild turkey, were not unique to my experience or anyone else's on the ride that day.

I felt cool breezes brush my face carrying the scents of clover, grass, and wood. Leaves and twigs crunched that made me turn to see what was there. Melodic birds flew and sang. Birds I do not know.

Perhaps the first humans on those mountains experienced the same smells, sights, and sounds as I. The thought still brings a smile to my face, as tiny feet dance up my spine.

Next week, a ventriloquist vlog. Be sure you watch.

Make it a good week,

Judy

"Garden Spells" Book Review

Garden Spells by Sarah Addison Allen, is a New York Times best seller. It also rates well on Amazon.

This review comes from friend and cozy mystery writer, Sally Handley. So if you're looking for a great fun summer read, try this book. (I have not read it yet, but plan to read it soon.)

The story line is that two sisters, abandoned by their mother when the girls were young, live very different lives.Claire stays in her home town, and tends a garden that produces magical powers, while Sydney, the other sister, totally different from Claire, leaves home. When Sydney returns, it throws Claire's world into unexpected turmoil.

The question is this; How will the sisters work out their differences and confront their past?

Garden Spells is whimsical fiction, (probably called chick-lit) set in the South that brings you under its spell. With a charming and quirky cast of likeable characters, the story begins with this line.

"Every smiley moon, without fail, Claire dreamed of her childhood. She always tried to stay awake those nights when the stars winked and the moon was just a cresting sliver smiling provocatively down at the world, the way pretty women on vintage billboards used to smile as they sold cigarettes and limeade."

if you read this book, please let me know what you think about it and if you would recommend it to someone.

Stay posted for a new vent vlog coming soon.

Quaint Love Story

Edenton NC was the setting for the Coastal Bike Ride last week. It's a beautiful and quaint town, rich in history. And I’m interested in history, not that I'm a historian at all, but curious about the stories that must surround these elaborate homes from the seventeen and eighteen hundreds. I love a good story. And with old houses so prevalent in this quiet coastal town, my imagination went to work. Here's one imagined scene.

 …

Unseasonably warm weather arrived early that year along the coast of North Carolina. Wildflowers bloomed in the woods, and children played outside until the moon rose high, and cast a million glittering jewels down on the sea.

A woman wearing a black dress, climbed the ladder to the widow's walk, as she had every morning and evening for the past three years. She searched the skyline where it met the sea, hoping and waiting for the faintest glimmer of a ship on the horizon.

Her house sat a few yards from the rocky shore. One night, the woman's two young daughters played on the rocks, when they saw a dark haunting figure, a figure that washed in with the tide. Maybe a sea creature. They couldn't be sure in the darkness. But when the form lumbered toward them, they screamed, grabbed their skirts and ran to the house. The creature retched and groaned. The girls screamed louder, and ran faster. The figure collapsed on the rocks, as the girls reached their back porch.

“Mama, there's a monster.

“It tried to eat us.”

“A sea monster.”

The woman, hurried from the stairs, ran without her shawl, and stumbled out the door. She fled from the back porch, dashed across the yard.

“Lizzie.” A voice moaned from the rocks.

The woman lurched, grabbed her skirts, sobbing, falling on the creature, embracing him. Her long lost husband. Exhausted. Limp. Alive. Home. At last.

dynamic imagery or not

Compared to a character like Daisy, book critics would seem like doting fan.

Fall into A Good Book

When I buy a book to read, I don't want it to be just a mystery, a romance, or an adventure. I want it to include some of each of those. I understand authors are supposed to know their genre, and follow the rules of that genre. But consider this analogy.

There was a time when speakers were categorized as motivational speakers, or humorists, or by their topics. But the truth is that an outstanding speech combines all of those, motivation, humor, topic facts, and entertainment.

So it is with good books. If a book is only a mystery, only a romance, I consider it thin.

And I want to see flawed characters. Characters who may have some cognitive dissonance going on, holding opposing attitudes or beliefs at the same time, like the heavy woman who jogs to the doughnut shop, or the boat captain who gets seasick. Come on. People are like that. But in the end, I want to see truth, and justice. Even if it's the possibility of a future Phoenix rising from the ashes. And I think most readers want that.

Here is one of my favorite poems, by one of my favorite poets, David McCord. It sums up for me, what makes a good book.

 Books Fall Open.

“Books fall open,

you fall in,

delighted where

you've never been;

hear voices not once

heard before,

reach world on world

through door on door;

find unexpected

keys to things

locked up beyond

imaginings...”
- David McCord