My Latest Award Certificate — and CHECK!

 

The postman brought this lovely certificate today, along with prize money. Oh, my, what fun. Granted, the check may only pay for one dinner out, but I am grateful indeed for this lovely suprise. Thank you, Rocky Mountain Fiction Writers!

I’ve been rewriting this story and having a grand time doing so. Perhaps this time, it will find a publishing home. (From my fingertips to these words to God’s ear!)

 

A book I wish I had published

Swept: Love with a Chance of Drowning by Torre DeRoche

I found the link for this story on the Women Cruisers Yahoo Group, of which I am a huge fan because we’re all women who are, who have been, or who want to be out cruising the seas. The book sounded fun, and I’m a sucker for sailing stories, so I downloaded the Kindle version.

Torre DeRoche had me grinning and laughing and disrupting Michael’s peace with a, “Listen to this,” repeated more times than he liked.

The woman can write. Her sense of the ridiculous bridges the generations. I caught myself thinking, Oh, glory, but I’ve been there, even when Torre’s stories involved coping with terra firma.

Yes, this is a memoir of her struggle with the sea and a boat, but it’s also a love story with a twist of suspense, a story of finding courage when your gut clenches and all you want to do is go home.  It’s real and heartwarming and an absolute hoot to read.

Let me give you a few examples of her word-crafting:

“Amazing Grace spins a few nesting dog circles and Ivan releases our mud-covered anchor into a water bath.” Can’t you see it, this 32′ Valiant turning to find the perfect spot before settling in for the night?

This one sounds like Michael and me–except for the hair color: “They both have salt-and-pepper hair and eyes etched in happiness lines, yet their personalities are frozen somewhere around thirty. The ocean has preserved them.”

“Tall pinnacles, green with palms, buffer every breath of wind, leaving the water as smooth as an ironed silk sheet.” I, the grammar nazi, can ignore a (very) few glitches when soothed by sentences that slide under my guard and drag me into Torre’s world: “I can brood like no one’s business. Instead of appreciating my first look at an atoll, I roll around in the mud of my disappointment. I refuse to enjoy the papaya-colored sunset or its reflection off the water. I ignore the warm breeze that kisses apologetically at my crossed arms. I will not let a sky full of stars and galaxies, of moonlight illuminating the water’s surface, dislodge my mood.”

Ivan tells Torre she’s beautiful.  “I don’t feel beautiful. My hair is frizzy, the bridge of my nose is pink, my eyebrows have been sun bleached to non-existence, and I’m lethargic from our diet of long-life foods. This lifestyle looks far better on Ivan–the messy hair, the stubble, the worn clothes, and his serene expression. Rugged fits him so perfectly that I can no longer imagine him in a business suit.”

And after boat-made pizza: “My body, specifically my small intestine, isn’t so happy with the pizza. It’s clogged with wheat-based products that have stopped for a week-long nap between my mouth and my colon. After months without fresh food in my diet, I don’t just need fruit and vegetables–I need Drano.”

On watch for underwater dangers: “I’m the coral-head watch girl. Nobody should entrust me with this job. With a wayward imagination like mine, it’s like employing a dementia sufferer as an air traffic controller.”

I could go on and on. And these gems aren’t necessarily the best: they’re merely the ones I could find this morning as I Kindle-surfed for snippets to share. This is a book I’ll read again. I am also going to order the paperback for my mother, who at 83 still loves our sailing adventures. I can hear her tinkling laughter now….