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BLACK LIGHTNING and DRAGON SWORDS

12/5/2021

"Dragon Lightning" by J.S. Burke: Drakor's Sword.

Drakor nodded. “When we toss titanium into a lightning shaft, it glows black and sparkles like diamonds. Black lightning isss special.”
Arak snapped his tail. “Should I feel honored that an ice dragon attacked us with black lightning?”
Drakor shrugged his wings. “Probably. They wanted to drive the point home.”
Arak stared at the charred wood on his skiff, feeling an inner storm of anger. Then he laughed. “Definitely driven home.”
Drakor clouted Arak on the back, nearly knocking him over. “Now I will teach you to gather lightning with no storm. First, stand tall. It helps to be higher in the sky.”
Arak stretched taller.
“Tilt your claws toward a sparkle in the clouds. Feel the tingle.” Drakor gestured with his claws. “Gather charges of energy. A small energy ball in your claws pulls in more energy. It isss like a snowball rolling down a hill. The snowball gathers more and more snow. Soon you have enough energy to make a lightning bolt.”
Arak tilted his copper claws and concentrated. Nothing happened. “Drakor, you’re right. Gathering sky energy to make lightning is very different from focusing body energy to make sparks.” He tried again. And again. Late in the evening, Arak finally held a tiny pearl of fire. He wore a happy/proud/exhausted expression on his face.
Scree’s eyes twinkled. “You look just like a dragon-lady gazing at her first egg.”
Arak gathered more energy and the fire pearl grew. “It’s like holding a star.”
Scree watched closely. “I can’t see magnetic lines, but I can feel energy. I want to hold a star.”
Drakor nodded to Arak. “That isss good. Let the lightning ball grow bigger. Then we will learn to find wrinkles so you can hit a target. This turns the bolt into a lightning sword.”
Arak looked up from his star. “What?”
“Wrinkles are wiggly magnetic lines. They attract lightning. I use my inner sight to find a magnetic wrinkle near the target. Wrinkles are small and do not hold still. When the wrinkle isss on top of the target I toss the bolt. The wrinkle will attract the lightning bolt and I will hit my target.”
“That would be more accurate than the way we toss lightning bolts onto the beach,” Taron said, frowning at the shadowed corridor between floating ice-mountains.
Arak followed his gaze. “Dorali, grab that pole. We may need it.”
Drakor eyed the channel and stood taller. “Why do you hit sand?”
Taron adjusted the tiller, carefully guiding the skiff down the middle. “The sand melts and makes glass rods. Octopi love them and trade us beautiful pearls, seaweed, even oyster spat.”
Drakor grimaced. “Spat?”
Arak laughed, but his eyes were glued to the ice-mountains. “Spat is oyster seed, to grow oysters. They’re tasty, and oysters make a strong reef. The tsunami tore up our shore under the sea. We put oyster spat on rope nets and placed them on the dead sand, weighted with rocks. This has grown into an oyster reef.”
Taron added, “Octopi planted new eelgrass below the waves. This and the oysters helped bring back the fish, and our undersea shore is alive again.”
Thick, blue-gray shadows filled the channel like dense smoke. Pale afternoon light slid along the knife-sharp edges of ice. Arak laid his ears back instinctively as he faced this menace. “How do you find magnetic wrinkles?” he asked, almost as an after-thought. The ice danger sucked him in as surely as a bog of quicksand.
“The same way I gather sky energy: I concentrate.” Drakor flicked his claws out and a bright pearl appeared. It quickly grew into a glowing, twisting ball. “Magnetic wrinkles are small, and they wriggle.”
Arak glanced at the energy pearl for just a moment. “I watch sparkles in the magnetic field to judge the strength of storms. I follow curved magnetic lines to find land. But I can’t see wrinkles . . . yet.” He stared at the towering walls of ice as they entered the narrow channel.
Taron carefully adjusted the tiller, steering the dragon-skiff down the center.
An ice-mountain tilted, creating a powerful whirlpool that sucked them into the ice.
Taron lifted the wood pole and stared hopelessly at the falling giant. Time slowed. The sky disappeared. Dragons stretched their wings to fly. Orm and Scree flowed to the edge of the skiff, ready to drop into the sea. All too late.
The air grew heavier as the mountain rolled over, crushing down.
A ball of blinding white light flew to the ice, stretching, growing into a lightning sword. The tip gouged deep into a crack, boiling the ice from within. The iceberg shattered. Ice chunks rained down and skittered across the deck as the skiff slipped past to safety.
Everyone stared at Drakor.
He flicked ice off the deck with his long tail. “This isss good practice for the ice game Slam.” Chunks flew overboard, skimming just above the rail, one after another. It was a precision drill.
“You knew that ice-mountain would fall?” Arak asked.
Drakor shrugged his wings. “Not sure. The ice-mountain was old, worn on top, so I was watching. Old, white mountains are more likely to flip over. After it flips, the ice isss blue like the sea.”
Arak clapped him on the shoulder. “So that’s why some are blue. That was a useful lightning bolt.”
Drakor grinned. “I make lots of lightning swords to practice for the games.”
Taron hit ice chunks with his tail, but they merely slid beneath the rail. “How do you play games with lightning swords?”
“Many ice targets are put on a field. Then the drum beats slowly. Each player has one turn. There are ten drumbeats to hit targets with lightning swords. The winner isss the dragon who hits the most targets in the least drumbeats.” Drakor’s eyes glowed.
Dorali wiped cold sea spray off her face. “Have you won?”
Drakor studied his sharp claws in silence. He flicked them out and started growing a new lightning sword. “Yes.”

