Tag Archives: short stories

A Romantic Novella

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Book Blurb:

Ella has hit rock bottom. The only thing on her mind is getting home, but her car breaks down five hours away from her destination. She finds herself stuck in the unfamiliar town of Paradise Falls.

Instead of spending hours waiting on car repairs, Ella meets a local who invites her to help with the town’s Harvest Festival. Thanks to the kindness of a stranger, she’s able to find joy in her favorite time of the year.

The few hours for car repairs quickly turn into an overnight visit, as Ella continues to enjoy the festivities. Her fondness of the town grows with each passing day, forcing Ella to make a difficult decision. Should she follow her heart or continue the plan she’s always had for her life?

My Review:

Rating: ★★★★★

Elle is a young journalist who finds herself stranded in a small town just shy of her intended destination. This begins a tug-of-war of sorts for Ella. Her life’s plans begin to lose ground to her growing fondness for Paradise Falls, North Carolina, and the people she meets there. Big city life versus small town hospitality. Which will win out?

The author tells her story with a folksy narration that feels warm and familiar. It embodies family, friendship, and a neighborly ideal that seems to be slipping from our world.

This is the second story I’ve read from Marlena Smith. Her skills as a writer have grown from the first story to this one. I would love to see her build on to this story with these characters. This is a wonderful introduction to an idyllic creation. If you’re a fan of the works of Janette Oke, this story is worth a read.

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About the Author:

Marlena Smith was born in a small town of Alabama, where she continues to live today. When she’s not working at the office, she can be found writing, reading, or blogging. Writing has always been a major part of her life, even since grade school, when she was selected to attend the Young Authors’ Conference in her state.

Although her writing has been public through her blog for several years, she has only recently begun publishing. She has several works in progress including a romance novel, a young adult novella, and several short thrillers.

Where to Buy:

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An Impressive Debut

Rating: ★★★★★

The Blurb

9781947893252_Ebook Cover, Crimes, Lippert 800wideLippert was thrown into the bowels of the Michigan Department of Corrections as a seventeen-year-old adolescent. He remained entrenched in a world of malfeasance for the next forty years. With astonishing honesty, he reveals the raw details of what a life of incarceration looks like from the inside. His observations of human behavior and his stellar ability to tell a story reveal the courage and resilience of a man who has survived horrifying and savage injustice. These are stories of miscreants and corrupt institutions. They are tales of men who have made poor choices and suffered grave consequences.

His tales of the criminal counterculture are sometimes tragic, but often humorous and redemptive. Through it all, he displays a sly sense of humor and the quiet wisdom of a man who is, ultimately, a survivor. Lippert’s journey has been one of an unrequited longing for freedom. This book is a resonant journey through the geography of a resilient soul.

My Review

Phil Lippert is a man who has lived a most unconventional life. Thrown into prison at the age of seventeen, Lippert, who served a forty-year stretch, has viewed the world from a position most people only know from fictionalized Hollywood treatments.

His collection of short stories offers readers a glimpse inside that world. Though mostly fiction, these tales contain a thread of truth concerning human nature. Lippert’s style is laidback and easygoing. He knows how to tell a story that holds the reader spellbound, waiting for something like redemption for these characters that might otherwise seem unworthy.

He narrates as Dude, an inmate who collects stories of life as lived by others. Some are humorous and hopeful. Others fall into a darker place where hope falters before it has a chance to find its own legs.

My favorite is the heartbreaking “Good Night, Ruby Slippers” with its darker shades mingled with streaks of light. “A Canticle for Frank” reads like a cold-war thriller mixed with prison intrigue. “My Summer Vacation” tells the story of a young bank robber. Each piece introduces unforgettable characters that often seem both familiar and other-worldly.

This is a solid collection from a promising writer with plenty to say. It’s one I’ll likely return to from time to time.

Author Interview on the Voice of Indie Podcast

Buy it Now!

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Remaining Ruth: A Short Story

This is a short I wrote back in 2013. It’s about a girl trying to hold tight her grasp on self-identity. This one appears in my first short story collection Slivers of Life.

Remaining Ruth

I heard my mother say, “It could be she’s just that kind of girl.”

I knew she meant me because my father responded, “No daughter of mine will be that kind of girl.”

