I have always enjoyed reading and have found that a good book is infinitely better than watching a movie any day of the week. When I was given a chance to read an advanced copy of this book and share my thoughts I was both excited and intimidated. Excited to read something before most have the chance to see it and intimidated by the prospect of giving my opinion on it. How would I compose my thoughts on something I might not like? Fortunately, I don’t have to worry about that. Beth has given us a very solid debut novel with “Order of Seven”.
Devi Bennett, along with her brother Nodin and friends Baron and Ben, take us on a whirlwind journey fraught with mystery and intrigue as they discover their past and learn about their unique gifts. They are soon joined by others with similar abilities and together they…
I’m getting ready to release my first novel, Order of Seven. Helena Hann-Basquiat is preparing to release Memoirs of a Dilettante Volume Two, and as a bonus, the Shakespearean-style play, Penelope, Countess of Arcadia. They sat down one morning to chat.
My job: Inventor of sorts. Don’t call me a god; I hate that term. I prefer Creator of Species. Yes. I like that. The task at hand? An entirely new species. Different than the rest. Better, perhaps, although it will be too humble to admit it.
I drop lavender liquid into my beaker, adding Empathetic and Compassionate to the already established shades of Independent orange. Enigmatic yellow swirls into my mixture. Three drops of Intensely Emotional and five of Selfless. Two of Tolerant. Four of Courageous. A combination of Strong and Resilient equaling a quarter cup.
I wrote recently about how important it is for me to raise my children to not be judgmental of other people or their life choices. Today I’m discussing another facet of compassion that grabs my heart and squeezes .
I was walking my dog, Milo, in a field near our house, when another dog came out of the trees and trotted over to us. I was nervous at first because I didn’t know if this dog was aggressive, but it turns out he just wanted to say hi to Milo. This dog was skinny, and had a few cysts under his skin like old dogs get, but otherwise appeared healthy. No collar, although the hair around his neck was indented like he’d had a collar recently. He trotted behind us nearly all the way back to my house, but then meandered between two houses and disappeared. When he didn’t respond to my calls, I got the impression he was deaf. I ran in my house to get food and water and came back out, calling, “Puppy! Puppy!”
I’m at my local Starbucks last week, which happens to be located inside a Barnes and Noble – I know, heaven – and I’m drinking my favorite daytime beverage, wine coffee, with my book whisperer, Mandi, and we’re doing what all women do when we have a sliver of time to talk uninterrupted:
There are lovely things about having a friend from across the pond, regardless of which side of that pond you reside. It’s a keyhole view into another world, where cultural norms may differ. There’s also the added benefit of hearing their accent whenever you want. *swoon*
But sometimes these cultural norms can be utterly bewildering. Shocking, even. My guest today is someone most of you know and LoveAdoreCherish as much as I do: Lizzi of Considerings. She has a tale of culture clash that will leave you shivering in your knickers….or some English phrase like that, and I haven’t the foggiest notion who this mystery ‘Murican is. See if you can guess.
One week ago, I was driving my eldest to gymnastics when my youngest (7yo) made a bold declaration from the back seat: “I’m not going to play with Shane anymore cuz he told me he doesn’t believe in God.”