The historical novel of “The Saffron Gate” by Linda Holeman grabbed hold of me and wouldn’t let go. Linda Holeman, a Canadian writer, has a wonderful gift of writing historical fiction with descriptive details about the setting, making the story come alive without losing our connection to the characters and their plight.I have read many of her novels and always enjoy them. Often some books get bogged down describing too much and we lose sight of the story. I find that Linda Holeman is adept at balancing all the many elements that go into a good novel. As a fiction writer myself, I know how hard it is to get it right and often struggle with all those elements. The story begins with Sidonie O’ Shea, a young woman with a French Canadian mother and Irish father in Albany, New York in 1930. She suffered polio as a child leaving her with a crippled leg and this has made her very reclusive and shy. A car accident that kills her father haunts her with guilt since she wa
Showing posts from February, 2016
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I am doing the Wordy Wednesday challenge at Blog A Rhythm where we are required to use one to three of the phrase prompts in a post. Wordy Wednesday Since I like to give myself a challenge, I decided to use all of the phrases in a poem. My Dual Nature Far from the madding crowd I hide, I much prefer being alone, Everyone is so brash and loud, I even despise the phone, Even though I’m an introvert, I do like having my say, I want my fifteen minutes of fame , I’m kind of strange that way, Famous last words have now been written, there’s no turning back the time, My dual nature is a part of me, like my love of writing rhyme, Fat lot of good it does to worry, might as well accept my ways, I’ll face the music and start to dance, enjoying the rest of my days!
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This cartoon certainly touched a nerve this morning and triggered an outpouring of emotion that has evolved into this blog post. I sure miss my mom’s phone calls. That was our way of staying connected across the vast thousand mile distance between Ontario and Cape Breton. My mom just loved to talk on the phone with friends and family, especially during the last few years of her life when she wasn’t as active anymore. She would come out to the sunroom, sit in her favourite chair (sometimes with an orange cat in her lap) and phone people. She used to put on the speaker phone which I never liked, but she found it easier and my dad could listen in, too. I used to tell her I wasn't a phone person and that I preferred email and Facebook are since I express myself best in writing. What I wouldn't do for one of my mom’s phone calls now. Miss her every day. I'm adapting and going on, as one must do after losing a loved one, but life is defini