Sixty-six (66) 5-Star Reviews for Award-winning Picture Book AMAZING MATILDA!

Grab a Copy of this award winning book!!

Bette A. Stevens, Maine Author

MATILDA expertly as a cirus acrobat... 2016

About the book

This “Gem of a Tale” about a Monarch Butterfly teaches kids lessons in friendship, patience and persistence as AMAZING MATILDA transforms from egg to caterpillar to butterfly. (Children’s Picture Book/Ages 5-11).

Order your copies today:

AM Celebrate Season MATCHBOOK bas 2016

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Where can you submit your writing for free?

Great post for submissions!!

Jean's Writing

How about 30 plus places to submit your writing?

And they pay you!

Some of my scariest and most rewarding experiences as a writer happened when I stepped out of the shadows and submitted a story. Nothing beats reading, “We would like to feature your submission.”

Scary, yes, because I felt as though I were sending a piece of my soul out into the big bad world to be judged. Rewarding because acceptance is what I dream of as a writer.

Thanks to Erica Verrillo for providing us with this great list of publications looking for good writers. This month you can submit your favorite piece and get paid.

November is just getting started, so pull out that story from your slush pile, polish it till it gleams like a newly minted penny and hit send.

There is still time!

34 Calls for Submissions in November 2017 — Paying markets

I…

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Smorgasbord Post from Your Archives – Who Packs Your Parachute by Karen Ingalls.

Smorgasbord - Variety is the spice of life

Welcome to the series where you can share four of your links from your archives here on my blog to a new audience. Perhaps posts that you wrote at the beginning of your blogging experience that deserve another showcase. If you have book promotion posts then please contact me separately for other options. Details of how to get in touch with me at the end of the post.

Time for the next post from the archives of author Karen Ingalls. We all need someone who has our back, is by our side and who has our best interests at heart and can be relied on at any time.

Who Packs Your Parachute by Karen Ingalls.

I have never parachuted from a plane…nor do I want to. Sky jumping or diving is not on my bucket list. However, there is a deep message from the question,

“Who packs your parachute?”

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THE ITALIAN THING

The Writers Desk

From Nov. 8th to Dec. 15 you can purchase the Kindle edition of my book “The Italian Thing” for $1.99. I know you will enjoy reading all about our adventures and misadventures during our stay. Go to,https://www.amazon.com/Italian-Thing-Patricia-…/…/B00EL0AGIG, thank you and enjoy!!!

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My Shadow

The shadow hounded me Halloween day 
Glimpsed in farthest corners of my eyes 
Each time I turned, it slipped away 
Wherever Shadows run to hide 

It took not shape, nor any form, 
At least from what I briefly spied 
It seemed a darkly presence at my back 
I hurried home and ran inside 
Would its blackness fade with sunlight’s lack? 

No, it hovers just beyond my view 
In darkness shows its wicked might 
Taught me terrors I never knew 
I reached quickly for some light 

Each click, each lamp, 
brought no flare, no brightness 
To overcome  the dark 
Which made the Shadow aware 
That I could feel its evil mark 

Do I deserve this dreaded fate? 
My sins crossed o’er my mind and soul 
Must I now pay the devil’s toll? 
Or be redeemed too late? 
Only my Shadow knows . . .

The Witching Hours

THE WITCHING HOURS

Strange shadows dart stealthily across sparely lit streets, as dusk settles heavily on quiet neighborhoods of tree-lined sidewalks and cheerful well-kept homes. The eerie scream of a screech owl, more likely the brakes of a passing car, echoes deep into the night. Looming ominously from nearly every window is the menacing glare of smirking Jack-o-lanterns, while the often nervous refrain of “Trick or Treat” rings out in repetitious peals. Halloween is here, and with it the shivery remembrance of things that go bump in the night.

Halloween, a holiday once favored second to Christmas, is not as much fun as it used to be. The last few Halloweens have brought tampering scares, such as finding razors in apples and poisoned candy. A sick segment of society has forced many parents to hold neighborhood parties, instead of allowing their children to trick or treat. The tricks have been turned on the children, ruining an a once magical evening.

Gone are the days when children, dressed up hideously, or gaudily beautiful, could enter the home of a stranger, and be offered chilled apple cider with cinnamon stick straws, and homemade gingerbread, or cupcakes with orange icing and candy corn faces. No longer can mischievous children creep up on neighborhood porches to toss corn kernels against the front door, or generously soap window panes, without triggering house alarms and angering guard dogs kept behind locked fences. The mystical lure of Halloween is becoming a commercial enterprise for the sale of candy, costumes and decorations.

Halloween is a Christian name meaning All Hallows, or All Saint’s Day, but the custom of Halloween dates back to the Celtic cult in Northern Europe. As the Roman conquest pushed north, the Latin festival of the harvest god, Pomona, mingled with the Druid god, Samhain. Eventually, the Christians adopted the Celtic rites into their own observances.

Halloween signified the return of the herds from the pasture, renewal of laws and land tenures, and the practice of divination with the dead, presumed to visit their homes on this day. For both the Celts and the Anglo-Saxons, Halloween marked the eve of a new year. The Britain’s were convinced that divinations concerning health, death and luck, were most auspicious on Halloween. The devil, himself, was evoked for such purposes.

The Druid year began on November first, and on the eve of that day, the lord of death gathered the souls of the dead who had been condemned to enter the body of animals to decide what form they should take for the upcoming year; the souls of the good entered the body of another human at death. The Druids considered cats to be sacred, believing these animals had once been human, changed into cats as punishment for evil deeds.

