The “Halloween Fun – Get Your Spook On” Weekend Blog Tour – @WendyJayneScott #RRBC #RWISA

Bette Stevens works incredibly hard to promote indie authors. She does GREAT work too on trying to help save the Monarch butterfly.

Bette A. Stevens, Maine Author

Welcome to the “HALLOWEEN FUN – GET YOUR SPOOK ON” Weekend Blog Tour!

13 Spooky Writing Prompts to ignite your imagination.
Bats and cats, owls and howls, trick-or-treat, hosts and ghosts.
Kids, have fun this Halloween by creating spooky stories to scare your family and friends.

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Giveaways
(3) Amazon eBook copies of any of the Aspiring Author Series (Winner’s choice)

Leave a comment below and/or along any stop along the tour for your chance to win!

Halloween—Witch’s Familiar

In European folklore and folk-belief of the Medieval and Early Modern periods, familiar spirits (sometimes referred to simply as “familiars” or “animal guides”) were believed to be supernatural entities that would assist witches and cunning folk in their practice of magic. According to the records of the time, they would appear in numerous guises, often as an animal.

The main purpose of familiars is to serve the witch or young…

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WHEN BILLIONAIRES THINK THEY ARE OVERPAID, MAYBE THEY ARE! – REBLOG

If SHE thinks they don’t need the extra money, possibly they don’t? Just a thought.

#writephoto regulars ~ Meet Marilyn Armstrong – SUE VINCENT’S DAILY ECHO (Reblog)

I always feel a bit odd writing about myself (again) since basically, that what I do every day. Thank you, Sue. You are one of the good ones who brings joy to everyone who knows you, personally or virtually!


#writephoto regulars ~ Meet Marilyn Armstrong

I asked the writephoto challenge regulars if they would like to come over and introduce themselves. Today we meet Marilyn Armstrong, who blogs at Serendipity.

Without those of you who write and read the pieces inspired by the weekly photos, the writephoto prompt would not exist. So, if you follow or take part in the weekly challenge, why come over and introduce yourself too?

Being a regular does not mean taking part every week… so why not drop me a line?


I know where I began and I know where I am, but how did I get here?

I think a lot has to do with — you guessed it — my mother. Born in 1910, she lived through World War I and II, then Korea and Vietnam and anything other war until she died in November 1982. She was politically active from a young age. She remembered how the government poured poison over excess food during the depression so starving people couldn’t eat it.

I thought she was making it up, but it turned out to be true. She was an avowed atheist, though I think in reality, she was angry with God. She felt that if there was one, he had failed us.

She was a bona fide liberal. She hated racism and wasn’t thrilled with any government. She believed all politicians were corrupt, regardless of party. She hated religious dogma and neglected to tell me I was Jewish until I was in second grade. The subject came up in school. One day, I came home and asked my mother: ” What’s a Jew?”

She looked at my father and spoke the immortal words: “We have to do something about this.”

When the Vietnam War (which wasn’t a war, but a “police action”) was in progress, I was part of the college anti-war group. I pointed out to my mother that all that money we used for the war could be used to fix problems at home.

She looked at me and said: “There is always money for war, but there will never be money for domestic problems.”

I thought she was just being cynical.

I had a lot to learn.

My mother was so against doing things the usual way, I didn’t do things the usual way. The only thing I wanted to do was write, so I became a music major. I never took a writing course. I was sure it would ruin my style. Like, at 17, I really had a style?

Mom

I thought she was making it up, but it turned out to be true. She was an avowed atheist, though I think in reality, she was angry with God. She felt that if there was one, he had failed us.

She was a bona fide liberal. She hated racism and wasn’t thrilled with any government. She believed all politicians were corrupt, regardless of party. She hated religious dogma and neglected to tell me I was Jewish until I was in second grade. The subject came up in school. One day, I came home and asked my mother: ” What’s a Jew?”

She looked at my father and spoke the immortal words: “We have to do something about this.”

When the Vietnam War (which wasn’t a war, but a “police action”) was in progress, I was part of the college anti-war group. I pointed out to my mother that all that money we used for the war could be used to fix problems at home.

She looked at me and said: “There is always money for war, but there will never be money for domestic problems.”

I thought she was just being cynical.

I had a lot to learn.

My mother was so against doing things the usual way, I didn’t do things the usual way either. The only thing I wanted to do was write, so I became a music major. I never took a writing course. I was sure it would ruin my style. Like, at 17, I really had a style?

Marilyn and the kiddo

I did write for a living, but I wasn’t a lonely novelist in a house on a cliff. Instead, I wrote advertising, promotional material, book flaps, and news. The “who, what, when, where, and how” of news writing turned out to be a good set up for any subject. After that, 25 years of technical documents taught me to say it simply and skip the adjectives.

