In Passing

I lost a dear friend recently. We met nearly 20 years ago when some friends at the newspaper I wrote for descended on me and connected my first computer to the Internet. We talked on a chat called ICQ, a social network out of Israel and talked through a long Eastern Shore winter. About the time the strawberries were ripe in May, Sue came south from New Jersey to pay me a visit.

People who write about soul mates tell of the lightning bolt of recognition that happens when members of the same soul group meet and I guess you could say it is true. We fell into each other's arms and were fast friends ever after.

But we could not have been more different. Sue was super energetic and loved shopping above all other occupations. She especially liked to collect owls and lighthouses. The fact I was between jobs and with a part-time gig to pay the rent, I found myself scouring the local yard sales and flea markets for things to sell on ebay, which made for that much more fun since we got to go shopping together - and furnished my apartment in the process.

As time moved on Sue married the nicest man, but while her search for love had been long, her sweetheart passed within a couple of years and again she began to spend many weekends in Cambridge or I traveled and joined her in Delaware.

And we called one another daily for years. It wasn't what we said so much as the regard that colored our communications.

Then cancer reared its ugly head and we both pretty much figured our time was numbered. We said I love you every time we spoke and that lasted until her final visit to the hospital. I knew she had gone when she did not answer my call and the next day I called her sister. Fran put the phone beside Sue's head on the pillow so I could say I loved her one more time.

About fifteen minutes later Fran called to say Sue had passed. I was so grateful I answered the urge to call and had the opportunity to say goodby. The hard part is that I am going to miss her - every evening when we might have called, on the road to the salvage store, overnights at one home or the other, and the encouragement she offered for my writing and crafts that kept my energy up when I wondered how to make ends meet.

Now, my heart jumps when I see an owl or lighthouse, but I know my friend has not gone far away. She's waiting at the curb for the next shopping expedition and enjoying the day. I hope you do as well. Look for the sunny side, it is waiting for you on the sidewalk with a new discovery or loved memory. Love, Terry

On Learning to Sit Still

I don't know about you, but there are times in my life when I wonder just exactly what is going on and if I am making any progress at all. This is an especially frequent occasion when winter grips the land with icy fingers and the trees clatter and clack to a music I cannot hear.

The thing I often forget to take into consideration is that the world continues to turn, despite what may seem like a dismal lack of progress. It is only after the fact that I realize the time that seemed so empty was in reality full of things to be noticed from my place of immobility.

My cat, who has surely superhuman intelligence, knows the value of sitting still and he does so at every opportunity. He understands, you see, that sitting upon his person affords us both a bit more warmth in a chilly world. For Shadow, sitting still rules!

On warmer days, sitting still allows me to trace the progress of seeds I plant, a task I enjoy very much. Plants grow quickly - and slowly at the same time. One cannot see the progress as the tiny seedling bursts out of the seed and reaches for the sun, but the little plant grows nonetheless.

With this realization I have come to understand that all things are possible given faith and inner stillness. As such, I wish you a good day and a walk on the sunny side. Love, Terry


On Learning to Sit Still


I have spent all my life
Hurrying to get things done:
There were dishes and papers,
And cakes decorated in tiers.
I have spent all my life
Waiting for things to happen:
There were births, and deaths,
And fireworks on rainy nights.
I have spent all my life
Trying to understand:
There were people, and ideas,
And dogs that ate shoes.
I have spent all my life
Looking for answers:
To questions, and mysteries
And why my son won’t call
I have spent all my life
Watching for signs
Like falling stars, and clovers,
And letters from sadder times.
I have spent all my life
Working to stay alive:
And sold my breath, my youth,
And jewels made of glass.
What’s next?

Random Apples

Great News! My new short story collection is in print! This is my 19th title, and I am so grateful that my life has allowed me to continue with what has turned out to be my life's work. Random Apples is a collection of short stories based on some of my experiences and offers a series of short reads for the busy reader.

I am looking forward to offering Random Apples at the Annie Oakley Festival in Cambridge, but if you can't wait, you can download the book on your Kindle or Nook.

A dozen years ago, I was just getting into e-books and it was pretty hard to believe a writer would be doing business in that arena, but you know what? It works! Many of my books are avaialable as e-books as well as in print and I am hoping that all you good people who like my work will take advantage of the sustainablity of book files that don't use paper or petroleum products to move information and diversions with the click of a mouse. (I never thought a mouse would be a good thing either.)

At any rate, I am proud of the work, and like the old woman who lived in a shoe, I am looking forward to more blessed literary babies as time goes on.

I hope you like my work and will continue to enjoy the stories I have to tell. The weatherman says it is going to rain, but I hope you walk on the sunny side, Love, Terry

PS: Random Apples is dedicated to my publisher Arline Chase and to the Wednesday Morning Artists for many encouraging words!

Random Apples

I had an email from my publisher at Cambridge Books saying that my new book of short stories called Random Apples is on the cusp of going to the printer.

This will be my 19th book published either in print, as an e-book, or both. You might think the experience would grow old over time, but each of my 'babies' is special to me and I am excited to hold that first copy in my hands. I guess you could say that holding that new book is bliss - and you know what people say about following one's bliss - that goodness will follow.

You might think that such an impressive output might be noticed in the greater scheme of things, but so far the sales have been modest. I was, however, surprised by a young fan Saturday evening at the Taste of Cambridge event, who said she had read all my books and asked to have her photo taken with me! I was touched.

It is small incidents like meeting that young woman that give me that little extra push to keep working - the work is the blessing after all. And yes, I am working on the sixth book for my Chesapeake Heritage series. I'm not talking about it much yet, but it is keeping me grounded in the dream and I am thankful that the stories keep knocking at my door.

I hope you have a dream and are making it come true and that you keep on the sunny side today and throughout your journey. Love, Terry

Myth to Me: Songs From The Inner Light

Wow! The Christmas holiday was so busy that I didn't get to post an announcement that my newest book - the 17th! - was published in December. Myth to Me: Songs From the Inner Light is a book of verse inspired by just about everything!

Some of the poems in this new book have been hanging around in notebooks for some time. Others were written during the summer and autumn of 2010. While it is true I have published a volume of poetry before, Myth to Me was a different sort of work.

Runaway Hearts is my first book of verse and it is centered on the history of the area in which I live and includes stories about a pirate, a waterman and the history of Harriet Tubman, who wove a legend so large it cast its shadows across the years and shines as an example of selfless courage to the young people everywhere.

Myth to Me is a collection of shorter verse, with much more personal focus. Some of the verses take on the world and my take on current events. Some are from my personal history and a few are more classically formed. So far, my readers have had good things to say about the collection, I don't know.

I never really thought of myself as a poet, and certainly never aimed at that designation. The thing is, when I have an idea, I don't always have much control over the form that idea must take in its final form.

A great deal of my interests and theories appear in my novels, and sometimes in the country songs I make. Poetry is more rare, so it took years to put Myth to Me together. I am not sure I will write another, but like my good friend Dawn Tarr always says, "It's all good."

I hope that everything you do is goo and that you keep on the sunny side!

Love, Terry

PS: If you love poetry, Myth to Me is available at Amazon, Kindle, etc. Happy
Reading

PPS: The photo for this edition is Fire Island Walk by my great friend Claudia Conlon.