I don’t think anything warms a writer’s heart as much as seeing her story in print. Two stories, double the warmth. You could triple or even quadruple my warmth by clicking the links provided below and ordering a copy or two which will net me a small commission.
Okay, I’m done marketing.
First up in my double-header: America’s Emerging Literary Fiction Writers!
See here, about halfway down the page, is my story title and my name:
It’s enough to make me dance in my chair.
The short story in in this volume is “Love Me Tender,” about one morning in the life of Irene Newkirk, a middle-aged woman coming to grips with her husband’s mental illness and the weight of caring for her teen-aged daughter as well as keeping up appearances.
I wrote my first draft of this story in 1992, in a fiction workshop with the late Jerome Stern at Florida State University. I remember being surprised at how well it was received and, in particular, Stern’s enthusiasm over how well I could “do cold.” Well, yeah, I can definitely “do cold” after surviving twenty-one New York winters in a two-story house with only a first-floor furnace for heat. They say heat rises, but when you’re on the second floor and it’s double-digits below zero, heat don’t rise high enough.
My second story is in this anthology, America’s Emerging Suspense Writers. The Deep South:
And again, my name and story in print. Swoon.
Even though I do not consider myself a Southerner, even though some don’t even consider Florida as part of the Deep South given its history and demographics, and even though my story takes place in upstate New York, I think it’s kind of cool being in an anthology that marks me as an emerging writer in the Deep South. Well, it’s kind of cool being in any anthology.
“Together Forever,” is a horror story, one involving a different middle-aged woman. Vicky Brooks is a real estate agent in an economically depressed part of New York. She yearns to escape the cold dreariness of her hometown and her husband. She hopes to get that chance with Miss Smith, a potential buyer for a broken-down mansion, except there is something rather odd about Miss Smith.
If either of these stories interests you, then I hope you’ll take a chance on my writing and help me fully emerge. Here again are the links:
America’s Emerging Literary Fiction Writers
America’s Emerging Suspense Writers. The Deep South
Finally, here’s a correction for those of you who still have “Hello Julia” on a loop from last Monday’s post.
The museum has its own live web cam giving you a bird’s eye view of the rainforest canopy: 
My friend, a young red-tailed hawk making eye contact with me as if to say, “Go on, you. I’m scouting for squirrels.” Now I did zoom in with my iPhone camera but that utility line was maybe a few feet above me, fairly low for a hawk to be hanging out nonchalantly, surveying his kingdom. I walked for about forty-five minutes, looping around our few streets so I passed by him three times. Even as I headed home that evening, he was still out there, on the wire.
Marie at 1 Write Way 