I feel like a bit of a sham since unlike most of the other people who have written for Sue, I only wrote one book. Hardly anyone bought it, though someone offered to make it into a movie — except he couldn’t find a backer. I never really expected it to happen, but it was cool that he offered.

For me, blogging is the most natural way to write. I’ve spent a lifetime writing professionally with a boss looking over my shoulder. News and features. Always, there was specific material that needed to be conveyed, a character count, and a boss.

Marilyn in the teepee

The only things I ever wrote for fun were personal letters. I used to write great letters home when I lived overseas. In fact, I’m pretty sure most of my romance with Garry took place via letter.

He wrote. I wrote. He wrote. I wrote. For almost 10 years, we never stopped writing. Once I came back to the U.S., neither of us wrote another letter.

But I remember thinking “I wish there was something I could do which was just like writing letters.” Along came blogging.

Voila!

Blogging is exactly like writing letters to everyone at the same time. It’s what I always wanted to do and I don’t have a boss at my back. The only thing I miss is having an editor to fix typos and warn me to rewrite awkward language. And a paycheck.


About the Author

Marilyn as writer (matching shirt)

Marilyn Armstrong is a writer, blogger, and photographer. She started writing as soon as she could form letters and has never heard a single good reason why she should stop.

Marilyn and her husband Garry — and various intrepid canines live in a setting of rare natural beauty and gigantic rocks in rural Massachusetts.

Marilyn blogs at Serendipity – Seeking Intelligent Life On Earth  where she offers “memories via anecdotes, observations, occasional fiction, and photographs.”


Find and follow Marilyn

Serendipity blog     Twitter    Facebook

Amazon     Goodreads     Google+


The Twelve Foot Teepee

Fighting the of demons of an abusive childhood and having given up on traditional paths to personal salvation, Maggie decides to find her own path … by building a teepee in her backyard. It’s a peculiar route, but her goal is simple: offload the cargo of her past and move into a future, sans luggage. Armed with a draw knife and a sense of humor, she peels poles and paints canvas until winter passes and she is free.


Sue Vincent’s Daily Echo

Don’t Make Brett Kavanaugh The Poster Boy For Ignominious Defeat

To keep kicking the Kavanaugh can down the road is just what President Donald Trump’s emerging November election game plan has in mind.

It is doubtful he had a plan before Kavanaugh was nominated. For the first time in Trump’s administration, he seemed flummoxed when brave women came forward to tell their stories. He actually kept his abrasive mouth shut until Kavanaugh’s appointment was assured. You better believe that somebody told him to chill, he really isn’t that bright.

And that’s why it is best to let the Kavanaugh matter go. The Republicans seem to have a functional plan. They know nothing reinforces defeat like crying over spilled milk, especially when it’s a knee-jerk reaction to never having a chance to win in the first place. Kavanaugh’s appointment does just that.

Trump doesn’t know much, but he knows street fighting and the Democrats don’t. The nomination process was like watching a one-legged Democrat at a Republican-sponsored ass kicking contest. Perhaps the Democratic National Committee will pass out some Knife Fighting For Dummies handbooks in time to parry a few thrusts before Election Day.

The real issue fouling the air isn’t whether Sen. Chuck Grassley and the Republican majority in the Senate Judiciary Committee bent the rules so they could purloin the procedure. That is a given. If the Democrats had been in control it would have gone down the same way except a liberal candidate would have been sitting on the hot seat. It is the essence of phony to pretend otherwise. Infighting is what politics is, and wielding the knife better than your opponent is the goal. Julius Ceaser had a good perspective on the process.

What is different about this particular Supreme Court nominee and the nomination process that gave him life is timing. There are 26 days left until the midterm elections as of this writing. The Republicans smacked the Democrats so hard in the face with a poopie pie that their grandbabies will probably be born bruised.

It is time to put a cold steak on the swelling and drive on. Otherwise, everything Kavanaugh does until Election Day will stay in front of the voters. It is a brilliant, insidious Red State plan that already appears to be working. Whining about the Republican victory can and probably will slow down the Blue Wave. For that reason alone, the Kavanaugh debacle needs to be minimized, not maximized. Forgotten would be even better.

The Senate debacle brings to mind Jerry Springer’s Columbus Day tribute to a pathetic loser who lost his love and his pride on national TV. It was a poignant, afternoon television mock fest of what happens when intellect collides with passion during public discourse about family values. Change the players and it could have been a satirical look at Kavanaugh’s Senate Judiciary Committee hearing. It’s hard to believe it has already been a week since the same thing happened in Congress.

In that show, Grassley played the king of scream-time TV himself, demeaning the vulnerable and impugning the innocent with the kind of hard-nosed obstinacy Iowa farmers are famous for. When Grassley isn’t with the rest of the Republican boys humping the American people for the last of their loose change, he spends a lot of time on his 750-acre farm watching his cows do the same thing.