I’m an only child, so forget any misunderstandings. Besides, just what kind of girl were they debating me to be?

I slipped through the back door, just inside the kitchen, crouched low near the refrigerator, and listened to their talk in the next room. I’m either a lesbian or a drug addict, depending on their deciphering of my mood on any given day.

Okay. True. I do keep my hair cut short and dyed black. I also prefer jeans and T-shirts to dresses and skirts. But that doesn’t make me a lesbian. Of course, there is that other thing…

My father said, “Maybe we should send her to one of those Catholic schools.”

“We’re not Catholic, Fred,” my mother reminded him.

“But they know how to deal with these sorts of things, Miriam.”

What sorts of things? I wondered, angling for a closer peek into the living room. I didn’t need to see, though. My father would be parked in his recliner, newspaper open and held in front of him. My mother, she’d be seated on the sofa, watching the television with the sound turned all the way down.

I’d never get past them. At least not without a hundred questions tossed in my face.

“Maybe we should just leave her be,” my mother offered. “I had my own moody moments at that age.”

A low harrumph, is all my father managed.

As much as I hated the idea of confrontation, I despised even more the notion of hiding out in the kitchen all night.

He’s the one who caught me, came right up out of his recliner as soon as I entered the room. “Let’s see what’s in your pockets, young lady.”

I knew the drill. They’d been doing this since the end of the school year, when I’d been stupid enough to leave a joint in my jacket, where my nosy mother happened upon it.

“I’m not carrying,” I told my father. “I smoked it before I came in.”

“So disrespectful,” my mother lamented. “I never sassed my parents when I was fourteen.”

“Gonna let them nuns straighten you out,” my father threatened, searching the pockets of my jean jacket.

He found nothing incriminating. I’d learned to never carry anything on me—at least not where they’d bother to look.

“Can I go to my room now?” I asked, not really looking for that argument my parents seemed to enjoy so much.

My father gave up a subtle nod I’d have missed if I hadn’t been looking for it.

They took my phone—and my bedroom door.

But I still had the bathroom.

I closed myself inside, pressed the lock. They’d come knocking in a while, demanding to know what all goes on when they can’t see.

They’ll never see what they don’t really want to see, though.

Muffled voices trickled through the floorboards, putting them still in the living room.

My mother’s the one who caught me kissing Megan Vennerhull. That’s where the whole lesbian thing came from. But we were just practicing. Megan pretended I was David Skillsky and I, well, I too imagined Megan was really David Skillsky—I just told her I’d been dreaming of Michael Kranshaw to keep her from freaking out. Megan has been in love with David since the third grade. But so have I.

Can’t tell that to Megan, though.

My fingers worked at the buttons on my jeans; I tugged them off my hips.

My father never used those multi-bladed razors. “One blade is all it takes,” he’d tell the television, whenever one of those commercials touting three blades came on.

I agree. One blade is all it takes.

I twisted the razor’s handle, retrieved the shiny blade from its open mouth.

It’s not a suicide attempt. I’ve never wanted to die. It’s just something I need, something I dream about when moments of stress find in me an easy target.

And I never cut too deep, either; just enough for bleeding.

Just enough for a taste of pain.

They never look at my hips—or my inner thighs. Nobody looks there. Nobody sees or knows.

My mother’s voice disrupted my moment of pleasure. “Are you going to be long in there, honey?”

“Be out in a minute,” I assured her, knowing full-well my father would be beside her in short order, threatening to remove even the bathroom door.

A quick cut just beneath my stomach let go that crimson release.

Better than an orgasm, this.

My father intruded; his meaty fists banged against the door. “I’ll break this son of a bitch down, Ruthie, you don’t open this door!”

“Can I wash my hands first?” I asked, rinsing the blade before returning it to its proper place of honor.

They weren’t quick enough—not this time, at least. I still owned one secret belonging only to me.

One more day I could still be the Ruth I wanted to be.

© 2013 Beem Weeks

This story, along with 19 others, is available in Slivers of Life: A Collection of Short Stories. Find it at all online booksellers.

