FINDING THE SPIRIT OF CHRISTMAS IN WALMART

I was rushing around today, fretting over the long list of undone errands that still remained. I pulled into WalMart and hurried in a door opposite the dear old Salvation Army bell-ringer I had visited on previous visits, intending to hurry through my list.

I hated the panic rising in my chest as I thought about the list and the ticking clock. I hated how I was allowing these things to erode my desire to keep the Spirit of Christ in Christmas, so I chastised myself with a little challenge.

"Find one person and spread a little cheer, Laurie."

A tired-looking woman was in line in front of me, counting dollars from her bank envelope as she pushed her few things to the register. I chatted with her about one of her items and we laughed over trends and fads and children.

The checker looked even more tired, but she greeted me, her chatty customer, with a smile. She asked me a question about a small decoration I was buying, and in passing, she mentioned that she wasn't doing much this year, and that she had done almost nothing last year because her 18-year-old son had been in shock trauma and was still suffering from his injuries

 I read her name tag as she briefly shared her story, and when I left her station I wished her a Merry Christmas and extended my wish for her son's improved health. As I drove away, I wished I had had something to give her to lift her spirits. And then I remembered the three invitations to the Christmas Concert I tucked in my purse.

I circled through town and back to the WalMart with my three treasures in my hand. I hurried up to the bell-ringer and handed him a card. "You've been out here for weeks, bringing everyone else cheer. I'd like to return the favor and bring you some. Would you like to come to a Christmas concert?"

He was flabbergastered for a moment, and then he thanked me several times, adding a hearty Merry Christmas to his response. I hurried on to find my checker, but in those brief moments, she had gone on a break. I raced over to the Customer Service desk and asked if the agent knew this particular colleague. She did and she agreed to give the card to her.

On the way out, I bumped into the parent of my children's friend, a woman I hadn't seen in years, and after a sweet chat, she became the recipient of my third invitation. I was elated, maybe even a bit over enthusiastic as I walked past the bell-ringer. I reiterated my invitation. "I really hope you'll come!"

He probably thought I was a nut but his laughter sounded in my ears as I returned to my car. The events were small, but my once panicked heart had changed in those few minutes because I forced myself to slow down and remember that people always trump errands and gifts. Heaven changed my heart, and the spirit of Christmas returned.

 

 

 

MIKEY BROOKS' and "THE DREAMSTONE"--What happens when a big kid masquerading as an adult builds his own world?

Mikey Brooks has faithfully cheered other authors on, but since his series, "The Dream Keeper Chronicles" debuted, people are excited to return the favor and cheer for him and his action-packed fantasies.

Volume Two of his series, The Dreamstone, debuted in early December to the delight of Dream Keeper readers. It thrusts its young heroes--Parker and Kaelyn--back into the now-broken realm of Dreams, fraught with difficulties, dangers and enemies.

Brooks brilliantly encapsulates the stakes in The Dream Keeper with this tease from the back cover of book one:

 Dorothy called it Oz, Alice called it Wonderland, but Nightmares call it HOME.
When an evil shifter took over the gateway to the realm of Dreams, it fell to 14-year-olds Parker and Kaelyn to stop him. Their only hope lay with Gladamyr, the Dream Keeper, but could they trust a Nightmare to save their world?

Show more

Show less

In the sequel novel, Dreamstone, Brooks rebooks his readers on a return journey to the realm of Dreams to help Parker save his mom.

When Parker’s mom is dreamnapped by the wicked Mab, it is up to him and Kaelyn to save her. When they return to Dreams, they discover Mab isn’t their only problem. Gladamyr has lost his powers and the only way to get them back is to become what he fears the most—a nightmare.


Readers have taken to the Internet with high praise, (see below) for Mikey Brooks' imaginative series, so I caught up with this self-professed-kid-masquerading-as-an-adult, to hitch a ride on his Dreamstone blog tour and pick his brain on a critical aspect of writing a fantasy--world building.

Thanks, Mikey, for providing a glimpse into the process of preparing a world where a fantasy can come to life. I'm sure readers will enjoy "getting into your brain." Then readers, take a ride on the blog tour and enter to win some of the wonderful launch prizes Mikey Brooks has assembled. Links to his site are below so you can read excerpts from his books, and purchase links are also there in time for giving The Dream Keepers Chronicles to your favorite fantasy reader. Enjoy!