*FIND DRAGON LIGHTNING HERE*
Kindle: http://authl.it/B01MA1ZOJ6?d
e-Books: www.books2read.com/u/3k0nOn
Paperback: www.relinks.me/0996042563

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Creating WINTER'S CHILD

11/20/2021

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Once upon a time, there was a fierce winter. Snow drifts towered above me like white storm waves . . . cold, soft mountains I could tunnel into or slide down.

I was a young child when my family drove from the east coast to northern North Dakota. We gathered with relatives at my grandfather’s farm for Christmas.

There were no kids near my age, so I explored this new world on my own. “Winter’s Child”, my new book, has roots in this experience.
"She played in deep snowdrifts as tall as her head,
And flew down the hills on her small wooden sled.
"HOW CAN ONE CHILD She built snow castles with icicle towers.
END THE LONG, FIERCE WINTER?" She played all alone for hours and hours."

We built an enormous igloo from blocks of packed snow. A cold snow bench wrapped around the inner wall; snow sconces held candles. I "helped".

A dozen relatives crowded close on the circular bench while a blanket covered the entrance. Candlelight added flickering shadows.

Within this primitive cave, I felt connected to generations of family and to our world.

*Village Huts in WINTER'S CHILD*

The sea called to me. I grew up and moved to the south to become a marine biologist. But I missed the snow.

One day, I folded a piece of paper and cut out a fanciful snowflake with leaping dolphins. A story grew in my mind.

I wrote the fairytale but needed more fantasy flakes to complete the book.

*FIRST PAPER FANTASY FLAKE* (Yes, I'm surprised it survived, too. :-) )

Years later, I had designed and drawn many pen-and-ink flakes.

Now I realized that this story needed to be in rhyme,
like an ancient tale shared by firelight.

I soon learned that if one line
can’t properly rhyme with the next line,
you need to start over with a whole new stanza. Yay.

*LEAPING WHALE FLAKE*

Finally, the long story-poem was finished! I field-tested “Winter’s Child” with children and adults and adjusted a few pages.

What size should the book be?

7.5 inch wide X 9.25 inch high allows for generous margins, with room for illustration and text on each page.
The 14 point font is easy on the eyes.

*SEAL-OF-APPROVAL SNOWFLAKE* (Everyone needs a seal of approval!)

Next, the illustrations! A chance to experiment and gnash my teeth in frustration.

The fanciful flakes looked lost on a page;
they needed frames to hold them.
I drew boxes, printed the book,
and studied the empty frame above each poem.

What would capture the essence?
I wanted stylized pix with a feel of
stained glass windows.

*DOLPHIN & JAGUAR FLAKES*

I pencil-sketched a picture in each framed box
and began to draw, but . . .
How do you draw the Wind?

How do you draw a T. rex cloud that's shifting apart?

I removed cloud limbs, made marshmallow teeth, and made the cloud more fluffy in humorous contrast to the dangerous, sharp-edged predator.

*T. rex CLOUD Falling Apart*

I drew simple flakes for background snow.
Now the poem and pix were finished.
Even better: the very last word of the poem-story is . . . “end”! :-)

At last, the cover! Mariah and Wind are playing amongst the bare trees.
One ancient tree wraps around the spine, connecting the covers.

“Winter’s Child” is an upbeat, original fairytale
in rhyming verse with fanciful illustrations.

