New Year, New Post!

You're here!

Me too!

The place doesn't look bad considering I haven't been here in a while. I miss it. I miss you, too. Let me come back when I have something pithy to say. I hope you'll come back, too. 💗

BONO'S LOVE SONG TO US Part One


So I’m back! And on the other side of the U2 Joshua Tree concert last night in Tampa at that huge pirate stadium, the Raymond James Stadium which seats up to 75,000 people. Almost of us were there last night, gathered for the celebration.

I’ve been waiting for this concert since the last time U2 came to Central Florida. Tickets purchased in January, I’ve been in a countdown to U2 since practically Christmas. But I’d wait until the end of the world if I had to.

It’s raining. Please don’t rain tonight. Or don’t rain in Tampa tonight. Or rain in Tampa right now so the rain will be exhausted by the time Bono and I and a few others meet in a musical landscape of yearning and pleasure.

In my closet, nothing looks right. I’d planned to wear my Janis Joplin top but it now feels too complicated a top for the freedom of an outdoor arena. What if rains? I know I’ve got to be dressed for the weather. Rummaging through, jeans—too hot; kicky black dress—too dressy, plus it would require heels and I can’t see walking through probably mud with my heels sinking into the sticky slick upon every step. What about my little summer dress? Strappy, with a cutline that flows at the midthigh. Oh, it’s perfect. And I can wear my flat sandals with it.

It’s still raining. We’re in the car, windshield wipers slapping back and forth over the glass. The only clear vision is immediately after the wipers pass, after which it’s a splash of rain washing over. Every breaking wave

On the highway, we crest a one tree hill, then all I can see forever down the road is red brake lights. “Oh, my gosh,” I say.

My driver consults his phone. “It goes all the way to Lakeland. It’s red all the way to Lakeland.”

That’s over halfway there.

It doesn’t bother me because I don’t believe it.

An hour later, I’m a believer. We’re only halfway to Lakeland when we should be driving through by now. My driver is stressed. I convince him to drop off the toll road and slide through McDonald’s. I’m famished, but I don’t want to be thinking about that when I’m singing. I haven’t eaten since eight this morning, and even then all I had was a little praline pecan muffin. All the cars in front of us and all the cars beside us and the cars behind us pull off with us and turn into McDonald’s. Everyone’s in front of us in line. Cashier runs out of tape. Manager’s yelling about French Fries. Orders stack up without being delivered. Is my driver mad at me? I glance at him. No, I’m in the clear.

I swear everything is working together to make us late. But I don’t feel stressed. “It doesn’t matter if we miss the warm-up band.” OneRepublic, but I’m willing to sacrifice them for U2. “That gives us at least till 8:00. Or 8:30”

I add that last part after insta-calculating Okay, even if they start on time, the first band will play till 8, then give a half hour to turn the stage around, so U2 at 8:30.

Five star lighting splits the sky and thunders down, God striking a gavel through the clouds. The whapWhap of wipers back and forth. Electrical storm. The sky is a different kind of blue, that swirling, smokey blue, drawn up in the clouds as a churning windmill of heaven and hell. Typical summer rain in sun city. We’ve been in the car for three hours to complete only half of what is usually a two hour trip. I haven’t seen an accident and yeah, with the rain, there’s no line on the horizon, but we’ve all driven in this before. Looking around I see only Florida plates. Then it hits me: they’re all going to U2. Everyone on this road is going to see U2. As soon as I think it, I know it’s true.

Okay, breathe, Danette, breathe.

Can you breathe too?

Part Two of X Coming up later.

Word Epiphany

Stephen Wright wanted to become more learned, so he read the dictionary. He figured with all the words inside, it contained every book ever written.

I actually do read the dictionary sometimes--a page here and there. I love etymology.

The other day, I stared at the word, "disease," in a piece I was reading. Disease, disease, disease. Say any word over and over again, and it no longer sounds like a real word. I don't know why I fixate on these things, but I do!

DISEASE. Root word being EASE.

The qualifying prefix, "did," is the most powerful part of this word. DIS, according to Dictionary dot com is "a Latin prefix meaning 'apart,' 'asunder,' 'away,' utterly,'or having a privative, negative, or reversing force. Not being familiar with "privative," I also looked it up: "consisting in or characterized by the taking away, loss, or lack of something."