When We Were Kids: A Short Story

This is a short story I wrote some years ago. It’s about life and loss and the guilt of being the one who survives a tragic accident. It appears in my short story collection Strange HWY: Short Stories

When We Were Kids

I saw you again today. You were younger than the last time I set eyes on you. It happens that way sometimes. You were mowing the lawn in front of some house I didn’t recognize. I doubt you did either.

It’s the third time in a month that I’ve seen you cutting grass or jogging or playing in that park we hung out at when we were kids. You were always on the baseball diamond—even now. I suppose it has something to do with the uniforms. The colors are always different, but the style hasn’t changed in thirty-odd years.

Dana Rickleman still talks about you whenever I run into her at the Winn-Dixie. Well, she’s not Dana Rickleman these days. Neither is she hot anymore. She married Donnie Soba fifteen years or so ago, had a kid, put on more than a few pounds, and ended up deciding she’s a lesbian. But maybe we already knew that way back when. Remember how she used to say Becky Fordham was enough to turn her?

Speaking of Becky, her younger brother Todd is gone. He went to Iraq during the Gulf War and never came back. He stepped on the wrong spot and left nothing behind but his dog tags. Becky turned into a boozehound after that one. Last I heard she’d been in and out of Burnside Psychiatric Hospital.

The old neighborhood has completely changed. You wouldn’t recognize it now. All those families we knew back then no longer live there. Kids grew up and went off to college, got married, chased careers out of state. Parents became grandparents, got old, retired, moved to Florida, and died. I drove through there a few months ago. Not a familiar face among those I saw. Our old house is long gone. The family that bought it from Mom and Dad, after I moved out, lost it to fire. They rebuilt on the lot, but the house looks nothing like the original. And there are trees where there weren’t any before. Crazy how that works, huh?

I’m sorry if it sounds like I’m rambling. I don’t mean to. I’ve had a lot on my mind since, well, you know. I still struggle with things, Adam. It’s always there in the front part of my mind, where it often blocks out my view of the world around me. I think that’s why Mallory and I got a divorce. She saw those issues, tried to help me, but in the end, she just had to let it all go. It’s not her fault. Even Mom says she’s surprised Mallory didn’t leave me a lot sooner—and you know how Mom was always my biggest cheerleader.

I won’t lie to you. I’ve thought about it more times than I dare count. It’s usually when I’m driving alone, just as the sun dips below the horizon, taking the sky from pink to orange to purple, and that day smacks me in the face all over again, the pain growing only stronger with the passing of time. The way I’d do it, I’d aim my car at some far away tree, mash the gas pedal to the floor, race toward it, and be done. But then I’d hear your annoying voice calling me a selfish little prick—the way you always did when we were kids.

When we were kids. . .

There’s so much hurt wrapped around those four simple words.

When we were kids, we dreamed of playing Major League Baseball for the Atlanta Braves.

When we were kids, the only thing important to us was being able to stay outside for an hour or two after the streetlights came on.

When we were kids, we went everywhere on our bikes—and we never got tired of it.

Speaking of bikes, do you remember that time we decided we were going to be train for the Tour de France? We spent that entire summer riding all over hell’s half acre, thinking that’s all it took to win that stupid race. In your version, you and I would finish in first and second place. Of course, our versions differed as to which finished where. In my head, I was always the victor. And the prize money, well, that was spent a thousand different ways. Always on something foolish or needless—it would always be squandered on selfish desires. Mom would rein us in by taking charge of our fabled earnings. Into the bank, it would have to go. After all, we had college to think about.

I worry about Mom since Dad died. It’s not that I doubt her ability to carry on and live a productive life; she’s done that well enough in the three years since. It’s that profound sadness that envelops her when a birthday or anniversary or an old TV show worm their way into her cocoon, threatening to pull her out before she’s good and ready to deal with life as a changed species. She went out to dinner with Mr. Griffith from the church once—but that felt too much like adultery, essentially killing any notion of date number two. I just don’t want her to be miserable. It’s just her and me now, from our nuclear family. You always hated that term. You used to say it made you think that families could explode, taking entire cities with them. There’d be a mushroom cloud over our town—and it would mostly be Dad.

I miss his yelling about this and that.

Okay. So here’s the thing: I’ve never told anybody about that day. I never even told Mallory—and I told her a ton of major important things. I just can’t seem to make myself speak those words out loud. But I have to. It’s wrecking me, brother.