Welcome to the Official Blog Tour of:

THE DREAMSTONE,

Book Two in The Dream Keeper Chronicles

A thrilling fantasy-adventure series for middle-grade readers!

_______________________________________________________________ 

Don't forget to check out the GIVEAWAY

at the bottom of this page for a chance

to win one of over 30 prizes! 

_______________________________________________________________

World Building: A piece of Cake

A Guest Post by: Mikey Brooks

As writer of fantasy I get to do a lot of really cool things. My favorite is coming up with new worlds for my characters to explore.  I can create these worlds to be like our own, or I can do something as fantastical as Dr. Seuss. I believe world building is one of the hardest topics to discuss because there is so much information that goes into creating a new world. Of course I won’t be fitting everything into this guest post, but I’d like to touch on a few key things.

I heard a great analogy for world building from a terrific fantasy writer, Cas Peace, author of the Artesansof Albia Trilogy.  She compared world building to making cakes.  Because I once worked as a professional cake decorator, I naturally thought this was the greatest idea I had ever heard. Cas shared that like cakes, world building has many layers. They have the inner layers (the stuff we don’t see until we cut into it) and the pretty frosted outside (the things that are seen right away).  Not every cake is made the same way, and neither should our worlds.

I can think of all the different times I made a German chocolate cake. The recipe was always the same. I layered it with the filling and then frosted the outside as I always did. But no matter how I tried, one cake was never identical to the next. There was always a slight variation of chocolate drizzle, or something—always one small change. Our world building should be like this. Take what is familiar, our world for example, and change something small—something so basic you wouldn’t think it would matter, and then see what happens.

In the world J.K. Rowling created, she’d change just one thing—in her world, magic existed. That added a whole new layer to the world of Harry Potter. Would the story even have existed without that change? In the Dream Keeper Chronicles, I did something similar as Rowling—I changed one thing—I made Dreams a real place. This changed nothing on the surface of my cake, but it added a whole new layer to my world.  What would happen if we changed an event in history, say the extinction of the dinosaurs? How different would our world look then? What about the fall of the Nazis? Or the disbelief in the Greek gods? Changing something small can create endless possibilities.

However you decide to make your world is up to you. All cakes are different, but all use frosting, flour, eggs, and sugar. The fun is what you do with the ingredients. They can be covered in buttercream, which is soft and creamy, or whipped cream which is fluffy.  They could have fondant icing which is smooth like satin, or royal icing which can be hard and textured. There really is no limit to your world. Have fun creating!

_______________________________________________________________

I am happy to announce the release of THE DREAMSTONE,

Book two in THE DREAM KEEPER CHRONICLES.

When Parker’s mom is dreamnapped by the wicked Mab, it is up to him and Kaelyn to save her. However when they return to Dreams, they discover Mab isn’t their only problem. Gladamyr has lost his powers and the only way to get them back is to become what he fears the most—a nightmare.

In Praise of THE DREAMSTONE:

“The Dreamstone, by Mikey Brooks, is a wild stallion of a story: fast, thrilling, and unpredictable. I was hooked in chapter one. If he can snare the attention of an old reader like me, he’ll have kids sneaking this one into class underneath their text books…If this one isn’t a kid-pleaser, I don’t know what is.” –Michelle Isenhoff, author of the Divided Decade Trilogy and the Taylor Davis Series.

This is far out good and entertaining. It will become a pre-teen to young adult and the young of heart’s favorite. The tale is clean, wholesome and riveting. It is must have in every home and school library” –Anna del C. Dye, author of The Silent Warrior Trilogy.

“This really is a cracking novel. Action-packed and spellbinding!”—Cas Peace, author of The Artisans of Albia series.

"If you like the Percy Jackson, Fablehaven, or the Harry Potter series, you'll love this!" –An Amazon Reviewer.

