TOO Much Cheese!

Hanzel was a jolly Dutchman with a white shirt and a vest who liked to make cheese almost better than anything else in the world. He liked it so much that Hanzel was positive that his cheese was by far the best in the whole county of Leyden. Problem is every farmer for miles around insisted that their own was superior to any other made in all of Holland and that lead to quite a hullabaloo on market day. There were rows and rows of stalls in the cheese section of the market, and the competition was fierce. Many if not all of them had banners in varying colours advertising their wares. The bolder ones went even farther and hired drummers which added to the din. Even the shyest had to resort to calling out the virtues of their special product.

And what was the result? No one got very much business. Friends, I feel very much like that bewildered Dutchman. Since the market has been opened wide to thousands of authors through the advent of self-publishing we are being drowned in a cascade of literature just at the time when technology is causing the interest in paper books to wan. Tell me, what should I do? If you have any advise, anything at all, please let me know. www.marilynshistoricalnovels.com

I Hit Send

The Glass Castle has been a long time in coming, yeah, I'm sure it felt a lot longer to me than any of your readers. It's supposed to be available as an ebook immediately and on Amazon in a few days.Could you let me know what your think of the images? It's supposed to imitate an old-fashioned manuscript sort of because of the topic but do the pictures add or subtract from the overall impression?
Feedback is always welcome, either here, on Goodreads or as a review on Amazon. Thanks and have a good day. http://www.amazon.com/dp/1511783966

 http://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/1511783966
 http://www.amazon.de/dp/1511783966
 http://www.amazon.es/dp/1511783966
 http://www.amazon.fr/dp/1511783966
 http://www.amazon.it/dp/1511783966

https://www.createspace.com/4837922

Fleeing Safety

It seems to be taking me forever to get my tiny new book, The Glass Castle  ready for publication. This is the  part I've been editing today. As usual, I promise: "Soon, soon!" and someday that will change to: "It's here, it's arrived! You can come and get your own copy now."

P.S. It's been so much fun having guests at our bed and breakfast and otherwise, that writing got put on the back burner (Not a good place for my laptop, eh) but I'm back again --for the moment.

Okay, here goes!

Fleeing Safety

 Not everyone in that lovely glass fortress was so enthused to be there. On a lower floor, in a back corner of the basement to be exact dwelt two naysayers who rarely mingled with the others. That their section of the glass wall had gotten smudged goes almost without saying. After all, they didn’t want to be there, so why bother polishing windows?

            Gilbert and Arthur were involved in something that looked similar to a game of Chess. They laid out their game pieces to plan their strategy.

“We will be cut off from friends and family if we leave,” Arthur pointed out, moving one of his men.

Gilbert shook his head. “They’ll get over it. They’ll be disappointed, of course, but we’ll keep in touch”—

 Arthur snorted, “If we get around to it.”

For a few minutes, all that could be heard was the shuffling of game pieces and the occasional squeak of a chair.

 “They say that the Outside World is flat and there is a tremendous drop off at the edge.”

Gilbert grimaced. “And that we will fall and fall and never stop falling even while being engulfed by flames.” 

                        “Sounds scary.”

`”Sure it does, but we’ll stay well away from the drop off point—if there is one.”

 “Granddaddy says one can be sucked in quite unexpectedly just about anywhere.”

 “How does he know?” 

  “He was there: escaped by the skin of his teeth as it were when a friend was sucked in.”

                   “We’re sitting here scaring each other. That desert looks so beautiful with the setting sun and there’s hardly any chance of sinkholes there.  We are much too confined in here—and bored: let’s just go. We can always come back.”

 Gilbert swept all the game pieces into a cloth bag and tossed it into a drawer.

   “OK, let’s go.” They let themselves into the hallway and looked both ways before continuing.

 “Where are you going?” a sister paused while scurrying down the hall with a tray for an invalid. “It’s almost suppertime.”

 “We’ll be back,” Gilbert answered evasively.

She leveled a thoughtful look at them but didn’t try to block their way. 

             “Let’s try to go out by the concealed trapdoor. That way we won’t be noticed by so many.”

             “Help,” Arthur yelped, “I didn’t know the descent was so steep!” They looked over the embankment, almost chickening out.

The castle was built on top of a cliff with slick embankments on all sides. “I didn’t mean to descend so rapidly,” Arthur muttered, trying to keep his balance while slowing his pace.

                       

                                   Windows flew open here and there.