It was an accident. I swear on it.

I’m the one who locked you in the shed that day.

The day you died.

I did it. It was supposed to be a joke—a prank. I padlocked the door, expecting you to pitch a fit at being locked in. I’d leave you in there for a few minutes, before letting you out. Then you’d sock me in the shoulder and we’d have a laugh about it. But Donnie Soba showed up with a pocketful of firecrackers. I didn’t mean to leave you in the shed. I meant to unlock the door. I got sidetracked.

I didn’t know it could get so hot inside there.

I swear on it, Adam.

It was Dad who found you. He’d called the police after you failed to come inside once the street lights came on. He stomped around the living room, threatening to ground you for a hundred years, every so often yelling your name out into the night. Once Johnny Carson came on, the police were called. They drove the neighborhood, spotlights trained in the dark corners, searching for a wayward boy. I don’t know what it was that made Dad go out to the shed. It didn’t occur to me until he grabbed the key for the lock.

“I killed you, Adam.” There. I said it out loud.

It doesn’t make it easier.

I’m not just a killer. I’m the guy who killed his own brother.

I need to hear your voice, Adam. I need to know your thoughts on my transgression. Where are you? What do you see? What do you know? Have you been watching these thirty-odd years? Is everything I tell you already known?

Have you seen God?

Does He hate me?

Sometimes it’s like coming down with a cold. My body aches, my head throbs, and I can’t bring myself to get out of bed. It’s as if joy ceased to exist when you left. But I know that’s not true. Other people still experience joy and happiness and laughter. I’ve heard it. I’ve seen it with my own two eyes. I’ve just never grabbed hold of it for myself—no matter how hard I try.

There really is no need for you to worry. Notions of wrapping my car around a tree are greatly exaggerated. I can’t do that to Mom. Neither can I put myself in front of God before my proper ending. For all I know, I’ll have to continue on well past the century mark, carrying the years as a burden.

Can you put in a word for me—the way you did when we were kids?

But would a simple word really count for anything?

I’m the reason you died, Adam.

Please forgive me.

Please.

Maybe it’s desperation that has me hearing your voice.

“Let it go, twerp.”

It comes audibly to me, as if you’re standing right beside me, speaking it directly into my ear.

My left ear.

“Is that you, Adam?” I ask it aloud, hoping for more.

But there’s nothing else.

“Tell me again—just once more.”

I think of Mom. Of telling her. Of unburdening my soul.

I won’t, though. I cannot.

It’s you I needed to tell.

It was always you.

And tonight, you heard me.

Of that, I am certain.

My burden isn’t gone just yet, but it sure feels lighter.

“Thank you, Adam.”

© 2018 Beem Weeks

This story, along with 18 others, is available in Strange HWY: Short Stories. Find it at all online booksellers.

Crackles of the Heart: Divergent Ink Book 1! A #BookReview

Blurb:

Divergent Ink is the mesh of different frames of thoughts, various interpretations of one core question that yearns for universal expansion. Although the subject matter may change every year, the purpose of the Divergent Ink series will remain the same.

The first book in the Divergent Ink anthology series, “Crackles of the Heart”, centers around the following question: Can the hot, handsome guy fall for the average, awkward woman?

Six Divergent Inks exploring “Crackles of the Heart”. Will there be hearts rejoicing or hearts breaking?

Featuring

Da’Kharta Rising: A five word invitation sets the tone for an afternoon journey. Short, provocative connectivity sizzles “Inside Me”.

Queen of Spades: One look from Her was all it took to put a ladies’ man into early retirement. Yet, the very object of his affection has no clue of his reform. When he opts to take a huge gamble, will his fairy tale end happily ever after or be deemed a “Tale in the Keys of Drastic”?

Adonis Mann: The dark of night can be more than scary, it can be downright intoxicating. When pleasure meets stupefaction, a man with a secret whirls into rapture at the hands of an unknown force. To which end? Will his secret be revealed, or will he revel in the delight it brings? Nothing is as it seems during the wonderment of “Mystical Nights”.

Y. Correa: Steampunk Earth, set in the distant future. When an ambitious city guy meets a carefree country lady, what starts out as a getaway to finish an important project turns into a interesting journey. Steam intersects and hearts collide in “The Steam of Opposites”.

