Monday, November 30, 2015

THE KID ( A Family's Story)

The Funeral   
     It was a clear sunny day. The type of day you knew everything was right with the world.  Anthony married Pauline and saw his two children brought into in the world on a day just like it. So yes, with all he had done, and all he had seen and experienced; it only seemed right that it would also be a good day die.
     When the local newspaper ran the obituary his wife received a notarized letter from the State Department requesting she postpone the funeral.  Not understanding the request, but seeing how the letter came from the State Pauline obliged and held off the arrangements. Only Ralph, her son understood what was happening, and Ralph decided it was too early to say anything so he bit his tongue; intent to see how things played out first. Something's were better left unsaid, at least for now.  
     When the local paper ran a list of  Dignitaries who where scheduled to attend the funeral the whole family was more then surprised. What could Anthony have done in his life to attract people of this nature? Why was the president of China,  a New York Senator, one of the Cardinals from the Vatican and entrepreneur Richard Logan publicly announcing they were attending the funeral when none of them address the family personally? Pauline couldn’t decide if she was honored or insulted although she was leaning towards insulted. The obituary stated only that he died at 82 years old, born in New York City and ran a small construction company. He left behind his wife Pauline of 57 years and twins, a son Ralph and a daughter Dr. Bella Conte and four grand children. There was nothing about his military service, but that was because as far as Pauline knew Anthony had never served in the military, and so she never added it in when she wrote the obituary.
     Throughout the week Pauline received phone calls from various high ranking officials stating they were glad to hear Anthony had indeed survived the war and had lived a full life; for they were under the impression he had died years ago in a Korean prison camp. Confused, Pauline insisted they must have the wrong man. Her husband was never in a Korean prison camp, he never even went to war. He had asthma and so he failed the physical at the time of the draft. Still every one of the callers insisted they had the right Anthony and deep down Pauline knew they did because they knew things about him they could not know. Which only made Pauline wondered about her husband. What other secretes did he hide and why did he feel he couldn’t tell her? Call after call was the same. Men and women insisting they knew Anthony during the war; thrilled he had somehow made it home and how they would be honored to come pay their respects to such a man and his family. 
(End of Section) By Ralph Di Filippo

I hope you enjoyed this first section of the first draft of my Uncle's Book. This is only the start of the first chapter. As well as working on my own manuscripts I am in the process of helping him edit his work. Please let us know what you think in the comments section. Thanks and Happy Monday- Cynthia

Monday, November 23, 2015

Beaver's Home

Beaver’s Home

Day by day
night by night
the water flowed out of sight

Then one day a beaver came
With his family he took his claim

As a team they chopped down trees
And made some logs for their needs

With each log they pulled and pushed
They made their home
They made it lush

They made it safe
They made it sound
They made it strong
and that’s what counts.


Monday, November 16, 2015

Home Once Sweet

  The house sat in the middle of the street. The tall maple in the front yard had already changed from its deep lush green to beautiful shades of yellow, rust and orange. The wide floor boards of the front porch were warped and in needed repair. Once painted a soft blue, they were now worn and gray. The wide planks of the houses fa├žade once painted off white was now dingy and in need of a fresh coat of paint. The front door, painted a dull red with a large window collected the sun light on a sunny day. Now it sits dusty and dirty catching no light at all.

          The house had served the family well. The family is gone though and the house stands alone. The rooms are bare. The birthday parties gathered in here are mere memories, and one could almost hear the walls cry as the foundation settles in the ground. No one is here, and the house is cold, empty, void of life.

     If walls could talk, the stories this house could tell; the joy of childhood, the pains of teenagers; cries of broken toys and tears from broken hearts. All of this lived within these walls, but now only the memories remain. The house seems to sigh as the wind whips through her cracks around the windows. Winter is coming, and the house longs for its’ owners. The warmth of an active fireplace where logs once warmed the room and people once cuddled around it is replaced by a cold empty fireplace, void of heat or embers.

          In the kitchen the cupboards are bare. All that can be heard is the slam of the back screen door broken off its hinge. Upstairs the rooms are empty and silent. The fuss and arguments over the bathroom quieted. The phone has stopped ringing, and the echo of conversations resound all over the house.

     The laughter has gone. The owners have moved on, leaving the house to sit and morn the loss of a home.

Monday, November 9, 2015

Critique Partners

Critique Partners. There was a time I had no idea what a critique partner was. Now I know all too well, and I know just how important they are. What amazes me is how hard a good one is to find. I have been through my share of partners. Some have lasted a few years some for only a few months.

I know what you are wondering why? What is going on that I have gone through so many partners? Well, to put it simply, life. Some partners have decide not to write anymore, others needed a break, or I needed a break. Life at times gets in the way, especially for those just starting out. We are still trying to balance it all, mom, wife, work, kids, pets, house work, sports, family, etc. It's a lot to figure out and it's not always easy to always find that balance.

Not to mention people evolve and needs change and as these needs change so do your partners. It is a frustrating cycle and I'm sure I'm not the only one who has gone through this process. 

If you have found that special critique partner you are lucky. You see a critique partner is a lot like marriage. You need to take the good with the bad, support, respect, and always be there for each other.

How many partner have you gone through and are you still looking?

Monday, November 2, 2015

What I've learned about Poems

Children's poems has always been an interest of mine. I can't say I've had an interest in them as far back as high school, college maybe, but I'd say more recently to be honest. I think it started to really take root when I started having children of my own.

I always wanted my boys to have a strong love for reading, and having a son who isn't fond of reading, I though it would be fun to spice things up with poems. There are so many wonderful poems out there for kids. Let's face it Shel Silverstein is just the icing on the cake.

In my endeavor to learn as much as I can about poems and writing picture books in verse I stumbled on some really great authors and bloggers and thought I'd share some of their links with you. is a great site is another one
and then there is Susanna Leonard Hall who's link you can always find on my side board.
There are also so many more, and  don't worry in the next few weeks I plan on covering some other great sites.

let me know if there are sites that you frequent. I'd love to add them to the list.-