It’s a story of the power of friendships,
which truly do change the world.
I hope you enjoy this book as much as it challenged me
to properly complete my “once upon a time.”

Thanks to all who helped. Thanks for stopping by!

Find WINTER'S CHILD here:
PAPERBACK: http://www.authl.it/B09K21BLLX?d
KINDLE: http://www.authl.it/B09KZZX9TQ?d

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ARMY BOOTS AND REBEL LOOPHOLES

6/13/2021

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This was my first day on the job.
The loaded tray was heavy and unwieldy, not quite safe, but I was managing.
Miss O, my new boss, approached. I stood politely in my waitress uniform,
wearing my white sports shoes. These were comfy, attractive, and nearly new.

Miss O glared. “Your shoes must have a hard sole. Those are not acceptable.”
I’m quite sure she wanted attractive flats or nice pumps.

However, I had almost no money, and certainly none for new shoes;
that’s why this job was part of my college financial package.
I quietly fumed. In addition to my money concerns, I was born to question stupid rules.
This job had no need for hard-soled shoes, so there was no real need to reject my shoes.

Fortunately, I knew where to find the perfect cheap shoes: an Army Surplus store within walking distance of campus. For my next shift I wore used, bulky, jet black, lace-up army boots with my dress. Army boots are quite heavy and not quite comfortable, but sacrifices must be made. These boots contrasted nicely with my pin-striped uniform dress, and the effect was absolutely breath-taking.

Miss O grew pale beneath her perfect makeup. “Army boots!?!”

I smiled and turned to daintily show off the worn, hard-soled bottom of each shoe.
“They have the best hard soles.”

I knew she couldn’t fire me if I followed the letter of her many rules.
Happily, loopholes can often be found when rebellious frustration
is paired with imagination. I wore my army boots for each work shift,
along with a satisfied smile.

Two months later, a gala event was planned. Miss O approached me warily.
“Could you please wear your white tennis shoes this weekend?”

“Why, Miss O! That would be against the rules.”

She gave a stiff smile. “I’ll make an exception for this event.”

I politely agreed to her request. I wished for her sake that she was not such a rigid person, which would have been better for everyone. Still, I disliked rules that made life more dangerous, difficult, cheerless, or, worse, rules designed to make us workers feel servile. I’ve never accepted that for myself or others.

We, the recipients of financial aid, were expected to work in complete silence. This was another rule I quietly questioned. So I taught myself the alphabet of the deaf, plus a few signs. When we were off duty, I taught this skill to the other workers.

Our hands wove beautiful words. We soon conversed quite happily, in complete silence. This was a lovely loophole that Miss O never expected. Years later I wrote “The Dragon Dreamer” with Scree, a character who speaks in silence. Not too surprisingly, she also has no use for senseless rules.

I was politely rebellious for two years. My third year I was offered a job in the Science Department, and I leapt for this opportunity. I’m sure Miss O was equally pleased. That year I had a dream job: I was in charge of the greenhouse. I was in heaven!

The following year the Math Department offered me a job as a tutor. I loved the “aha” moment when my fellow students understood the problems. Chemistry students visited too, since most of their difficulties involved the math of balancing chemical equations. Later, for fun, I wrote books that teach beginning math and chemistry using crystals and cartoons.

There are still people who mock, minimize, and mistreat others.
I’ve noticed this too often in the service industry.

One last thought. A degree can be a door to a certain type of job. I loved taking classes, and I needed degrees to “land” a job at sea, as a marine scientist. This was my desire-of-the-heart.

Earning a degree can be useful. But a person’s worth is not tied to a degree, which neither confers nor confirms intelligence. What is learned in four years of college means less with each passing year. What I know now matters more, as I read articles and hone new skills. Also, if you can read, you can teach yourself almost anything. Better still, you can read or write Indie books!

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OCTOPUSES: Brainy beings who run like cats

12/9/2020

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GOODREADS questions about the Dragon Dreamer octopus characters: "Can octopuses breathe out of water? And after the baby octopuses hatch, do they return to their spawning ground--their pod?"

A: Octopuses are wonderfully intelligent "aliens" with eyes like ours and skin that can see. Their arms taste and feel and act on their own with independent brains. The combined octopus brains (main brain plus eight arm brains) can have more neurons than a human brain! They may seem like aliens but are truly from Earth.