So DISEASE is characterized by the TAKING AWAY OF or the splitting asunder of FREEDOM from labor, pain, comfort; freedom from concern, anxiety, or solicitude; freedom from difficulty or great effort; freedom from stiffness or constraint.

No lecture or hidden meaning intended. I simply find amazing the power of words when we stop and truly consider their meanings.

NOT My Year in Photos!

Well!


I've been struggling to post a plethora of photos using my phone because that's where all my photos are! Blogger even has, as one of the photo sources, From Your Phone. It displays almost twenty photos, but my phone contains more than fifteen hundred photos! Clearly, I must research updating my blog from my phone.

Until then, Merry Christmas!
Avalon!
Danette Haworth

Alfie & Casey

Vicerys (How I've missed you!)




K

Preacher Jovan Lawson on Women Working Out!

One of my favorite FL comedians!

Preacher Jovan Lawson notices an important omission in how women work out. Here he is, developing the bit at Diverse Word, but it's already perfect! Preacher, I can't wait to see your inevitable Comedy Central Special!

(Filmed w iPhone, Diverse Word open mic, host: Shawn Welcome; every Tuesday @ 7:30pm, Dandelion Communitea Cafe)


Happy Proverbs Mother's Day!*

I love my kids. 

Some time ago, when my friends and I were young mothers, we bemoaned the constant monitoring we had to do, keeping our toddlers from jumping off couches, climbing unsteady structures, darting across the road, etc.

An older friend interjected, saying she wished it were still the days in which all she had to was worry about the physical safety of her son (in his teens).

"How do I protect him now--how do I protect him from peer pressure or low self esteem? How do I do that?"

She was right on the money. These intangible hazards are far more dangerous than the physical injuries from which we early on protect our children. Parenting today is harder than ever before, with the ubiquity of the Internet (phones, tablets, laptops) and its easy access to questionable content.

Parents can no longer be gatekeepers. Yet we don't want to deny children access to the very technology that is a daily part of academic and professional life. Therefore, it becomes imperative for us as parents to establish a true foundation, something our children can rely on when they encounter problematic cyberspace content without parental guidance:

"Train up a child in the way he should go, and when he is old, he will not depart from it" (Proverbs 22:6).

Jesus said, "I am the way, the truth, and the life. No man cometh unto the Father but through me" (John 14:6).

Therefore, train up your child in Jesus, and as your child journeys through this life, he will not depart from Jesus, the truth, or Life with our Father, who art in Heaven.


*PROVERBS

Proverbs 1:8
Listen, my son, to your father’s instruction and do not forsake your mother’s teaching.

My son, keep your father’s command and do not forsake your mother's teaching.

Listen to your father, who gave you life, and do not despise your mother when she is old.

May your father and mother rejoice; may she who gave you birth be joyful!

How's Your Holiday Season Going?

My holiday season has never been easier. My kitchen was ripped out in September--and has only now been put back together--and my downstairs carpet will be ripped out a few days before Christmas to have new carpet reinstalled. This construction is due to a major leak discovered late summer.

Again, my holiday season has never been easier! I mean it! This year, I didn't--COULDN'T--cook for Thanksgiving. Christmas--I can't decorate downstairs because EVERYTHING has to be moved off the carpet a couple of days before Christmas. (There is a landing upstairs where I will put a small tree and the presents--a Christmas corner, if you will.)

No mess & no stress,
This season's a success!



True Enough


New Website Address for Danette Haworth!

Hello all!

Somehow, my dot com domain name got swiped a few weeks ago. I'm trying to get the dot com address back, but now Danette Haworth is dot net website!

Yay! I'm back online!

Marine Fish, Materiel? Material? A Former Technical Writer Investigates

So I just read an article that stated the inhabitants of old Scotland probably had as the mainstay of their diet meat and marine fish. What? asks I. Aren't all fish marine, as in, "of the water?"

Then technical writer DH appeared on my shoulder. "Remember materiel," she whispered in my ear.

How well I do remember materiel. On my first day as a technical writer--while still a student!--my boss plopped a 500 page technical report from the Army. "Edit this," he said.

I stared at that technical ream of paper in fear. What did I know of Army things? "This is what you're going to school for. You can do this," one of my inside voices said. I picked up my red pen and started reading. (In later months, I would switch to #2 pencil--the red pen made me feel as if I were yelling.)