C. Desert Rose: Terah has the misfortune of being given news that puts an expiration date on her life. In her desire to get away from the chaos, she has a chance encounter with the very one that can put the turmoil to rest. Is “Serendipitous Mirth” dumb luck, or preordained destiny?

Synful Desire: Bette is a hard working small town woman with simple pleasures. When visually stunning Jesse comes into the store on what’s normally her day off, her mind accelerates into complex overdrive. In this small town, a lot can happen in seven days. Will one of those events serve to satisfy Bette’s “Seven Days of Stimuli”?

 

My Review:

Rating: ★★★★★

This collection contains some truly intriguing works by authors who are skilled in the fine art of storytelling. Six writers lent their talents here. They have each taken a core question and answered it in their own unique words.

Though there are different styles at work, there remains a thread that connects each of the tales in this book, like a well-groomed path cutting through a summer wood. I’ve read some of these authors before. I am never disappointed in plots or mechanics or inspiration. Good writers know how to pull the reader in and dazzle.

The stories are provocative, dark, and at times, steamy in their telling—though not in an over-indulgent sort of way. There is an order to the chaos. I honestly couldn’t settle on just one or two as favorites, so I’ll give applause to each of these writers: Da’Kharta Rising, Y. Correa, Adonis Mann, Queen of Spades, C. Desert Rose, and Synful Desire. Cheers for a job well-done, authors!

I am a fan of the short form of fiction. This collection will sit on my shelf along with the others I’ve kept and returned to time after time.

Buy it Here:

Day 10 of the Concordant Vibrancy 5 Book Tour: Release Day!

Welcome to Day 10 of the Concordant Vibrancy 5 book tour! Today is Release Day!!!

 

Greetings everyone!

Before we proceed with the official cover reveal and book release of Concordant Vibrancy 5: Extancy, All Authors Publishing House would like to thank our supporters and all of the outstanding authors who have participated in the Concordant Vibrancy collection. The thoughtfulness and creativity put forth on each theme question will mark Concordant Vibrancy’s place as literature that will transcend time.

For information on all things Concordant Vibrancy, please peruse its website: https://www.concordantvibrancy.com

 

 

With a proud and heavy heart, All Authors Publishing House presents the final installment of the Concordant Vibrancy collection, entitled “Extancy”.
Eight exceptional talents intermingle to share their interpretations on the following question: “What intangible elixir is paramount to one’s survival?”
  • C. Desert Rose expands on the elixir of Awareness in her essay “Frequencies Towards Illumination”.
  • Carol Cassada outlines the amount of Strength to tackle the medically unexpected in “Caregiver”.
  • Beem Weeks explores the swiftness of Adaptation in his story “Five Minutes”.
  • Da’Kharta Rising elicits dark humor and strange situations as the ingredients for Felicity in “The Unmasking”.
  • Adonis Mann illuminates the subjectivity of Unity in “Axis … Redefined”.
  • All Optimism needs is a window of opportunity to flourish, as demonstrated in Synful Desire’s tale, “Rome’s Debris”.
  • Evolution is an intangible necessity through the many reincarnations showcased in “The Itinerant” by Queen of Spades.
  • The synergy of the aforementioned elements from Concordant Vibrancy I – IV are given lives of their own through “Soul Searching” by Y. Correa.

 

 

 

 

Day 9 of the Concordant Vibrancy 5 Book Tour: Y. Correa!

Welcome to Day 9 of the Concordant Vibrancy 5 book tour. Today we are introducing author and publisher Y. Correa. . .

Coming full circle … that was the most predominant feeling I got from the completion of “Concordant Vibrancy 5: Extancy.”

 

I feel like I have so much to say but I am finding it difficult to express.

The “Concordant Vibrancy” project was, in retrospect, executed with expediency. At the time it was being created things felt eternal, now that we’ve come to the end of the road, the time invested feels minute.

I am certain of one thing, however, the shelflife of this collection will be perpetual. The words encrypted within its pages, historic.

This is something that could not have been done without the participants. It was their skills, their wordsmithing, that led to the footprints made by Concordant Vibrancy.

I will never, ever, forget how much this project meant to me.