BOOK LINKS:
Paperback: http://www.amazon.com/dp/1939993237 
Hardback: http://www.amazon.com/dp/1939993229
eBook: http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00GP33YZO

_______________________________________________

a Rafflecopter giveaway

That First Thanksgiving

Happy Thanksgiving everyone! I hope you'll spend this day with friends and family. I've posted a lot about my own family's gathering. I'm reminded today of that first gathering, a celebration after the sacrifice wrought by parents who riske...d everything to follow their conscience, to make a better life for their children and the generations that would follow. Conscience and principle meant more to them than the lives they risked on the daring venture they undertook. Their spirit is woven into the fabric of this country, and her people. Today, I give thanks for them, and for this land which I love so dearly. Which we all love so dearly. Enjoy the festivities, and as we do, let's remember that this day, as much as any other we celebrate, is about sacrifice, and conscience, about principles and freedom.

Love to all. Here's some sweet records from that first dinner. Enjoy.

****************************

These tender messages from those who attended the first Thanksgiving are provided by PILGRIM HALL MUSEUM. Other lovely letters, and information is available at their web site as well.

This evocative painting, titled "The First Thanksgiving at Plymouth," was painted by Jennie A. Brownscombe (1850-1936), in Honesdale, PA, or New York, in 1914.

***************************

There are 2 (and only 2) primary sources for the events of autumn 1621 in Plymouth : Edward Winslow writing in Mourt's Relation and William Bradford writing in Of Plymouth Plantation.

Edward Winslow, Mourt's Relation :

"Our harvest being gotten in, our governour sent foure men on fowling, that so we might after a speciall manner rejoyce together, after we had gathered the fruits of our labours ; they foure in one day killed as much fowle, as with a little helpe beside, served the Company almost a weeke, at which time amongst other Recreations, we exercised our Armes, many of the Indians coming amongst us, and amongst the rest their greatest king Massasoyt, with some ninetie men, whom for three dayes we entertained and feasted, and they went out and killed five Deere, which they brought to the Plantation and bestowed on our Governour, and upon the Captaine and others. And although it be not always so plentifull, as it was at this time with us, yet by the goodness of God, we are so farre from want, that we often wish you partakers of our plentie.

"In modern spelling"our harvest being gotten in, our governor sent four men on fowling, that so we might after a special manner rejoice together, after we had gathered the fruits of our labors; they four in one day killed as much fowl, as with a little help beside, served the Company almost a week, at which time amongst other Recreations, we exercised our Arms, many of the Indians coming amongst us, and amongst the rest their greatest king Massasoit, with some ninety men, whom for three days we entertained and feasted, and they went out and killed five Deer, which they brought to the Plantation and bestowed on our Governor, and upon the Captain and others. And although it be not always so plentiful, as it was at this time with us, yet by the goodness of God, we are so far from want, that we often wish you partakers of our plenty."

William Bradford, Of Plimoth Plantation :In the original 17th century spelling:

"They begane now to gather in ye small harvest they had, and to fitte up their houses and dwellings against winter, being all well recovered in health & strenght, and had all things in good plenty; fFor as some were thus imployed in affairs abroad, others were excersised in fishing, aboute codd, & bass, & other fish, of which yey tooke good store, of which every family had their portion. All ye somer ther was no want. And now begane to come in store of foule, as winter approached, of which this place did abound when they came first (but afterward decreased by degrees). And besids water foule, ther was great store of wild Turkies, of which they tooke many, besids venison, &c. Besids, they had about a peck a meale a weeke to a person, or now since harvest, Indean corn to yt proportion. Which made many afterwards write so largly of their plenty hear to their freinds in England, which were not fained, but true reports."

In modern spelling:

"They began now to gather in the small harvest they had, and to fit up their houses and dwellings against winter, being all well recovered in health and strength and had all things in good plenty. For as some were thus employed in affairs abroad, others were exercised in fishing, about cod and bass and other fish, of which they took good store, of which every family had their portion. All the summer there was no want; and now began to come in store of fowl, as winter approached, of which this place did abound when they came first (but afterward decreased by degrees). And besides waterfowl there was great store of wild turkeys, of which they took many, besides venison, etc. Besides, they had about a peck of meal a week to a person, or now since harvest, Indian corn to that proportion. Which made many afterwards write so largely of their plenty here to their friends in England, which were not feigned but true reports."

NOTE : The Mayflower arrived in Plymouth in December of 1620. No further ships arrived in Plymouth until immediately after that "First Thanksgiving" - the Fortune arrived in November of 1621.