Octopuses can live out of water if they stay wet. They can chase prey up into the shallows and onto land. Octopuses routinely escape tanks and wander about out of water. Some even run like cats! One octopus escaped from her tank, ate rare fish in another tank, and returned to her "home". She traveled secretly, at night, when people were gone. She was seen on video when a monitor was installed to learn what was happening to the fish.

After baby octopuses hatch, most types do not migrate and return; they stay where they hatched. The Dragon Dreamer world is Earth-like, with a few differences. Earth octopuses are extremely clever, often outwitting people. Some change color and shape-shift their bodies to hide or mimic other creatures. They can change colors as they dream.

But the octopus life cycle is different in the books, more like that of some sea fish: hatch, leave on the currents, and return later. Also, Dragon Dreamer octopuses have a longer life.

When I began writing, little was known about octopus interactions in their natural setting. However, octopuses are smart and curious. Some types mimic other sea creatures so perfectly that you can't tell the difference! The starfish you see could be a shape-shifted, color-changed octopus! Octopuses form friendships with people in tanks and in the sea. Therefore, it seemed likely that an octopus could form friendships with other octopuses.

And . . . I was right! Several octopus villages have now been found. I was prescient!

There was no name for a group of octopuses, so I chose the term "pod". The undersea Dragon Dreamer village fits my world, and this also fits the real world! Of course, there are a few fantasy elements. :-)

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Essential Workers in an Uncivil World

4/29/2020

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Doreen and I have been friends for years. She works as a store associate, with a deep well of patience. Her job just became more challenging, as some customers focus their Covid anger on store workers.

Doreen is one of the essential employees, one of the people who enable us to get our food and supplies. Now she's working in a danger zone, exposed to customers who may have Covid-19, with less germ protection equipment than in some of the other professions.

Customers yell when the shelves are empty, as if she must have some magical power to make items appear . . . and is too stubborn to use her magic wand. Others ask if she even understands how to do her job, and rail at her. Associates develop coping methods for dealing with difficult customers and dangerous situations, but sometimes it's not enough. Please be kind.

Doreen devours books and articles like candy. Conversations range from history to government, world politics, the environment, and much more. Her memory for facts and understanding of connections is astounding; I could listen to her for hours.

John is another friend, a delightful physics nerd who tinkers with alternate energy inventions. He shares his latest research with me while he makes veggie juices in a natural foods store.

Carol works as a cashier. Her gift is to make everyone cheerful, like solid sunshine. Russ earned a law degree, hated the work, and now paints the outsides of houses. Kate is a marvelous poet, Mark is an author, and both stock shelves in a grocery store.

Everyone I've met has an intriguing life story, hobbies, dreams. Store employees make our society work and make our lives richer. Please be civil to all during these trying times.

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Everything Is Connected

3/22/2020

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My great grandfather was a farmer who liked to keep track of world news. He routinely bought and read newspapers from Europe. He followed the increase in nationalism, the bickering between countries, and more. With this information and a basic understanding of history, he foresaw WWII and our eventual involvement. This would create a shortage of metal that would be redirected to war efforts. He surveyed the farm equipment and bought extra metal parts for all the equipment, to keep it running. He was a successful farmer because he understood that everything is connected; he thought deeper and further.

Global travel meant that Covid-19 would enter our country. It was inevitable. My great grandfather, with only a few years of formal schooling, would have understood and prepared.

We can still slow the spread if we follow the coronavirus containment guidelines. Neighbors are helping neighbors, asking what is needed before going to a store. Schools are closed, but school buses deliver food to students who were on free or reduced lunch. Customers are finally polite to the people who work in the stores.

Everyone is connected. Pray for the victims, doctors, nurses, store personnel, cashiers, and everyone risking their lives to serve the public.

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DELIVER A SMILE INTO THE WORLD

12/18/2019

2 Comments

Deliver a smile into the world.
It’s the cheapest, easiest thing we can do to make our world a better place.

Yesterday, the cashier at a grocery store recognized me with a smile. She even remembered my name. “How have you been?” I had last spoken with her ten years ago, when I chose her checkout lane in a different store (which soon closed). I was surprised that she remembered me, years later, in a different setting. Apparently I was friendly and helpful on a day when it really mattered. It always matters, but some days are harder than others.

The smiles we give come back to us.

But too many customers complain, are rude, or treat workers with condescension. NO ONE has a greater intrinsic worth than another person. All people are interesting if we take the time to know their story.

A friend recently had to work a longer shift because her replacement never showed and couldn't be reached by phone. Sadly, the no-show had taken her life after her shift the previous day. There are many reasons for suicide, but it can be delayed day by day. Who was the last person who spoke with her? Were they kind?