A few pages in, I came across the word "materiel." My hand swiped up, my wrist cocked, but I held my fire. I knew only the material on my back or the materials needed for an art project, but this was a brave new world I was entering--a world wherein "materiel" might be a word. I cracked open my new Merriam-Webster and found materiel somewhere after material but before mateship. Glad was I, having harkened the internal editor, and gladder still for not having made an embarrassing edit on my first day.

Not all fish are marine fish; marine fish are saltwater fish, as opposed to fresh water fish. I will rest easy tonight with this new knowledge.

Website Down, The Mouse, and School Visits

Hello all! It's another dreary day here in the Sunshine State. I like to tell people we have only two seasons: hot, and hot and rainy. Do not visit THE MOUSE in summer! You'll likely be drenched to the bone, then frozen by the AC. (That's when they swap you out for an aminatron, ala Stepford Wives). And when it's not raining, the heat and the humidity will press you right down to a smear on the concrete, which The Mouse's minions will wipe up and dispose of before anyone notices you're missing.

Now to the subject at hand: My website is down. This is a problem for me because I wanted to update my school visit schedule. Because I don't know how soon the site will be back up, I wanted to let you know I have begun to book visits for next school year. Twenty-minute Skype visits are free to groups who've read my work. If you'd like me to visit in person, I have a variety of presentations and I also provide writing workshops for students who want to polish or publish their work.

If you're interested in having me visit, send me a message! My email address is dhaworthbooks at yahoo dot com.

Anna M. from London wins A WHOLE LOT OF LUCKY!

Goodreads has selected Anna M. from London to receive a free, signed hardcover of my fourth novel, A WHOLE LOT OF LUCKY!


The contest ran for only two and half weeks, yet garnered almost eight hundred entries--thank you so much to all who participated.

Anna, A WHOLE LOT OF LUCKY is coming your way!

Flash Fiction Contest with Prizes and Critiques!

You don't even have to be female to enter the WOW! Spring 2014 Flash Fiction Contest sponsored by WOW! Women on Writing--you just have to write your best 750 words or less and pay a ten dollar entry fee (additional ten dollars for critique).

I've entered several of their contests, placed and not placed, and I highly recommend not only the contest, but the website itself. When I started writing seriously in 2007, I discovered Wow! Women on Writing,and I felt I'd found friends, people to whom I could learn from and whose words encouraged me.

If you've never visited their site, you've got a lot of good stuff waiting for you. Check out current articles and contests, and don't forget to pore through the archives. This is the kind of website that makes you feel as though you are in the company of friends.

Good luck, and have a great day!

A Whole Lot of Lucky: Behind the scenes look at title development

Titles--heartache city! The title must do everything a synopsis or query does: grab the reader, provide a summary, and hint at the action yet to come. A lot of time goes into working up a good title, and it's not just the author's work, either. The editor, the editor's coworkers, and sales and marketing all have their say; everyone's input must be considered.

Titles cooked up and rejected for A WHOLE LOT OF LUCKY:

  • Two Flavors of Lucky
  • The Year of My Magnificent Luckiness
  • Three Million Dollar Girl
  • The Duplicitous Luckiness of Hailee Richardson
  • Serendippitydoo
  • Lucky Me
  • Impossibly Possibly Lucky
  • Hailee Richardson, Girl Millionaire
My editor and I brainstormed pages of titles and promptly rejected most of them. The problem lies in the word "lucky:" phrases involving "getting lucky" are imbued with the wrong kind of nuance! Also, we wanted to avoid words like jackpot or other buzzwords that are too close too gambling. (This was hard, because even the buying of a lottery ticket is gambling.)

My sister suggested "A Whole Lotto Lucky," and the powers that be loved her suggestion! With a bit of morphing, my sister's words became A WHOLE LOT OF LUCKY.

Now you can try your luck without all the heartache my editor and I went through! For a free, signed hardcover of A WHOLE LOT OF LUCKY, just enter the Goodreads contest!


Goodreads Book Giveaway

A Whole Lot of Lucky by Danette Haworth

A Whole Lot of Lucky

by Danette Haworth

Giveaway ends March 31, 2014.
See the giveaway details at Goodreads.
Enter to win

Be Lucky--Win a Free Book!

If you're lucky enough to be Irish, you're lucky enough. 

This month, everyone has the chance to be lucky! 
Win a Free hardcover of A WHOLE LOT OF LUCKY! 

Kirkus Reviews pinned a nice, big, blue star on A Whole Lot of Lucky, so what are you waiting around here for? Enter now at Goodreads!



