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The evolution of my novels, leading to Caroline’s Lighthouse publication
Humble beginnings: I have mentioned before that I started writing novels when I was 13. I hand-wrote them in pencil on notebook paper. (I have scanned them and saved them digitally now in addition to keeping the originals.) Between the ages of 13-15 (or 18 if you count the typing of the last novel) I wrote 7 book-length stories: Night and Day, When Does Life Begin?, Four Hearts, Jordan’s Sister, Just Taylor, One Shot, and Caroline’s Lighthouse. I also had an idea for a story about a young girl named Kincaid staying at her grandparents’ motel for the summer and the lessons she learns, but I never wrote anything more…
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Coward
“Coward” Iambic Pentameter-Metrical Poetry Workshop 2002 Her bright safe haven should be haunted but Warm sun breaks through the cold attic window And over her bruised face onto the stairs. Her best friend, though not real, once lived there with The ghosts and dreams she had not yet foreseen. No one knows she hides there—those steps of loss. The hurt is fresh with agony, anger. His cowardly grace keeps her awake nights. She cries and thinks he could not have hurt her. Not again, she thought she’d be happy then. Disclaimer: I loathe writing metrical poetry. I did the best I could, but wasn’t really happy with anything I wrote…
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Faith
“Faith” Free verse poetry, Poetry Workshop 2002 She might have lost her faith in God that night Had life’s stopped heart not started again when She cried and beat her fists upon his chest. Liquor—the silent, killing distraction That screwed his mind—left him dying, gasping. Her heart of needles continued to beat, But with each beat, bad thoughts and blood would clash And clot and send rotting acidic waves To her stomach: cancerous ulcer and death. She has time for neither. The life she had Chased died before she knew. She found the ghost Of his memory—the man who could have died Without her pleading prayers and tears. He lived, But…
