For some reason I can’t reblog from my mobile anymore.
However, that’s not why you’re here…
Do be sure to check out my latest article on The Story Reading Ape Blog at the link below. We are covering some basic history on The Harlem Renaissance movement, to include what no one talks about.
Click through to the original post at the link below.
Don’t forget to pick up your copy of Renaissance and if you’ve read it, and you’re so obliged to do so, I’d be honored if you could leave an honest review!
Byron brushed the lint from his uniform as he approached the home of his last client of the day. Walking up the steps he noticed the beautiful brick home in the well-groomed neighborhood. Must be HOA, he thought. Homeowners Associations had these rich white neighborhoods looking like no one lived in the houses and whoever lived in them certainly had no children. The grass is always a vibrant green and cuts in perfect lines, there is no trash on the sidewalks and although he saw dogs and cats, even their poop wasn’t visible. Damn. Byron knocked on the door and looked down at his paperwork.
“Yes?”
The door swung open and a woman smiled back at him.
“Good afternoon ma’am my name…”
Byron paused, mesmerized. The woman’s skin was dark chocolate, her hair so silky black it looked fake, her lips thick and plush with a coat of the reddest lipstick he’d ever seen, and she wore those childbearing hips well. But none of that had anything on her eyes. The woman had the most beautiful blue eyes he’d ever seen. Strange against such cocoa butter skin. They had to be a contact lens. He could look right through them. He cleared his throat. A woman had never had him so caught off guard.
“My name is Byron Fisher with Guaranteed Insurance Co. We have you listed here as requesting a return visit.” Byron held up a hand. “I know. I’m not the guy from last time but you were on my route, so I thought I’d stop by and see which plan might interest you,” he smiled.
“Oh yes,” said the woman, her voice soft and delicate.
Damn, thought Byron, his manhood growing. He’d better get it together quick. The Khaki pants he wore today wouldn’t do much to hide the excitement. He cursed himself for not deciding on jeans.
She could hear his thoughts and smiled despite herself. She could see in more than one direction as she read Byron’s energy. Her eyes were cameras quickly processing the environment. They zoomed in on the car coming up the street, the lady walking her dog on the corner and the mailman who was late again. Even the candy wrapper in the cracks of the concrete. If she concentrated harder, she could make out the image of the child who left it there while waiting for the school bus to arrive.
Byron’s biography flashed against the screens that were her eyes. It told her he was single with no children and plenty of money to spend. He was also an orphan as a child and moved around a lot before enlisting in the military. After the army, Byron got into the Insurance business. Life never looked better. Well, almost never. The woman smiled. She saw his weakness too, his hurt.
He was in love once. Some detective woman he couldn’t have because she dated his friend. The woman’s eyes flashed. She was digging. The chief warned of digging. It required the use of too much energy, but she had to know. So, she dug, and her eyes were claws that pierced his skin for secrets. It was safe. At least now. He couldn’t feel anything. At least not yet.
Byron wiped at his brow, frowning at the sudden wave of heat on his face.
The woman smiled, the flashing red dots on the screen of her eyes signaling the passion emanating from the man in front of her. He wanted her. This would be easy. She stopped digging before he fainted in broad daylight. The chief wouldn’t have that again.
“So very nice to meet you,” said the woman. “I am sure we can find something that I like. Please, come in.”
Byron smiled as he walked into the home of the beautiful blue-eyed woman. He couldn’t believe his luck. Some women were easy. Maybe he’ll get her to sign off on more than just papers. He smiled and her blue eyes flashed, a smirk on her face as she closed the door behind him.
Another Episode of The PBS Blog Podcast has been uploaded. Today we are talking the importance of extending love to people without an agenda. The inspiration came from a quote to which I don’t know the author but it goes: “People grow when they are loved well. If you want to help people to heal, then love them without an agenda.”
Check it out below and be sure to subscribe for episode updates (as I have no set schedule for this. While I’ll update this blog at the notice of new episodes, you may want to subscribe just to be sure you don’t miss any).
What a pleasant surprise. Just found out this blog is listed on Reedsy’s Best Book Review Blogs of 2017. Neat. ☺
Important:
If you would like me to consider reviewing your book, please register your book through my Book Review Registry HERE. I do not accept unsolicited submissions.