The Druid cults were outlawed by the Romans during their reign in Great Britain, but the Celtic rites have survived, in part, to the present day. By the time these ancient rites migrated to America, the mystic significance was lost, and all that has remained is an evening when children can dress in outrageous costumes, and collect candy from obliging neighbors; yet a tiny part of every child still believes in witches, ghosts, and the nameless entities that creep about on Halloween, relatives, to their young minds, of the monster that lives under every child’s bed.

In the ancient days, it was believed that Halloween was the night chosen by witches and ghosts to freely roam, causing mischief and harm. Witchcraft existed before biblical times, believed in by ancient Egyptians, Romans and American Indians. The Christian Church held varying opinions on witchcraft, at one time accrediting it to be an illusion, later accepting it as a form of alliance with the devil. As late as 1768, disbelief in witchcraft was regarded as proof of atheism.

Halloween customs varied from country to country, but all were related to the Celtic rites. Immigrants to this country, particularly the Scotch and Irish, introduced some of the customs remaining today, but there were many more that are unfamiliar. On Halloween in Scotland, women sowed hemp seed into plowed land at midnight, repeating the formula: “Hemp seed I sow, who will my husband be, let him come and mow.” Looking over her left shoulder, a woman might see her future mate.

Apples and a six-pence were put into a tub of water, and whoever succeeded in extracting either of them with his mouth, but without using his teeth, was guaranteed a lucky year. In the highlands of Scotland in the 18th century, families would march about their fields on Halloween, walking from right to left, with lighted torches, believing this would assure good crops. In other parts of Scotland, witches were accused of stealing milk and harming cattle. Boys took peat torches and carried them across the fields, from left to right(widdershins), in an effort to scare the witches away.

The Scots strongly believed in fairies. If a man took a three-legged stool to an intersection of three roads, and sat on it at midnight, he might hear the names of the people destined to die in the coming year. However, if he tossed a garment to the fairies, they would happily revoke the death sentence.

Scotland’s witches held a party on Halloween. Seemingly ordinary women, who had sold their souls to the devil, put sticks, supposedly smeared with the fat of murdered babies, into their beds. These sticks were said to change into the likenesses of the women, and fly up the chimney on broomsticks, attended by black cats, the witches’ familiars.

In Ireland, a meal of callcannon, consisting of mashed potatoes, onions and parsnips, was solemnly served on Halloween. Stirred into this concoction, was a ring, a thimble, a coin, and a doll. The finder of the ring would marry soon, the finder of the doll would have many children, the thimble finder would never marry, and the one fortunate enough to find the coin would be rich. Jack-o-lanterns originated from Ireland, where according to newspaper editor and writer, George William Douglas, ” a stingy man named Jack was barred from Heaven because of his penuriousness, and forbidden to enter Hell because of his practical jokes on the devil, thus condemned to walk the earth with his lantern until Judgement Day.”

A more serious custom was the holding of the General Assembly(Freig) at Tara, in Celtic Ireland, celebrated every three years and lasting two weeks. Human sacrifices to the gods opened the ceremonies, the victims going up in flames.

England borrowed many of the Scotch and Irish customs, adding them to their own. Young people bobbed for apples, and tied a lighted candle to one end of a stick, and an apple to the other. The stick was suspended and set spinning, the object of the game being to bite the apple without getting burned by the candle. This custom was a relic of the fires lighted on the eve of Samhain in the ancient days of the Celts.

The only customs bearing no relation to the ancient rites is the masquerade costumes of today, and Halloween parades. But the custom of masked children asking for treats comes from the seventeenth century, when Irish peasants begged for money to buy luxuries for the feast of St. Columba, a sixth century priest, who founded a monastery off the coast of Scotland.

From the north of England comes the activity known as “mischief night”, marked by shenanigans with no particular purpose, or background. Boys and young men overturned sheds, broke windows, and damaged property. Mischief night prevails today, but is mostly limited to throwing eggs, smashing pumpkins, and lathering cars with shaving cream. The custom of trick or treat is observed mainly by small children, going from house to house. The treat is almost always given, and the trick rarely played, except by teenagers, who view Halloween as an excuse to deviate from acceptable behavior.

Children today, knowing little or nothing of the history and myths behind Halloween, still get exited over the prospect of acting out their fantasies of becoming a witch, ghost, devil, or pirate. It is still pleasurable for an adult, remembering Halloweens past, to see the glow on a child’s face as he removes his mask and assures you that he’s not really a skeleton. Watching the wide-eyed stares of young children warily observing flickering candle-lit pumpkins, is an assurance that even today, thousands of years beyond the witch and ghost-ridden days of the Druids, a little of the magic of Halloween remains. Children need a little magic to become creative adults; adults need a little magic to keep the child in them alive. So if, on this Halloween, you notice a black cat slink past your door, trailing behind a horde of make-believe goblins, it probably belongs to a neighbor. And the dark shadow whisking across the face of a nearly full moon is only the wisp of a cloud, not a witch riding a broom… probably.

By the pricking of my thumbs,

Something wicked this way comes.

Open, locks,

Whoever knocks!

-Shakespeare

MY SHADOW

My Shadow

The shadow hounded me Halloween day 
Glimpsed in farthest corners of my eyes 
Each time I turned, it slipped away 
Wherever Shadows run to hide 

It took not shape, nor any form, 
At least from what I briefly spied 
It seemed a darkly presence at my back 
I hurried home and ran inside 
Would its blackness fade with sunlight’s lack? 

No, it hovers just beyond my view 
In darkness shows its wicked might 
Taught me terrors I never knew 
I reached quickly for some light 

Each click, each lamp, 
brought no flare, no brightness 
To overcome  the dark 
Which made the Shadow aware 
That I could feel its evil mark 

Do I deserve this dreaded fate? 
My sins crossed o’er my mind and soul 
Must I now pay the devil’s toll? 
Or be redeemed too late? 
Only my Shadow knows . . .