                                  

                                  “It’s Arthur: looks like he’s in trouble!”

                       “And Gilbert: throw out the lifeline!”

“No, no, that’s okay,” Gilbert muttered, grabbing on to a thick, twisted root that reminded him ominously of a huge snake. “We’ll make it.”

Prayers ascended up to the King while they picked their way carefully down the steep embankment but they didn’t listen.

“It’ll be better after we get on to the level ground,” Arthur said. He took the liberty to glance back. My, the castle had never looked so beautiful…so strong…and secure…before.

Now that they have faded from our view we will check back at the castle.

Fleeing Safety

It seems to be taking me forever to get my tiny new book, The Glass Castle  ready for publication. This is the  part I've been editing today. As usual, I promise: "Soon, soon!" and someday that will change to: "It's here, it's arrived! You can come and get your own copy now."

P.S. It's been so much fun having guests at our bed and breakfast and otherwise, that writing got put on the back burner (Not a good place for my laptop, eh) but I'm back again --for the moment.

Okay, here goes!

Fleeing Safety

 Not everyone in that lovely glass fortress was so enthused to be there. On a lower floor, in a back corner of the basement to be exact dwelt two naysayers who rarely mingled with the others. That their section of the glass wall had gotten smudged goes almost without saying. After all, they didn’t want to be there, so why bother polishing windows?

            Gilbert and Arthur were involved in something that looked similar to a game of Chess. They laid out their game pieces to plan their strategy.

“We will be cut off from friends and family if we leave,” Arthur pointed out, moving one of his men.

Gilbert shook his head. “They’ll get over it. They’ll be disappointed, of course, but we’ll keep in touch”—

 Arthur snorted, “If we get around to it.”

For a few minutes, all that could be heard was the shuffling of game pieces and the occasional squeak of a chair.

 “They say that the Outside World is flat and there is a tremendous drop off at the edge.”

Gilbert grimaced. “And that we will fall and fall and never stop falling even while being engulfed by flames.” 

                        “Sounds scary.”

`”Sure it does, but we’ll stay well away from the drop off point—if there is one.”

 “Granddaddy says one can be sucked in quite unexpectedly just about anywhere.”

 “How does he know?” 

  “He was there: escaped by the skin of his teeth as it were when a friend was sucked in.”

                   “We’re sitting here scaring each other. That desert looks so beautiful with the setting sun and there’s hardly any chance of sinkholes there.  We are much too confined in here—and bored: let’s just go. We can always come back.”

 Gilbert swept all the game pieces into a cloth bag and tossed it into a drawer.

   “OK, let’s go.” They let themselves into the hallway and looked both ways before continuing.

 “Where are you going?” a sister paused while scurrying down the hall with a tray for an invalid. “It’s almost suppertime.”

 “We’ll be back,” Gilbert answered evasively.

She leveled a thoughtful look at them but didn’t try to block their way. 

             “Let’s try to go out by the concealed trapdoor. That way we won’t be noticed by so many.”

             “Help,” Arthur yelped, “I didn’t know the descent was so steep!” They looked over the embankment, almost chickening out.

The castle was built on top of a cliff with slick embankments on all sides. “I didn’t mean to descend so rapidly,” Arthur muttered, trying to keep his balance while slowing his pace.

                       

                                   Windows flew open here and there.

                                  

                                  “It’s Arthur: looks like he’s in trouble!”

                       “And Gilbert: throw out the lifeline!”

“No, no, that’s okay,” Gilbert muttered, grabbing on to a thick, twisted root that reminded him ominously of a huge snake. “We’ll make it.”

Prayers ascended up to the King while they picked their way carefully down the steep embankment but they didn’t listen.

“It’ll be better after we get on to the level ground,” Arthur said. He took the liberty to glance back. My, the castle had never looked so beautiful…so strong…and secure…before.

Now that they have faded from our view we will check back at the castle.

The Internet? What's That?

Okay, I know the "powers that be" won't allow me to use this on the back of my book Mary's Diary of Jesus' Life, but it was fun writing it, so I'll share it would you. Enjoy!

Dear Diary

I am soo frightened. Someone got hold of my diary scrolls and wants to get them distributed.

 They are from a strange, far away place and are asking to stick them on the internet and do other queer things with them.

 Did I even spell that odd word right? I have NO clue what they are talking about.

 Oh I wish Joseph was here so I could ask his advice, or better yet, Jesus, but He floated up to Heaven in a cloud.