One of the passengers on the Fortune, William Hilton, wrote a letter home that November. Although he was not present at that "First Thanksgiving," he does mention turkeys.


THE 53 PILGRIMSAT THE FIRST THANKSGIVING :
4 MARRIED WOMEN : Eleanor Billington, Mary Brewster, Elizabeth Hopkins, Susanna White Winslow.5 ADOLESCENT GIRLS : Mary Chilton (14), Constance Hopkins (13 or 14), Priscilla Mullins (19), Elizabeth Tilley (14 or15) and Dorothy, the Carver's unnamed maidservant, perhaps 18 or 19.9 ADOLESCENT BOYS : Francis & John Billington, John Cooke, John Crackston, Samuel Fuller (2d), Giles Hopkins, William Latham, Joseph Rogers, Henry Samson.13 YOUNG CHILDREN : Bartholomew, Mary & Remember Allerton, Love & Wrestling Brewster, Humility Cooper, Samuel Eaton, Damaris & Oceanus Hopkins, Desire Minter, Richard More, Resolved & Peregrine White.22 MEN : John Alden, Isaac Allerton, John Billington, William Bradford, William Brewster, Peter Brown, Francis Cooke, Edward Doty, Francis Eaton, [first name unknown] Ely, Samuel Fuller, Richard Gardiner, John Goodman, Stephen Hopkins, John Howland, Edward Lester, George Soule, Myles Standish, William Trevor, Richard Warren, Edward Winslow, Gilbert Winslow.
FAMILY GROUPS :
ALDEN : John
ALLERTON : Isaac with children Bartholomew, Mary, Remember; the Allerton servant William Latham
BILLINGTON : John & Eleanor with sons Francis, John Jr.
BRADFORD : William
BREWSTER : William & Mary with sons Love, Wrestling; their ward Richard More
BROWNE / BROWN : Peter
CARVER: The Carver ward Desire Minter; the Carver servant John Howland; the Carver maidservant Dorothy.
CHILTON : Mary
COOKE : Francis with son John
CRACKSTON : John
EATON : Francis with son Samuel
ELY: Unknown adult man
FULLER : Samuel with nephew Samuel 2d
GARDINER : Richard
GOODMAN : John
HOPKINS : Stephen & Elizabeth with Giles, Constance, Damaris, Oceanus; their servants Edward Doty and Edward Leister.
MULLINS : Priscilla
ROGERS : Joseph
STANDISH : Myles
TILLEY : Elizabeth
TILLEY: Tilley wards Humility Cooper and Henry Samson
TREVOR / TREVORE : William
WARREN : Richard
WINSLOW : Edward & Susanna with her sons Resolved White & Peregrine White; Winslow servant George Soule
WINSLOW : Gilbert
Note : In Of Plymouth Plantation, William Bradford lists the Mayflower passengers and also tells us who died during the first winter of 1620/1621 and spring of 1621. No other ships arrived in Plymouth until after the "First Thanksgiving" celebration. The Pilgrims at the "First Thanksgiving" are all the Mayflower survivors.

Gratitude Post: "The Good Ole Days"

Tom's favorite station is Encore Westerns, ergo, we watch a lot of Bonanza and Gunsmoke reruns, and other fare where white-hatted heroes risk life and limb for noble causes like their sacred honor, the virtue of womenfolk, the good of neighbors and country, the family farm, and the local bank where all the locals' life savings is likely stored. They were simple themes that reflected the core values of America. They were the good ole days.

I read "Make Way For Ducks," with my grandkids and missed the scenes of a slower time when people sat on park benches and chatted in the sun, when a treasured toy was made from wood and powered by imagination, when you could have a blast with change pulled from between the lint in your pocket.

I imagine that our children and grandchildren will look back on these days in the future, and say, "They were the good ole days." So whatever your good ole days really are, I'm grateful for them.  They serve as a cultural barometer of where we are, where we're headed, and how we're doing. Memories of them promise that we can enjoy them again and again, because the core principles that fueled them are still within us.