(I always use a disclaimer at the front end of any review to books in which I have not bought / given as gifts. Bought books that show as reviewed on this blog, of course, does not have the disclaimer and does not count toward the ‘unsolicited submission’. I know, this is obvious information but you never know.)
Failure to register will automatically disqualify you from consideration. You must register your book if you want me to consider reviewing it. Emailing me your book does not count.
“It’s not just because she reviewed my novelette, All Good Stories, and gave it 5 stars, I’m writing about her because she gives great (and helpful) reviews. In a market, so full, it’s hard to choose what to read, isn’t it? We really need reviews these days that go beyond the minimalistic, “I liked it,” to know what we’re investing our money in. Because money doesn’t grow on trees. Neither do books anymore, for that matter.”
(To support the authors featured on this blog (or those who have been featured in my email), go to my Indie Author page here. All reviewed books are listed there. Introduce Yourself Interview Authors will be listed soon.)
I am honored to introduce to you our Grand Prize Winner of my first poetry contest!
First, a special thank you to Colleen and Lisa for helping me to put this together. With my schedule, I could not have done it without you two! Family, please go ahead and follow their blogs. You WON’T be disappointed!
Next, I would like to thank everyone who entered as well as those of you who shared this contest. It is not easy to “stand” up here and do something like this so thank you for your support.
Drumm Rollll…
Congratulations to Merril D. Smith for her poem “Zora Neale Hurston.”
Not only did it touch on our theme, but it embodied so much of Zora that I felt like if I didn’t know who she was before, I did now. Here’s what Colleen had to say:
“The author captured the essence of Zora and her strength to fight for the rights of African American women as if she was able to channel her bright spirit through the written word. Splendid imagery and descriptions. When I close my eyes, I can see Zora in all her glory!”
My favorite lines are:
“…her soul crawls out
from its hiding place
time and distance cannot shrink
her words…” – Colleen Chesebro
Whoop! Merril, here’s what you’ve won!
Amazon Giftcard
Letters to a Young Poet by Rainer Maria Rilke (hardcover)
From When I was a Black Girl by Yecheilyah Ysrayl (paperback)
And Still, I Rise by Maya Angelou (paperback)
Your Poem on this Blog
Social Media Support
Please tell us a little bit about yourself:
Author Photo: Merril D. Smith.
MDS: Thank you so much, Yecheilyah Ysrayl, Colleen Chesebro, and Lisa W. Tetting! I am honored to have been selected as the Grand Prize Winner for this poetry contest.
My name is Merril D. Smith. I live in National Park, NJ, which is a small borough right across the Delaware River from Philadelphia. I’m an independent scholar with a Ph.D. in American history, but my blog is mostly a poetry blog. Poetry is my creative outlet, though it is something I’ve come to only within the past few years. Perhaps I needed some life experience and time to reflect, but now my muse says, “write poetry.”
Do you have any poetry collections out Merril?
MDS: I don’t have a poetry book out yet, but it’s coming! I’m currently finishing up two reference books on rape. My other books are available on Amazon and other sites.
Before we get to your poem, please tell us a little bit about it. What inspired this piece?
MDS: The theme of the poetry contest was the Harlem Renaissance. I chose to write about Zora Neale Hurston because I think she was a brilliant and fascinating woman. She lied about her age (saying she was younger than she was) so that she could finish high school. Then she went on to study anthropology with Franz Boas, and she chose to do fieldwork on Afro-American folklore. She was said to have made an entrance when she entered a party, and in the photos, I’ve seen of her, she’s often wearing a hat. She definitely had a way with words, so I used some of her lines within the poem. Though she won some acclaim in her life, she did not earn wealth, and she died in poverty. Alice Walker is credited with “rediscovering” Hurston and paid to have a grave stone placed on Hurston’s unmarked grave.
Once again Merril, thanks so much for participating in our contest and sharing your heart with us. Without further ado, everyone we give you:
This poetry contest is sponsored by Yecheilyah of Literary Korner Publishing and the release of Renaissance: The Nora White Story (Book One). Pick up your copy of Renaissance today. Click here.
The PBS Blog 