Category Archives: biographical

Mended


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I used to come, a  loving – though transient – visitor

but now this place holds my pillow

and my dog’s bed

and the flowering seeds of my child

come to visit me instead

One day in autumn

when the leaves let go of branching flesh

where orange and gold burst forth

and verdant meadows

cushioned their fall

and rain chased them into rivers

my grandson watched

as a thousand boats of gold

swirled and twirled upon streaming creek

and disappeared under the stone arches

of a packhorse bridge

“Bye leaf! Bye, bye!”

he shouted

his cotten-clad arm waving like a puppy’s tail

The joy of being Grannie

washed over me

and I realized in waves of relief

that I don’t have to say goodbye

anymore

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Filed under biographical, Poetry, Travel

Choosing The Right Path


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Have you ever realized that you were on the wrong path, or that the one which used to inspire and fulfill you, no longer seemed relevant in your life? Were you tempted to make a big change, or did you play it safe and stay put?

A few years back I came to such a devastating realization. It wasn’t long after that, when an unexpected request came knocking on my door. A voice from deep inside me was saying if I did not honor my authentic self and risk failure, I might never have another opportunity to follow my bliss where ever it took me. “Go ahead,” it seemed to say. “Put your heart in it and just do it.”

In 2009 I took a leap of faith and changed my career path to that of a freelance writer. I began doing the work I love, using my writing skills to help people pen their memoir or turn their non-fiction material into a completed book manuscript and successfully have it published. Since I began this journey, one of my co-authored books earned the runner-up position, and two were recognized as Outstanding in their categories, enough to win Nationally Recognized Gold and Silver Book Awards. Wow! Not only have I received joyful recognition for my work, but I also helped others to achieve their literary goals and dreams. I am looking forward with gratitude and excitement as I continue on the path of the writer’s life and helping other writers for as long as I possibly can.

In the opening days of 2016 my client and co-author, Digene Farrar, surprised me with a wonderful message of her acknowledgement:

NABE – Fall 2015 – Award Announcement

Pinnacle Book Achievement
AWARD WINNERS

For the past 33 years NABE
The National Association of Book Entrepreneurs,
presents some of the finest books published by their members.
Scroll below to check out the latest Pinnacle Book Achievement Award Winners.

http://www.bookmarketingprofits.com/PinnacleAwardsFall2015.html

Not My Secret to Keep: A Memoir of Healing from Childhood Sexual Abuse

by Digene Farrar with Cynthia Hurn

Not My Secret_

Winner of the Fall 2015
NABE Gold Award for
Pinnacle Book Achievement
Genre: Memoir

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What a great way to welcome in the New Year – watching Digene do the Happy Dance!

Congratulations, Digene. You certainly earned it!

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Filed under Announcements, biographical, Editorial, Non-Fiction, Uncategorized

Resurrection


As she waited to hear back from the hospital she found herself thinking about her brother’s bedroom – magical, mysterious, and strictly off limits unless she knocked and received permission to enter. A rare treat that he gave only when she promised not to ask too many questions….

“Brucie, what’s this?” she asked, fingering a fishhook from the tin box on her brother’s workbench.

“Put it down. If that gets stuck in your thumb, I’ll have to push it all the way through and you’ll cry like a girl.”

She examined the sharp point and barb, then dropped the hook and picked up another one. “What’s it for?”

“Fly fishing.” Her brother set a small hook in the workbench clamp. Taking two scarlet feather fronds from a cardboard container he placed them against the hook and spiraled golden silk thread round and round the ends, flush to the base of the curved steel, transforming the hook into an alluring winged insect.

“Wow, that’s pretty. What do you do with it?”

“You tie it on your rod like this…” Retrieving a spool from his tackle box, Bruce threaded nylon through the fishhook loop, then tied a knot and cut the line in one deft movement. He tossed the hook into the air and flicked the line back and forth. Light from his workbench lamp glinted against the shimmering gold and scarlet.

She forgot it was merely feather and steel and sat mesmerized by the dancing insect that responded to her brother’s hand.

“When this lure strikes the water,” he said, “the trout thinks Supper! He leaps to the surface, gulps the insect, and snap!” Bruce jerked his wrist. “That’s when the fish becomes my supper,” he said with a laugh.

~ * ~

It was the jangling telephone that dragged her back to the here and now. After the call she sat in stunned silence. “He’s gone,” was all her sister could say.

She imagined the neurosurgeon tying silk stitches, closing the hole where the tumor had been. The surgeon’s thread was shimmering gold.

At the corner of her vision, something flickered past the window drawing her attention outside. There an incredibly beautiful, scarlet dragonfly danced in the morning sun.

“Hi Bruce,” she whispered. “How did you do that?”

dragonfly2

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Filed under biographical, Fiction, Flash & Micro Fiction, Non-Fiction