Gratitude Posts, Friday, November 22

For a techno-newbie like me, the Internet and computers are still a wonder. I remember the old data-processing rooms at school where monster-sized machines that could sort punch cards were the marvel of the day. I now literally hold libraries in my hand, along with a comprehensive glimpse of all facets of my life. It's incredible.

As an author, I can research files and collections from around the globe, take virtual tours of buildings, cities, and even countries. Any subject about which I care to learn is laid open to me, limited only my my imagination and curiosity.

I can make new friends, connect with old friends, and speak to loved ones faraway as if they were in the next room. I can dream of a new challenge, research it, and arrange to fulfill it with a few simple keystrokes. I saw a recipe for a homemade body scrub. Within minutes I had not only studied the steps for making it but I had the ingredients winging their way to my home. Marvelous!

I know more about my ever-changing world than I can process, and I have at my fingertips the means and power to have my own voice and opinions broadcast far and wide without leaving my chair. But so can others, and so we enter a world that requires careful filtering. There are no worldwide editors checking for accuracy or value in what we might find here, and no Internet police protecting us from material that assaults sensibilities. Each who enters the cyber-world holds a Pandora's box of choices, which not only challenges our minds, but our ethics.

With that in mind, I still rejoice over the possibilities this technology affords me, for the expanded opportunities to learn, to grow, to entertain, and to communicate. And for that, I am very grateful.

GRATITUDE POSTS, November 20, 2013

I've spent the past week fretting over paint colors, redoing a tired bathroom, then recovering from twisting my body around in weird ways to paint the wall and trim above the tub. My house is growing old, and like its owners, it needs some love and help here and there, but I still love this old place. This is the winter view from the front porch.

The dreams of a comfy house on several sprawling acres played out well for our growing family, but now Tom and I are the last Lews left, and our days on this old place are likely numbered, and that is a sobering truth.

Though we've painted and changed things a bit, each room remains a time capsule of memories. Joshua was the only newborn brought home to this house. Adam, Amanda, and Tom arrived in stairsteps from one to five years, but they all grew here, graduated and launched their lives from here. Their bedrooms still have some of their stuff squirrelled away in closets and drawers. Stuff they pull out on semi-annual visits home during their own momentary retreats into childhood. Our oldest son is 35 and he occasionally runs down the hall and jumps on our bed to demonstrate the belly-flop technique his perfected on Sundays after church.

The voices are silent now, but I can remember the quiet talks over broken hearts and after disciplinary incarcerations, laughter in abundance, and prayers spoken by bedsides. I remember snuggling under blankets and eating popcorn as we watched the old Christmas specials, and the weekly games of Monopoly that almost always degraded into a war. Three walls still have scars from wrestling matches and overly exuberant, plaster-cracking hugs. Peace and love at home was not measured by stillness but by volume, and numbers of feet as kids gathered in a no-alcohol, no-tobacco, my-momma-will-kill-you-if-you-swear household after games, after proms, and after plays. Our kitchen became the Little Debbie Cake-eating capital of the world.

I'm actually crying as I write this thing. That's how strong the memories are, but you know. You have powerful memories of your own that are tied to places and moments you'll treasure always.

So the day will eventually come when we'll hand the key over to someone new, hopefully to a family with lots of kids, and we'll settle elsewhere, in a smaller house on less land, to make a new generation of memories. But for today, I'm grateful for this old house, and for the privilege of raising our tribe here.

GRATITUDE GIVEAWAY

Many thanks to Kathy Habel at "I Am A Reader Not A Writer" for sponsoring this blog hop, and for giving me an opportunity to say "Thank you," to my readers who have hung in with the blog this year, even when life interrupted my ability to post regularly.

As is the custom on this particular hop, this one's for you. No hoops to jump through, no long lists of duties.

If you're already a follower of this blog, all you have to do to enter is to  . . . well . . . enter! Post a little note below and make sure to include an email address.

If you're not a follower, I'd love you follow and come back, but it's not necessary to enter this hop.

My prize is a package of four books. John Grisham's Skipping Christmas has been gently read, but the other three books are new, off my author's shelf.

I'll autograph them for the winner, or for someone else if the winner chooses to give them away as gifts.

Again, many thanks for another year of support and friendship. I hope your holidays are lovely and peaceful.

Laurie L.C. Lewis

PS...  Now enjoy these other stops on the hop!