Grassley, 85, is the senior United States senator from Iowa, a seat he was elected to in 1980. American farmers like him. Judge Brett Kavanaugh adores him. Trump is probably in awe of him. Democrats, women, liberals, independents, libertarians, and people who just don’t like arbitrary people don’t care for him at all.

Grassley did a fine job emulating the famous Springer style during the nominating process, playing the face of harsh Republican reason. His main job — other than refusing every Democratic demand for fairness — was egging on his colleagues so the biased crowd would moan and hiss appropriately. He played them like a banjo. Last Tuesday’s hearing was so special. It sounded like a max volume orgy compilation on Pornhub, and Grassley deserves at least an enema as best supporting actor.

The Democrats, unfortunately, acted more like William, the witless moron who starred on Monday’s episode of Jerry Springer.  He was dull as a newt, inarticulate, and lost, the way the Democrats appeared during the hearing.

Kavanaugh showed up smarter, more verbose, better educated, and better prepared than the collection of Democratic carnival barkers who seemed better prepared for promoting the Yak Woman at a VFW carnival. Democrats need to take a lesson in dirty fighting.

On Springer, William was duped by his paramour because he is a moron. In Washington, the country was duped by Kavanaugh because he is a brilliant lawyer who came into the arena ready for a war.

Instead of fighting the good fight, the Democrats sat transfixed into impotence. Nothing they did should be glorified. The Democrats could never have won, but they didn’t have to lose so badly.

The bottom line is that Republicans won and Democrats lost. It serves nothing to allow Brett Kavanaugh to be the poster boy for ignominious defeat. The why is for the historians to study after the final battle.  Now is time to build enough Democratic momentum to ensure the Blue Wave rolls over the country on Election Day.

via Don’t Make Brett Kavanaugh The Poster Boy For Ignominious Defeat

There’s a new demographic, and you better pick a side – REBLOG – SHINBONE STAR

What more is there to say? I wish it weren’t like this, but this really IS where we’ve gone … and I hope I live long enough to see us recover our senses.

THE SHINBONE STAR

Here in the United States of America, we’d grown accustomed to surveys and seeing our beliefs broken down demographically. We would eagerly pore over the results, which usually compared women vs. men; blacks vs. whites; college education vs. none; city vs. rural; and Catholic vs. Protestant.

Well, I’m here to tell you, that none of that matters anymore. Here’s what it comes down to in our modern Disunited States of America:

  • Support for the Mocking of Sexual Assault Victims vs. Those Opposed

Of course for those who have been paying attention, the president’s attack this week on Christine Blasey Ford isn’t our first ride in Donald Trump’s Demolition Derby, it’s just the latest in a series of crashes that have defined our nation’s free fall into hell.

Consider that since Trump’s arrival on the political landscape, you, your friends, your neighbors and your relatives can be divvied up like this:

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The Trump Dump: Trump’s Movie Remakes

As movie mavens, this one simply had to be reblogged. I’m still singing “Somewhere over the beltway” as the rain falls on Massachusetts.

THE SHINBONE STAR

— Illustration by Skye Hunter/The Shinbone Star

I shouldn’t be giving propaganda suggestions to a master manipulator, but I do have one for Donald Trump: Remake Hollywood movies to tell your story.

In Trump’s alternative universe — where lies are facts, allies are enemies, dictators are friends — so much is about show. And what better show for winning the minds of the masses than Hollywood movies? Alas, from the Trump perspective, the movie industry is in the hands of Socialists.

But given his limitless wealth, ego and lack of taste, I think he could still find financing for some of these remakes, while he awaits the arrival of the next Leni Reifenstahl. So try these on for size, POTUS:

“Gone With the Wind”  A handsome devil-may-care carpetbagger falls for a beautiful and haughty woman. She finally succumbs to his seduction (and pre-nup). The movie bypasses the familiar “Frankly, my…

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SoCS — ROUND AND ROUND, PERRY COMO – REBLOG – FANDANGO

Can two minds thing MORE alike? I remember this song because I had it on a 45 RPM. Remember then? I had a little record player and a pile of records in every color of the spectrum. I always like Perry Como, though I never understood how come he could sing with his teeth apparently clenched.

FOWC with Fandango — Highway
(ROUND & ROUND)


 

This, That, and The Other

When I saw Linda G. Hill’s Stream of Consciousness Saturday prompt, which is to “use the word ‘round’ as a word by itself or find a word that contains it,” the first thing that came to mind was “a round tuit,” as in “I’ll get around to it.” But then I realized that I already wrote a post about round tuits. In fact, that post, which you can read here, was written for one of Linda’s One-Liner Wednesday prompts. So there goes that idea.

The next thing that came to mind was the saying, “What goes around comes around.” But guess what? I wrote this post for a Mindlovemisery’s Menagerie Tale Weaver prompt. Sheesh! Another idea down the drain.

So now what? Think, Fandango. Oh wait, I got it! And I bet only those of you out there who are as old as I am will relate to my SoCS…

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