Goodreads Book Giveaway

A Whole Lot of Lucky by Danette Haworth

A Whole Lot of Lucky

by Danette Haworth

Giveaway ends March 31, 2014.
See the giveaway details at Goodreads.
Enter to win

Your Friend is Grieving. What Should You Say? How Do You Comfort Them?

So many of us are grieving the death of someone close to us.

Grief comes in waves, receding, then roaring back to engulf us and batter us till we feel the tide might take us out and we will never return. It's not wrong to grieve. When recounting the scene of Jesus approaching the burial site of his good friend Lazarus, John tells us simply, "Jesus wept" (11:35). Jesus wept. It's the shortest verse in the Bible and it needs no explanation. I'm thinking today of my family and the family of John Wilbanks. I'm thinking of Rodney Wilbanks and his sister and brothers. I'm thinking of my daughter, Brooke Haworth, for whom the loss has hit hard. My mom, whose grief is a weight pressing down on her.

I am thinking of my close friend, Sima Taylor, her wonderful brother, Mohammad Mojdehi, whom she was so close to. I'm thinking of her daughter and her husband, Peter.

I am thinking of my own brother who died too early, and whose death brings daily grief to me.

I am thinking of Shannon Hitchcock and all the friends of Cynthia Chapman Willis, who recently succumbed to lung cancer.

God knows your grief and he cares about you.

This is what the LORD, the God of your father David, says: I have heard your prayer and seen your tears; I will heal you (2 Kings 20:5).

You have kept record of my days of wandering. You have stored my tears in your bottle and counted each of them (David, writing in anguish. Psalm 56:8, Contemporary English Version).

And God will wipe away every tear from their eyes; there shall be no more death, nor sorrow, nor crying. There shall be no more pain (Revelation 21:4).

Some of our friends who didn't know the one we grieve don't know how to handle the new, sorrowful version of us. If you are one of our friends, here is what you should say: "I'm sorry." or "I'm so very sorry." or "I'm sorry and I am thinking and praying for you." You can even say, "I don't know what to say."

Send a card to your friend's home. Write some version of the words above. Send flowers to the funeral home, if you are moved to do so. If not, that's okay, but the very least you can do is send a card. Your friend is in a very hard place right now, and though a card seems an impossibly frail comfort, it actually lends a great deal of comfort.

If you live near your friend, bring a meal or two over. Make cookies or banana bread or muffins--breakfast and easy snack items are generally overlooked but would be welcomed by the family.

If you can alleviate your friend of certain chores, do so. Can you pick up the kids? Take them to practice? Mow the lawn? Babysit while your friend conducts death errands?

Kids are in pain, too. Offer comfort to them as well.

Hug your friend.

If you have sweet or funny anecdotes about the person they're grieving, share those stories. They mean so much. Hand write the story even if you've told them, and send it to them in the mail. They will keep it forever.

Let your friend talk about that person when they need to. If they suddenly need a topic change, allow it. Don't be hurt. Grief works in swells; your friend needs to talk but also to be free to escape the swell. Let them.

Acknowledging your friend's pain tells them that you care about them; their pain is valid; you care that they are in pain; the person they are grieving for was valuable. I encourage you to not be afraid of your friend who is hurting. If you don't know what to say or do, I hope you find the words above helpful. Your friend is in an extremely vulnerable place right now. Rise above your discomfort and help them; however, a few things can actually hurt your friend, so be wise, choose your words and actions carefully:

Do not avoid your friend. Their sorrow makes you uncomfortable; your avoidance makes them feel that you do not care about them; you don't think their grief is important; you don't recognize the value of the person they grieve.

Do not offer platitudes. "It was God's timing," "You can still talk to him; he's watching you from heaven!" "He's in a better place now." These are throwaway lines. They have no power and they do not help.

Do not interrogate your friend on the details of the death. If your friend doesn't mention the cause of death, you don't need that information. When or if your friend wants to share that with you they will.

Do not mention and then launch into your own grief story. Your friend is suffering NOW. Be selfless and pay attention to their grief. This is not the time for you to claim your crown of grief. This is your friend's time. Let them have it.

 I hope anyone grieving has found some words of comfort in this post. And if you are a friend of someone grieving, I really do hope you've found this post helpful. Many people don't know what to do when their friend suffers a loss; the best thing you can do is to be there in simple, quiet ways.

