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Authors That Inspire Me - Part 2

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  Who to do next? I think in continuation of my analysis of authors that inspire me, I can only follow up Jane Austen and Charlotte Brontë with L.M. Montgomery and Louisa May Alcott. I hope to inspire the readers of this post by sharing my observations of how inspirational these women are - and how inspirational their works continue to be...  As you may know, L.M. Montgomery was the author of the Anne of Green Gables series, the originator of the Emily of New Moon series and the creator of various other lovable worlds like Pat of Silver Bush. As the amazing author, originator and creator of these spectacular works, L.M. Montgomery could be described as the very epitome of memorable characterisation. She created individuals, who were altogether so lovable and left such an impact on the people who encountered them in her books that I would say L.M. Montgomery gave her readers a precious gift each time she penned a character. Anne Shirley, with her red hair, abundant imagination ...

Authors That Inspire Me

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Do you ever find yourself barely able to breathe from the sheer captivation of the written word? Some books have that effect, don't they?  In this post, I thought I would dive into the reasons for my sincere appreciation of some of my very favourite authors, exploring how their works have inspired and taught me... Let's start with Jane Austen (as I often do 😉). She is the queen of omniscient narration, with the occasional use of free indirect discourse. In plain English, this means she is excellent at narrating a story in 3rd person, while tapping into a specific character's thoughts and feelings. She does this with multiple characters at different points in her novels, without using 1st person to share her characters' internal workings. She cleverly reveals their opinions and emotions, but not all at once. Sometimes it's subtle, sometimes it's momentous. At any rate, Austen was an author who loved to surprise her readers and equally loved to make them laugh.  ...

A Poet's Prayer - Part One

 A Poet's Prayer  Chapter One  "And how are you this morning, Mrs. Stainton?" Robert brought her a steaming mug of coffee. "Enjoying wedded bliss?" She laughed and lifted her lips to kiss his cheek.  "Ever so much, my dear." "How good of your neighbour to watch over Thomas and Minnie, while we're away."  "Yes, indeed. Mrs. Deacon is invaluable. And Dorothy promised to pay them a visit. They couldn't be more thrilled. The kids took to her like ducks to water!" "Do you mind, Rose darling..." Robert began, as he produced a scrap of paper and a pencil. "I'd like to write you a poem."  "Must I sit still as if you were sketching my likeness?" "Only for a couple of minutes, my dear."  And so she posed, ensconced in a dressing gown and smiling disposition.  As promised, the poem only took a few minutes to scribble.  "There," he announced, proudly.  "May I read it yet?" ...

Nature-inspired Poetry

  Autumn Leaves crunched  Beneath my feet Squirrels munched  And took a seat Perching on the branch above Silver, lime, bronze and dove Colours, soft, vibrant, serene Sprayed and splashed across the scene. With flurrying tails  And scurrying trails  Bounding, he leaps And then he creeps  Pouncing upon  Carpets that shone  Sinking in the leaves.  Spring The leaves shimmer. The waters glimmer. Glistening, still, Listening till  The birds crash through... A bright flash, too, As their wings take flight. More things in sight... Those gleaming beaks  And fluttering tails. My eye - it seeks  The crowd that sails On high o'er lakes and trees beyond The peaceful clime, of which I'm fond.  A Seasonal Riddle Underneath the crackling path, Where trampled leaves make children laugh... Come and wake me if you dare! Though asleep, you'll find me there. Cold and bitter, ice and snow. Frosts that shimmer, flakes that glow.  Each bush...

Part Three - If Hearts Could Fly

Epilogue  Rose's heart pounded, as Robert led the way to the nearby park.  She was on the verge of asking, "where are you taking me?" when she realised that would be a needless question. It was clear Robert was seizing the opportunity to enjoy her company after a long day's work and watch the dusky, golden sunset from the benches by the park. It was the only splash of green in the area and much-appreciated by the residents of the city, especially the cotton mill employees. The fresh outdoor air was a welcome relief when compared to the thick, dense weight of cotton that permeated the air they breathed, daily, in the suffocating swamp of a factory.  Robert reached a bench and beckoned for Rose to take a seat beside him.  "You must know," he took her hand and pressed it to his chest. "I can't conceal it any longer. You must know that I love you." Rose's heart skipped a beat. "I... I love you too," she found herself saying after an i...

Part Two - If Hearts Could Fly

 Chapter Four  "Rose, my dear, you look as though you haven't got enough sleep! This industry is known for causing fatigue." Dorothy patted her back fondly and smiled. "You lying awake, dreaming of the future? Wondering if it contains a certain young gentleman we're both very fond of?" "Unfortunately, no." Rose sighed. "The reasons for my tiredness and the fact I had a sleepless night are far less agreeable." "I'm all ears." "Well... I've received a letter from my landlord and we are, as it turns out, no longer able to stay in the house. We have been given two weeks to vacate." "Oh, Rose!" Dorothy exclaimed. "I'm so sorry. I wish there was something I could do." "I've been praying for a miracle." "Of course you have. As will I." Rose paused in her work and shut her eyes tight. "Lord, send me a miracle," her heart whispered. "Send me a miracle."...

Part One - If Hearts Could Fly

  Chapter One  Rose Lambe gazed out the window longingly. It was a bright, warm, sunny day and the dense, heavy atmosphere of the cotton mill proved an oppressive contrast to the blue, summery sky. Oh, to be out of doors on a day like this! Though the mist hung low and thick in the winter, summer was a welcome break from the overcast gloom of the city. Although she rejoiced that Thomas and Minnie were benefiting from the beautiful day, she earnestly wished she could join them.  She was grateful nonetheless. Mrs. Deacon had promised to take the children to the park and Thomas had squealed at the prospect. Minnie had wailed into Mummy's skirts that she wanted to work the mill just to be with her.  "Come, Minnie," Rose had coaxed, gently pushing some stray curls and tucking them behind her daughter's ear. "You and Thomas are going to have a wonderful time at the park, as kind Mrs. Deacon has offered to take you. Have fun. And enjoy yourselves. You'll do that for...