But…on the other hand, it was such a wonderful experience raising Jesus from a little boy and watching Him develop into a strong caring Man who brought joy, healing and peace to so many people.Maybe I should let those strangers do whatever they think is best with my scrolls I sure hope no one in our village finds out that I did something so outlandish!

Love, Mary

Mary's Diary; the Life of Jesus through His Mother's Eyes

Some of you have been so good about buying Mary's Diary, the Life of Jesus through His Mother's Eyes, even with it's blah, blah, blah cover. Did I tell you already that I'm getting it redone, and reedited, and I think those of you that haven't bought a copy will like it better than ever. Meanwhile, I will dole out a pre-Christmas preview! So here' the beginning!

By the way, I'll need to think of another title. What do you think of these ideas.

Mary'am Muses
   about her son Jesus

Mary's Journal

Mary's Memories
  of Jesus

More suggests and votes would be most welcome!

April 2^nd

10^th Nissan

             

                          

                              

I will always be grateful to my dignified, elderly Uncle Zachariah

for teaching me to read and write that long ago summer when I was

ten. There are some thoughts that are too personal; too profound to

give voice to, but they must be shared, and writing is the best way.

How can I get close to HaShem? Yet that is what I am striving for.

HaShem means The Name, and is the most respectful title I know to

call The Holy One. We hesitate to speak His Name out loud, but I pray

He will pardon me if I write it from time to time. There is something

About  Adonai , hallowed be His Name, that is dreadful, but I long to have a

more meaningful relationship with Him.

This week I have been thinking much about the sacred prophecies

concerning the Mashiach. (Messiah,) What kind of woman would Yahweh choose

as the mother for His Son? It would be such a delightful honor, and

a privilege! I wish it could be me.

Did you hear my tiny sigh? I suppose hundreds, nay, thousands of talitha, (girls), more honorable than I have longed to cherish the Holy Child as their own, but they were not chosen, so why would I be?

We are of the lowliest of the lowly. The Judeans, particularly the religious leaders, look down their long noses at us Galileans. Do they not think we are so dim-witted

about understanding the finer points of the law?

The Anointed One’s mother would be someone without the many

faults that I have! I imagine she will be someone like the virtuous

woman our noble King Solomon described many years ago. She would

diligently reach out to the poor, and needy, and in her tongue would

be the law of kindness. I have a lot to learn in that area!

I am guessing that the Mother of the Mashiach, (what elegant

sounding words!) would need to be someone of royal birth so she would

know how to groom her Son to become the future King.

 But I am of the right lineage! David is my ancestor. We have the precious documents right here in our chest to prove it. They have been passed down from generation to generation, and are among our most valuable possessions.

Yea, I must admit though, that thousands of others are of the same lineage.

Just this one last time I will confess it hurts deeply that I cannot

mother HaShem’s Son. He must be born of a virgin, and I am soon to

be married.

You will not ere in your thinking, no? I am joyfully planning to

wed my beloved Yosef, but when I do, this other dream will have to die

forever. It is most difficult to lie down. It has been a secret desire for

so long, but I will; I will lift a brave face, and cheerfully walk hand in

hand with my betrothed for all my days, and if perchance some other

aant’at ,(woman,) gets this blessing during my lifetime I will try to be

happy for her.

Perhaps it will be my own daughter!

Feeding the Littlest Folk

Hey, have you been wondering why I haven't been having more to say about my books? Well, I was pretty dissatisfied with my experience with self publishing so didn't really want them to sell under the circumstances.. Right now I am really hard at work reediting Mary's Diary, and have a terrific, new editor to go over it after I am done. Furthermore I have a new cover picture that I'm considering that is infinitely better than that dark, dull one.  Meanwhile, here's an appetizer...

Listen, I won't even pretend to have a corner on the history of Jesus as a child. This is pure imagination.

The life of Jesus through His Mother's eyes,

Dear Diary,
  H'm. It's pretty quiet around here. I wonder what the boys are up to. I finished making the soup for dinner, checked to see if baby Lydia was still asleep then wandered outdoors. James was close by. He called to me and I duly admired what he was building in the sand pile with scraps of lumber from the carpenter's shop.
"Where's Yeshua, (Jesus), "I soon asked.
"He went to yonder woods to feed the little folk, " James solemnly replied as he stuck a row of sticks in the ground.What a perfect day to be out of doors. I walked eagerly down the path to 'yonder' woods. Since no one was around I