T'Kaiyah's Video Review of The Summer of Moonlight Secrets

T'Kaiyah, I discovered your video recently and loved it so much, I had to share it!

The Deceit of Weather

The Deceit of Weather

O weather, you weather, thou fair weather friend--
your promise of sunshine I will never again
believe
I'm aggrieved
You betray me so.
'Twas outside sixty
and felt like snow.

Was a trick when once your ribbons unfurled
Ribbons of light and warmth that twirled
Enraptured me and made me whole
Today is gray and all are cold.

O weather, you weather, thou friend foul and fair
entrelacé your ribbons to braid in my hair.
Dash away gray and cold and the rain
Restoreth my heart and my soul once again.

The State of Sunshine

The State of Sunshine

To my friends up north
there's something you should know;
I'm sweating in the heat
while you start the snow blow.

Inside, outside, fun in the sun
but you wear your mittens
'cause it's twenty-one
below
I crow
My weather has bling.
Even when it rains,
there's a rainbow ring.

I know you've got it bad,
the wind so shrill.
I'm in O-town
and I am just chill.

So pack up your bags
and drive through the night.
Last one to leave,
turn out the light.

'Tis Eighty-Four Degrees, My Ladies

'Tis Eighty-Four Degrees

The golden yoke of our sun breaks aloud,
cleaving through wooly heads of thunder clouds.

Birds trill songs of gray winter, now gone,
our week of wintertide--degrees, fifty, or fifty-one.

Away with our mittens and cloaks, no more freeze;
still in our closets hang our tanks and capris.

Hear now my ladies, the heat--how it begs
We must to our razors, and shaveth our legs.

Blue Springs, Florida

I snapped this photo from a boardwalk overlooking the springhead at Blue Springs. More than a million gallons of water a day rush from the deep, creating this oasis--a Garden of Eden. Home to manatees during the winter, the year-round seventy-three degree water sometimes is host to upwards of two hundred manatee. Just don't call them sea cows. They hate that.


For my Sima, My Cherished Friend (Sima Taylor, March 29, 1968 - January 7, 2014)

For my Sima, my cherished friend whom we will remember today, 

Sima, I counted you a sister, a friend, and a Christian--now I count you a saint. Whether we sleep in Christ to rise with Him later or whether we are immediately with Him--I know you are in the palm of God's hand.

You are one of most gracious persons I have ever known. I know you had many, many friends, but you made me feel special. Whenever we were together, I felt you there in the moment with me. Never judged; always loved--I treasure our friendship and guard it. And my family will never forget the comfort you offered us when my brother died.

You cared about people, and they felt it. You offered warmth and hospitality. Everyone who knows you knows your kindness, and you are the woman spoken of in Proverbs 31.

I loved our conversations, and how they'd cover things from the nature of sin, to our kids, to what was happening in the world (or at the movies!). It's easy to talk to you and hard to keep track of time. I remember one lunch we had, and how I didn't really notice that the crowd in the restaurant had changed over several times and the waiter kept filling my coffee long after our food was gone. We suddenly realized it had been more than three hours and we were almost late picking up our kids!

You are beautiful, inside and out. Your eyes are like onyx. You have a pretty little laugh. You are a good friend and a safe place, and I miss you, Sima.

Sima (right) and her mom

In Which I Meet Sinbad, One of My Comedy Heroes!

Last night, I got to meet one of my comedy heroes, Sinbad!

He called me out during his bit on helping ladies with their problems after I shouted, "I cook supper. They don't eat, but later they fill up on ice cream!"

Man, is he quick! Asked me questions, flipped my answers into jokes, and solved my problem: "Don't cook for a week; if they don't notice, everybody have ice cream!"

My favorite new bit in his ninety minute set was how the butt holds it together for the rest of the body. "Your back goes out, you start falling, thinking about what bones in your body are about to break now and then the butt says, 'Hey! I got this!

"You never heard of anyone needing a butt replacement.'"

And there was so much more! He teased late comers, bantered with a very drunk audience member, and gave "advice" to different teens in the audience.

Three times I've seen Sinbad live. This was the first time I got to meet him. What an excellent night!

Alex Gets an A on Violet Raines Book Report!