Now to answer some questions.

What prompted you to be a part of the Concordant Vibrancy concept? Which Concordant Vibrancy books are you featured in? Why did you choose a certain attribute as your answer to CV5’s theme question?

I was prompted to be part of the project because I was one half of the creation therein. I know it’s a short answer. I’m sorry but there isn’t much more I can add. LOL

I participated in all five books. My stories are as follows:

  • Unity: Alma’s Unsung Angel
  • Vitality: Genomegenics
  • Lustrate: Twin Planets
  • Inferno: Moxy
  • And now, Extancy: Soul Searching

For each installment I attempted to utilize a theme word that would bring together the concept of the elements. In the very last installment, I wanted to,as I stated at the beginning, “come full circle”.

It was important for me to tie together the fabric of Concordant Vibrancy by showing the world how each element works in tangent. The elements are synergistic; the function together or not at all. Such is the entire collection.

With that said, I truly hope you love the Concordant Vibrancy Collection as much as we do.

Here is a tiny excerpt of my story, “Soul Searching”.

 

 

 

 

Day 5 of the Concordant Vibrancy 5 Book Tour: Da’Kharta Rising!

Welcome to Day 5 of the Concordant Vibrancy 5 blog tour. Today we introduce author Da’Kharta Rising. . .

What’s happening everyone? The Slightly Antisocial Socialite, also known as Da’Kharta Rising, here to talk about all things associated with Concordant Vibrancy.

What prompted you to be a part of the Concordant Vibrancy concept?

No lie. At first, it was all about the exposure. When I made my writing debut, I didn’t have too much under my belt, apart from a couple of free independent short stories: “Vocal Remedy” and “Simi’s Komma” (which later became extended into S.K.A.R.). Also, I was one-third of “The Collective”, so there were those three stories.

Other than that, nada.

As time went on, I became more invested in the theme questions and really traveled the extra mile to put my “best pen forward”, especially in “Inferno” and the newest one “Extancy”.

Which Concordant Vibrancy books are you featured in?

Originally, I was only featured in Books 1, 3, 4, and this latest one. Yet, when All Authors reemerged with guns blazing, one of the projects they wanted to update were the previous releases of Concordant Vibrancy. At that point, I became part of Book 2’s relaunch, delving into new territory, writing an essay.

Why did you choose a certain attribute as your answer to CV5’s theme question?

I know … I know! It seems strange that someone whose main genres have to deal with drama and horror would land on “Felicity” as the answer to CV5’s theme question.

This time around, I wanted to show the readers a different side of me. One who has a sense of humor, albeit dark and sarcastic.

In “The Unmasking”, one may pick up parallels as it relates to the pandemic, but I put on my love for movie butter popcorn that all is fictional. Also, “The Unmasking” was written many months before any scientific advancements were reached.

I could have gone with a few excerpts which I found funny, but some of those would not be PG Book Tour friendly. Therefore, my publisher has selected one a bit more fitting with the cadence of the tour.

Okay … I think I’ve said all that has been required.

Now, for the supplemental aka “Braggadocios Bits”:

About The Author

Although Da’Kharta Rising prides herself as the Slightly Anti-Social Socialite, or SASS, there is nothing non-engaging about the biology of what she writes. Her philosophy is somewhat of a throwback: systematically creating an air of mystery, intrigue and drama designed to keep the reader not only hooked but using one’s imagination to follow a rich plot from beginning to end.

In short, Da’Kharta Rising embodies the Incandescence of a Cryptic Enigma.

Her body of work is composed of independently released works Vocal Remedy, S.K.A.R., Boundless Limits (Transcendent Choice, Book 1), and Apocawhat?. Her stories “Unrest” “Omitted”, and “The Kutters” appear in the Continuous Drips anthology. In addition, she has stories featured in the Divergent Ink collection: “Inside Me” and “Masato’s Zion”, respectively.

Future projects include participation in the next Divergent Ink books (“Cynosure” and “Synergism”) as well as the When Karma Speaks series.

For more information about Da’Kharta Rising, check out her websiteAmazon Author Page, or Twitter @dakhartarising.

Day 4 of the Concordant Vibrancy 4 Book Tour: Beem Weeks!

