My Series in a Nutshell

Lately, I’ve dabbled in another writing medium that condenses every word and sentence to a bare minimum—screenwriting. Challenge accepted. I’m competitive with the me I once was yesterday, last week, last year.

In a Can I Do It moment, I shortened the descriptions of the books in my Series into four lines each. Why? For practice, of course. Is it poetic? I don’t know, but I like it. At the end of the day, isn’t that what matters most to a writer?

 

The Chemical Attraction Series

Taylor, Eva, and Joe

Siblings by Choice since Childhood.

Following different Paths after College.

Afraid of Drifting Apart . . .

 

Their Rigid Rules

A Professor’s Rigid Rules.

A Graduate’s Perfect Plan.

A Jealous Friend.  A Vengeful Foe.

His Seminar sparks the Blaze.

 

The Kindred Code

Icy First Impressions.

Hopeful Second Chances.

A Willful Spitfire.  A Heroic Cop.

A Boy longing for a mother.

 

Chemical Attraction

An Abused Scientist hiding from Love.

A Lonely Agent searching for it.

Surrounded by the Sinister Shadows.

A Dance and a Kiss jolt their Fate.

 

Chemical Reaction

Her Life.  Their Future.  The Nation’s Security.

All in uncertain peril.

Professional Integrity over Personal Desire?

Wounded Hearts may not recover.

 

Thanks for stopping by today.  I appreciate your support.

Want to read the full descriptions? Check out my Amazon Series Page

 

 

 

 

 

 

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His Poem isn’t Perfect; His Sentiment is.

Sorting through a stack of papers on my desk, I came across a poem I had intended to read at my father’s funeral back in March.  I didn’t. No regrets though because my niece Maggie had shared an essay she wrote about her grandpa that fit perfectly with the eulogy.

I sat at my desk and read the poem again.  I cried. I didn’t really know the man. I mean I knew the facts. He served as a Marine during the Korean War. He worked for the State of Michigan. He wasn’t a fan of fishing but loved football. What I didn’t know was how he felt about his life, his children, his parents, his past, his career… Sharing wasn’t his strong suit unless he was angry then we all knew it.

Reading that poem brought to mind his deep love for his wife. My dad was a romantic at heart. The poem proved it.

It came about a few years ago. He wanted to write a poem recounting their fifty years together, and he wanted me to help him. “You’re the writer after all,” he said.

I hesitated. I’ve never written poetry. How do we even start? Well, the usual couple fighting came to mind but that’s not the part he wanted her to remember. I kept putting off this assignment, but Dad’s health worsened along with his memory.

Finally, when he was in a reminiscing mood, I asked him if it was love at first sight for him and Mom.

His sarcastic reply, “Well, yeah, I met Linda in September, proposed to her in October, then married her in November of the same year.” Okay then. I agreed there was an instant chemistry.

In the nick of time, we came up with this poem for their anniversary. It’s not perfect, but his sentiment is.

 

Dad’s 50th Anniversary Poem

 

Many years have gone by since the day we met.

I may not remember them all.

Important are the ones that define our life,

Not the ones too ordinary to recall.

 

I may not remember the glasses on my head

Or the passwords to all our accounts

But I remember meeting you for the very first time

And thinking I’ve finally lucked out.

 

Our children have rolled their eyes many times

of the story of my proposal to you.

However, my life became complete when you answered so sweet

And replied to my vow with “I do”.

 

I may not remember to eat properly or to locate the remote right next to my knee

Yet I remember our first night as man and wife

The popcorn we shared a tasty delight

As the full moon through the cabin window shined bright.

 

The books I’ve misplaced and the pills I must take

You’ve helped me to sort them all out.

Not a moment I regret, our life course had been set

You’re my beam of light with no doubt.

 

Many years have gone by since the day we met.

I may not remember them all.

Important are the ones that define our life,

Not the ones too ordinary to recall.

~ Hershall Bennett