Be kind to everyone, especially to people who work in retail or customer service. Make eye contact and say “Hi”. Wish them a good day or holiday season. Compliment their smile, or haircut, or something. Treat them with respect. Their job is often undervalued, and harder than you may realize.

What's your emotional footprint in this world?

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I Wanted A Bicycle: A Lesson In Power.

2/26/2019

8 Comments

Once upon a time, when I was 13, I wanted a bicycle. I worked to earn the money. Then, instead of a bike, I received a lesson in power.

I grew up in a small house. We raised much of our food in a nearby plot, which was undoubtedly healthier than most store options. If I wanted money, I earned it. I wanted a bicycle, so I babysat and sold excess produce door-to-door.

When I joined a 4-H club, I learned that I could also earn money with entries in the 4-H fair. Money was based on points. There were more points for winning a blue ribbon (best) than a red (good) or white (fair).

Points also varied by category; sewing a dress earned more points than growing a flower. I checked through the categories and chose entries that I could make or grow.

Then I planned a campaign to win enough money to buy my bike.

I worked on my entries during the entire year. I practiced to make perfectly even stitches. I sewed a dress, skirt, robe, doll (my own pattern), and more. I tried new recipes and tweaked them. Then I baked and froze a dozen types of cookies. I improved my drawing skills. I collected tree samples, pressed leaves, and made a fancy tree identification book that included detailed pen-and-ink illustrations.

I grew flowers, pinching off side buds to get the biggest blooms. I learned more about composition and lighting, and then took photos. I got scrap wood to make a lamp. I completed all the paperwork to enter my items in the county fair.

I really, really wanted a bike.

I had thirty entries. After the judging, I had won more than twenty blue ribbons. I knew that ribbons were just a symbol, soon forgotten by everyone. I had learned useful skills to make these entries, which I’m sure was the intent.

But, what I really wanted was a bicycle, and now I had won enough money. I eagerly awaited my check.

An official envelope arrived with a check for much less money than I won. An official letter explained that there was a dollar limit. I felt betrayed. There was no written rule stating a limit. So, they changed the rules after the judging to deny me my prize. I wondered what they did with the money they saved by not paying these awards.

Apparently, the officials never expected one person to win so much. But they had no idea how much I wanted a bicycle.

I worked hard and followed the rules. Then the people with power changed the rules to suppress a person without power. This was a potent lesson in abuse of power.

I never forgot this lesson. It was not a tragedy. People suffer far worse every day.

But it wasn't fair. I was a child, and I couldn't change what happened. So I decided that, in time, I would be able to change what happened to others.

I found alternate routes to power, beyond age and wealth. I learned the power of the pen and well written letters.

I’ve written letters to city and state organizations, to Representatives and Senators. I’ve organized successful letter campaigns. I’ve helped change communities, cities, and even state facilities. There's no money in this, no fame, but it provides quiet satisfaction.

Any person can use the power of the pen. And we change the world every time we interact with another person or being, every time we recycle or pre-cycle.

Scree, a shape-shifter in The Dragon Dreamer, says, “What will be, will be. And then I’ll fix it.” She tells Arak, a dragon misfit, “Change is seldom easy. But the ripples from a single stone can cross the sea.”

And my bicycle? I kept working until I could afford one. Then I rode miles through the countryside, alone. I learned the wildflowers and birds along old, seldom used roads. I pedaled to other cities and back again. This was Freedom.

POSTS ON MAKING CHANGES:
Use the Illusion of Power: http://www.jennysburke.com/blog/make-a-difference-with-the-illusion-of-power
Planning for Change: http://www.jennysburke.com/blog/speak-up-you-could-save-many-lives

Thanks for visiting!

The Dragon Dreamer series is Science Fantasy Adventure for young adults 9 to 99.

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DREAMING IN THE SLUMS

12/12/2018

4 Comments

Once upon a time, while I was a grad student in Florida, I worked an odd mix of jobs. I sorted trays of sand with tweezers for a professor, a mindless task made better by the company of other sorters. I sold my art in local stores.

And I worked as the night desk/security person in the marine science building, near the end of a jetty. After locking up I walked out alone, beneath the stars, surrounded by the sea. Perfect.

I shared a cheap, run-down apartment with another student. It had no heating or air conditioning; living here felt a bit like camping out with solid walls and a roof over my head.

But the roof needed work. One night, during a hard rain, I woke as the ceiling fell in on top of me. I was drenched with stinky, filthy gray water and covered with old insulation.