Today is Day 5 of the Concordant Vibrancy 5 book tour. I am hosting me, myself, and I today. . . It’s always a party when those three show up! 

(1) What prompted you to be a part of the Concordant Vibrancy concept?

The thing that prompted me to participate in the Concordant Vibrancy concept was an invitation to do so. That’s the sort of proposal one just doesn’t turn down. To be asked to contribute to such a wonderful project is a high honor. Having my name and my work published alongside this group of skilled writers is an incredibly humbling experience. There’s also a challenge involved: Here’s a theme, now write a short story that encompasses this theme and brings it to life. Challenge accepted!

 

(2) Which Concordant Vibrancy books are you featured in?

I have been blessed to be part of four of the five anthologies. These include CV 2: Vitality, CV 3: Lustrate, CV 4: Inferno, and this latest edition, CV 5: Extancy. Each volume poses a theme and a question for the author to ponder while crafting a story around that theme.

(3) Why did you choose a certain attribute as your answer to CV5’s theme question?

I chose the attribute of adaptation to answer the theme question—What intangible elixir is paramount to one’s survival?—because those who learn to adapt will be those who survive. And survival doesn’t always equal success or a happy ending. Life isn’t outlined for us. It doesn’t fit into the pages of a well-crafted novel. Humans are often presented with unforeseen events that change our world, ruin our plans, and re-write the roadmap we’ve plotted for ourselves. These various themes postured in each of the Concordant Vibrancy editions speak to the human soul and to the human struggle for life. To adapt is to survive.

About the Author

Beem Weeks is an author, editor, blogger, podcast host, and audio/video producer. He has written many short stories, essays, poems, and the historical fiction/coming of age novel entitled Jazz Baby. Beem has also released Slivers of Life: A Collection of Short Stories and Strange Hwy: Short Stories, as well as the novella The Thing About Kevin. He is a lifelong native of Michigan, USA. Beem is currently working on two novels and several short stories.

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AMAZON AUTHOR PAGE

Day 3 of the Concordant Vibrancy 5 Book Tour: Carol Cassada!

Welcome to Day 3 of the Concordant Vibrancy 5 book tour. Today we are introducing author Carol Cassada. . .

  1. This is the third time I’ve participated in the Concordant Vibrancy series. I’ve known Yasmin, Monica, and the All Authors family for a while.

When they invited me to be part of volume 3 of the anthology, I jumped at the chance. I loved the first two volumes, and to me, the concept of Concordant Vibrancy was unique. 

Participating in the anthology challenged my mind. I delved into my philosophical side as I contemplated the theme’s question. Then I had to create a story centered around my answer. 

It was a fun experience, and Concordant Vibrancy helped break me out of my writing comfort zone. I was able to see what else I could create instead of my usual genre.

 

 

  1. I’ve been featured in Lustrate, Inferno, and now the last volume Extancy.

It’s been a pleasure to work alongside this wonderful group of authors who I admire. I’m sad to see the Concordant Vibrancy series come to an end, but I hope I’ll be able to continue working with All Authors in the future.

  1. I choose strength as my answer to the theme’s question, and when I say strength I mean emotional strength.

My CV5 story is inspired by my own life. Alzheimer’s runs in my family. My paternal grandmother had it, and my aunt was her caretaker. It was heartbreaking watching my grandmother’s mind slipping, and although my aunt never showed it, I knew it was tough on her.

Now, several years later, I’m in the same situation.

My mother was diagnosed with dementia about two years ago. At first, I didn’t want to believe it, but after confirmation from the doctor, I had to face the sad truth. I also stepped up and became my mother’s caretaker.

Being a caretaker isn’t easy. Aside from the physical stress, it can also exhaust you mentally. Seeing the person you love have their memories and their personality taken away is difficult. I’ve had moments where I broke down, wondering why my mother has to go through this, and worrying about the future.

As I explain to everyone, there are good days and bad days. Although there are challenging times, I manage to pull myself together to be the best daughter and caretaker I can be.

Author Links:

Blog: https://carolcassada.wordpress.com/

Twitter: https://twitter.com/dramacjc

Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/Carol-Cassada/e/B00520F3ZU?ref=sr_ntt_srch_lnk_2&qid=1609261323&sr=8-2