I love my readers! From Shawntel:

My daughter, Alex, has just finished your book Violet Raines Almost Got Struck by Lightning. She is ten years old, eleven next month, and new to middle school. The book has helped her cope with changing schools and making new friends by understanding the motivations of the characters in your story. I want to thank you for writing a book that has made her want to read. Alex was able to identify with Violet so well, that she is struggling to find flaws in that character - it's very humorous. We have bought her dozens of chapter books in the past, but this is the first time that she has been excited to read and finish a book, on her own. I just wanted to take a moment to tell you what your writing has meant to my child. We are eager to find more of your work.

Shawntel later sent me a note saying Alex received 100% on her book report. YAY, Alex!

My Darkness Calls

MY DARKNESS CALLS

Barking dog
Woke at four

Tried to sleep,
There was no more

To the kitchen I did sneak
Orange muffins I did make

Excitement of smell, so orangey, so good
Limit to one--okay, two--I should

Yet sleep dost call, I hear it nigh
Get ready for school, goodbye, goodbye

My darkness calls
and in it, dreams

They'll wait for me,
or so it seems.

'TWAS THE NIGHT BEFORE SCHOOL



'TWAS THE NIGHT BEFORE SCHOOL

’Twas the night before school and all through the house,
Not a child was Minecrafting or using a mouse.
The cell phones were plugged into chargers with care,
In hopes that new updates soon would appear.

The little ones tossed and they turned in their beds,
While visions of textbooks rattled their heads.
And Daddy with his iPad and I with my cell,
Caused the room to illume in a cool fluorescent spell.

When down through the hall, there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from my bed to check on the matter.
Away to the staircase I flew like a light,
Feet skipping some stairs and down the first flight.

The glow from a sitcom beamed from the set,
Lending mass and shape to a group who now fret.
When, what did I see—I’m a tired mom grouch,
But my dog and my children, draped on the couch.

With agility of youth, so lively and quick,
They dispersed like birds, not one could I nick.
More rapid than cheetahs, not one of them lame,
I clapped and I shouted and called them by name.

“Now, Brooke! Now, Matt! Now Zach, and you, Casey!
Come on! Upstairs! Right now! Make it hasty!
To the top of the stairs! Hop in your beds!
Or I’ll give you a punishment each of you dreads!

As dry leaves crumple when stomped by a foot,
Crushed into pieces and all is kaput,
So my children were sorry, sorry to be caught.
Sorry that school was, and summer was not.

And then, in a twinkling, I heard high heel clicks,
The clipping and clopping of Old Mrs. Glicks,
My fifth grade teacher, a woman quite stern,
No extra credit, all points you must earn.

She was dressed all in black, from permed hair to gnarled toe,
Even her girdle made the unsightly not show.
A bundle of papers she crooked in her arm,
Red marks and Xs, I saw my name in alarm.

Her eyes how they pierced! Her lines were so deep!
Her cheeks were like stone; her nose was a beak!
Her tight wrinkled lips were pursed in reproof,
But the whisker on her chin stood tall and aloof.

The cap of a pen she held tight in her teeth,
Ready to grade and make children weep.
She had a thin face and veined, ropey hands,
That looked like two claws, getting ready to land.

She was skinny and knotty, a right spiteful marm,
And I shuddered when I saw her and said, “No, no—oh darn!”
A slit of her eye and a twist of her head,
Jolted my heart and turned me to lead.

She spoke not a word but went straight to her work,
Marking up papers and going berserk,
And sliding her pen on top of her ear,
And giving a nod, she then disappeared!

My body deflated, to my kids I did go,
To give them a cuddle, and tell them I know:
School can be scary and some teachers mean,
But when you come home, I’ll give you ice cream!

From Grace regarding Violet Raines

I found a wonderful note from a reader today:

My name is Gracie, and I'm 9. I just read your book Violet Raines
Almost Got Struck By Lightning and I loved it. I love your way with
words! It seemed so real and I was sad when I finished it. I think you
should make a sequel to it or make another book starring Violet. I
can't stop thinking about the book it was so good. When I grow up, I
want to be an author, too, so please tell me how you write so well.
Please write me back, you're an awesome author!!!

Thank you, Gracie! My reply has been sent!

iPod Found Poetry: "Starting at A"

"Starting at A"

 


 
 

An Ode to Lauren Fox for her book Friends Like Us

An Ode to Lauren Fox for her Book Friends Like Us

A pox! A pox!
A pox on Lauren Fox!

I read your book
I read all night
It felt so good
It felt so right.

But then the morning sun
did rise
I could barely ope
my eyes.

So a pox on you
is what I offer,
Lauren Fox
my new favorite author.