This place was not perfect. Some might call it a slum. But comfort is relative; I met people who were homeless.

I left my old car unlocked at night, with blankets inside. People stayed in my car from time to time, especially when it was rainy or cold.
Sometimes a visitor left me a gift of an unsmoked cigarette. I don’t smoke, but it's the thought that counts.

I became friends with other tenants and realized that dreams are another kind of wealth. Some need help.

I was able to follow my dream and study marine science. Soon I could take a blank world map and, from memory, draw every major ocean current, even many minor ones. I better understood the connections between sea and sky, weather patterns and climate change.

Years later, the working title for my first novel became “Sea and Sky”, with connections between friends from
different worlds.

Everything I owned fit into my old car, except for the saltwater fish tank. I caught small fish and crabs for the tank, studied them, and returned them to the sea.

When I eventually moved away for my new job as a marine scientist, I gave this tank to a friend.

Vorm, one of my characters, is a wanderer of the sea. “We live free in the water. We are not burdened with things. Our experiences . . . our memories . . . all that
we truly own is in our mind."
~ "The Dragon Dreamer"

I was rich. I owned the gold and diamonds reflected off the sea, and the ruby sunsets. I owned the sound of the waves and the smell of the salty air.

All this is inside me, and sometimes in my Dragon Dreamer books.

“Arak lived with the taste of sea spray, the
rhythmic sound of waves, and the remarkable colors.
Afternoon waves shimmered like hammered gold in the
slanting sunlight.” ~ The Dragon Dreamer

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I Lost a Friend to Depression. Here's What I Learned.

11/30/2018

2 Comments

I lost a friend to depression.
Since then I’ve recognized depression in other friends. It’s been described as a deep, dark, lonely place.

I’ve read every paper I could find and hunted for helpful treatments for friends with depression. It's hard to lose a friend and hard for those who live with depression.

This is what I’ve learned:

**A hug or caring word can sometimes make a huge difference.

**https://www.nami.org/Find-Support/NAMI-Programs# is a program that may help.

**Visit your healthcare practitioner. If you benefit from a prescription, take it. The mind is part of the body. Get the help you need. You are worth it.

**L-Theanine is a natural tea extract that’s often very effective at relaxing people who are super stressed. Kal brand (online and in natural food stores) makes a 25 mg pill that dissolves in the mouth. Some take this each evening to help them sleep and also to cope with the following day. Many start with one 25 mg tablet and gradually increase to 75 mg or 100 mg taken each evening.

**St. John's Wort (herb) is available online and in health food stores. This is the #1 prescription by doctors in Europe for mild to moderate depression. It's sold online and in natural food stores.

**Zinc: Most people are deficient in Zinc. Taking 30 mg Zinc twice a day with food can make a big difference. Zinc also boosts the immune system (very useful in flu season) and helps the body make hormones.

**Taking B Vitamins can make a huge difference.

**Sunshine and Vitamin D3 (take with Vitamin K2) are helpful. Again, most people are deficient in this. Vitacost.com has a low-cost company brand that includes both in the correct ratio as melt tablets.

**Iodine helps the thyroid which helps with depression. Most people are deficient in Iodine. This also helps strengthen the immune system.

**DEPRESSION IS REAL. A suicide attempt may seem selfish. How can they do this to their friends and family? But they may truly believe that everyone will be better off without them. Or they just can't face another day. Depression may hurt so much that it's physically painful. The pain can be so deep it's hard to escape or even imagine it will ever get better.

I try to listen deeply, to hear what is not said, to be aware when a friend is in trouble. They probably won't tell us. It's our place to be aware and reach out.

My character Scree says, "What will be, will be. And then I'll fix it."
People who suffer from depression may need help immediately.

More phone numbers for help:
Suicide Prevention Hotline: 800-273-8255
Veterans Suicide Hotline: 800-273-8255
Domestic Violence Hotline: 800-799-7233

Wishing you all a safe, happy holiday season!
May your dreams come true.

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<<Previous

BLACK LIGHTNING and DRAGON SWORDS

Creating WINTER'S CHILD

ARMY BOOTS AND REBEL LOOPHOLES

OCTOPUSES: Brainy beings who run like cats

Essential Workers in an Uncivil World

Everything Is Connected

DELIVER A SMILE INTO THE WORLD

I Wanted A Bicycle: A Lesson In Power.

DREAMING IN THE SLUMS

I Lost a Friend to Depression. Here's What I Learned.

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