Recent Reading

The Binder of Lost Stories by Cristina Caboni is available through Kindle Unlimited. The book is 261 pages, but it reads quickly. Threads from the present and past are expertly woven in this tale of book romance. I thoroughly enjoyed this novel and highly recommend it. Were ten on the rating scale, it would easily earn it, as is it is a glorious five.

The Whisper Man by Alex North was read on Kindle and is 350 pages of consummate storytelling with spellbinding horror. Children are our future, but no future should be like this. It reads quickly because the writing is exquisite, but it might chill your blood to the bone. Excellently told, another I would award a ten, but our scales like to end at five, so be it.

The Hellfire Club by Jake Tapper is one of those Kindle books I was not quite prepared for and was taken out beyond the breakers. It came in at 344 pages, but it is so much more than that indicates. You may be aware I shy from politics, this book goes right to the heart of the beast, and what we do not know, well, it is revealing. It is a reasonably fast read, but the taste will stay with you a while. Another one which should be a ten, but it is a racy five.

The Killing Fog by Jeff Wheeler is a First Read on Kindle this month coming in at 404 pages. I think had I realized it fell into YA, I might have taken a pass. That said, the story is enchanting and heroic, classic good against evil. Swords, magic, dragons, villains, a female protagonist. It gets a five.

You may find I often rate fives, the reason being I almost always pick books I know I will enjoy. When purchased books disappoint me, I am usually surprised.

I seem to be on a Kindle kick. I read faster on a device. It is probably because I do my steps while reading, and the screen is illuminated, whereas the shadows affect my vision when I read hardcovers.

Whatever you do, read. It helps a person in so many ways. Also, instill the love of reading in everyone you can.

© Jo Ann J. A. Jordan

Apologies To Allen et al.

You sudden, wake up,
To find the world is not all
Things you had in mind,
But still, life beckons much like
A closeted skeleton,
Reminding you, “Time
Waits For No One,” exacting
Its toll on bodies,
Minds, the frolics of each day
Fading quickly now away.
You hear a whisper,
“I Can’t Get No Satisfaction,”
While the tears run down
Your face without any trace
Of the deeds, you are obliged
To do in your hurry
To become who you will be
In the darn, “Who’s Who”
Directory, which you have
Always wished to discover
Some method, madness,
To propel yourself to fame
Which is not tinted
By the same “True Colors,” as
Everyone who makes
Good the journey, slowly begun,
In the paltry neighborhood
Where we each were born
With not one shiny penny
To launch us into
The stratosphere, you will know
Of which I mention because
The tarry residue clings
To the racy wardrobe amassed
Along the way to the present
From the seconds of yesterday.
You shout, “Failure is not an option,”
While looking over your shoulder
To see hungry wolves clawing
Their way minute by minute
Through the balsa door erected
In haste to shelter your dreams
From the awful extremes of envy,
The monster that turns friends
Against friends and makes lovers
Into the direst of enemies.
You are reminded never
To settle for less than the best,
While begging an agent to take
Chances on a story you could
Hardly tell because of impressions
Which impelled you to recognize
You sold your creativity
Off to a lower bidder without
Believing you had “The Right Stuff”
And “The Matrix” could not come
Together in “The Field of Dreams”
For we are all just prisoners here
Captured by the devices that
Will not allow us to enter paradise.
Still, now, do not succumb
To that black-feathered bird
Whispering above the door,
“Nevermore,” for it has no idea
The greatness lying awakened
Within the love-lorn heart beating
Tell-tale inside of you
For you sail with the angels
Across an endless sea into
Whatsoever, however, whenever
Will come to be your slice
Of “Supernatural” reality.
At last, there is no peace
In which to rest, because
Debtors have no recourse
But to pay, and pay again
And so must go on writing
Even ever and evermore.

© Jo Ann J. A. Jordan

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Sometimes I play, like the child I once was, left alone for a moment on a snowy day, when nothing could longer destroy who I believed I might be, given an opportunity.

© Jo Ann J. A. Jordan

 

 

Welcome February

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This is Goobi, my grand kitty. She believes she owns me, and I am a semi-obedient cat servant now, so maybe she is right.

There is a lot of material in the following pages, so please humor me and read it all. It has been a while since I have written much by hand, so my script is iffy at times. It will improve as I do this again.

I have mentioned I work slow, I have done all these since about 1 or 2 am, until minutes ago. The scanning process was a nightmare with the Dell. Do not get a Dell.

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That last haiku is a tribute to Freddie Mercury, and someone, but no one.

I hope you are having an outstanding day. I have stayed busy. I may be back, but it depends.

There is a lot swirling around inside me right now, the thing is finding the right piece to begin assembling the puzzle and the proper color to paint it with.

God bless you! Create. Write your name bold across the globe. You are a masterpiece.

As a prompt, if you are brave – post a handwritten page or more.

© Jo Ann J. A. Jordan

 

AWay (Joined Tankas & More)

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This drawing was done last week, but I was not happy with it. Still practicing. I have to find my way in that too.

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I finished the book, The Ten Thousand Doors of January last night. This book was a pure delight. I give it a five only because most ratings do not go to ten. I recommend you read it. Love, adventure, complicated relationships, the power of Words. I will not spoil it.

This is one of my current reads:

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This is a fascinating book, maybe more than I bargained for when I bought it.

I am grateful:

  1. For bananas: and learning, they can be refrigerated.
  2. For coffee, you know, coffee.
  3. For the things I own.
  4. For the ability to read, write, and do art and photography.
  5. For Alex, who means the world to me.

As a prompt, review something you have read, seen, or done lately. Share it, or just make it yours.

© Jo Ann J. A. Jordan