Oskar is afraid of adventures. Yet one day he finds himself on a mysterious island which needs his help. Join Oskar on this unexpected and magnificent quest, where he finds not only courage but so much more… “It’s light, extremely enjoyable and very gripping.” Esther Chilton – author & editor. Perfect for ages 3 to 6.
Oskar is a ‘scaredy-bird’ and his preference to avoid adventure and stay safely in his nest has caused him to get lost on a strange island after separating from his friends in order to return home. On the island of Roda, Oskar befriends Bella, the red bell-flower. Bella is a sad little flower and Oskar soon learns that Maya, the happy songbird of Roda island has been taken by Drang, a dark cloud in the sky.
Oskar knows this won’t do and he undertakes to confront Drang and secure the release of Maya so that the island of Roda can be filled with music and happy again. Oskar soon learns that bravery is not a case of never feeling scared, it is doing something that must be done despite being scared.
Oskar’s Quest is beautifully illustrated with delightful colourful drawings which will appeal to any child. The well written story with its adventure and subtle message about bravery will ensure this story is a winner with both caregivers and children.
A short collection of poems of various lengths and styles, all with one thing in common: they were written for – or about – some of the various pets my hubby and I have had.
The poems in this collection are mainly about chinchillas and dogs, though other types of animals – in particular degus – sometimes make an appearance too. All poems are captioned with details of the pets they were written for or about.
This book comprises a short collection of charming poems about the poet’s furbabies. The poet is a great lover of animals and has a large variety of pets including Mollie the chinchilla who loves to watch TV, Lilie the Westie, who always wags her tail, Logan the Cavapoo, who does not like thunderstorms, Joshua the degu. People and children who enjoy pets and all their cute and funny habits, behaviours, and play activities will enjoy this book.
Today, I am delighted to host poet and author Miriam Hurdle for the July edition of Treasuring Poetry.
Welcome Miriam Hurdle
I’m delighted to be your guest on Writing to be Read to talk about poetry.
Which of your own poems is your favourite
Among the published poems in Songs of Heartstrings: Poems of Gratitude and Beatitude, several poems are my favorites in equal measure for different reasons. One is in the section of Songs of Marriage, one in Songs of Tribute, and one in Songs of Inspiration.
The time I wrote this post, my heart turns to the poem “Healthy Grieving” in the section of Songs of Tribute.
A boy blinded by fire. A woman raised by wolves. An avowed enemy offers help.
Tricks to Write a Trilogy
I didn’t start out writing a trilogy. It was supposed to be a story and then it got long, longer, and finally ended up enough for three books. Of course, a trilogy isn’t just a story broken into thirds:
A trilogy is a set of three stories that are connected and can be seen either as a single work or as three individual works. … Most involve the same characters or setting
Why is my series structured as multiple trilogies
My series is called Man vs. Nature. It examines seminal times in man’s evolution to explore what went right/wrong and how events moved mankind forward in our development to ‘modern man’. I had intended this to be one book for each event but soon found that was sorely inadequate. There just wasn’t enough time to fully develop the ideas so readers would understand while staying true to fiction characteristics like plot development, characters, and setting. Three books seems to work much better (though Crossroads may end up six).
I have three trilogies so far:
Dawn of Humanity–the birth of man
Book 1 and 2 are published; Book 3 planned for the end of the year
Crossroads–the most resilient species of our genus ever (Homo erectus)
Book 1-3 are completed; Book 4-6 are ideas rolling around in my brain
The Warrior Way–a period in prehistory when humans almost became extinct
Book 1-3 in the planning stages
Why Write a trilogy
Writers must choose what format their story will take. You can write a stand-alone book, a duology/trilogy (or more), a series, or something else I’m not familiar with. One of the most popular formats is the trilogy. Here’s why:
Readers get to stay with favorite characters while still knowing there’s not a never-ending story.
Many readers like the long story idea of trilogies.
The scope of a trilogy offers writers a liberating sense of space and freedom.
Many people who read one book in a trilogy will then read the rest, which is great for sales!
Tricks for writing trilogies
Here are a few tips for writing trilogies. I don’t necessarily agree with all of them but they are well-accepted tips for writing this format:
Break the story into three acts.
Include the same characters, overall theme in each.
Each book should satisfy readers on its own, be able to stand alone should the reader not want to read the others.
Book 2 and 3 should briefly summarize events in Book 1/Book 2 so readers understand what happened if they didn’t read them.
Leave some unanswered questions in Book 1 and 2 but not too many. And, resolve some of those posited in Book 1 and 2 in later books.
Some writers write all three at once and then publish all at once or with sequential roll-outs. Others write them one at a time. There doesn’t seem to be any right or wrong.
This is well-suited to genres with longer books like epic fantasy.
Write Book 1 at your leisure but write Book 2 and 3 on a tight schedule. Readers don’t want to wait forever for the rest of the story.
Book 3 ends the story with this caveat: Don’t worry if it doesn’t. Write another. It just means you no longer have a trilogy. Now you have a series.
There is no set way to structure a trilogy. You can make it one long story with stopping points. It can be an extended anthology where each book is only loosely related to the others. It may be character- or plot-driven.
Most popular trilogies
Lord of the Rings by J.R.R. Tolkien
Hunger Games by Suzanne Collins
The African Trilogy by Chinua Achebe
The Night Trilogy by Elie Wiesel
The House of Earth by Pearl S. Buck
The Bill Hodges Trilogy by Stephen King
The Ultimate Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy by Douglas Adams
The Foundation Trilogy by Isaac Asimov
Unraveling the Veil by D. Wallace Peach
About Laws of Nature
In this second of the Dawn of Humanity trilogy, the first trilogy in the Man vs. Nature saga, Lucy and her eclectic group escape the treacherous tribe that has been hunting them and find a safe haven in the famous Wonderwerk caves in South Africa. Though they don’t know it, they will be the oldest known occupation of caves by humans. They don’t have clothing, fire, or weapons, but the caves keep them warm and food is plentiful. But they can’t stay, not with the rest of the tribe enslaved by an enemy. To free them requires not only the prodigious skills of Lucy’s unique group–which includes a proto-wolf and a female raised by the pack–but others who have no reason to assist her and instinct tells Lucy she shouldn’t trust.
Set 1.8 million years ago in Africa, Lucy and her tribe struggle against the harsh reality of a world ruled by nature, where predators stalk them and a violent new species of man threatens to destroy their world. Only by changing can they prevail. If you ever wondered how earliest man survived but couldn’t get through the academic discussions, this book is for you. Prepare to see this violent and beautiful world in a way you never imagined.
A perfect book for fans of Jean Auel and the Gears!
Jacqui Murray is the author of the popular prehistoric fiction saga, Man vs. Nature which explores seminal events in man’s evolution one trilogy at a time. She is also the author of the Rowe-Delamagente thrillers and Building a Midshipman, the story of her daughter’s journey from high school to United States Naval Academy. Her non-fiction includes over a hundred books on integrating tech into education, reviews as an Amazon Vine Voice, a columnist for NEA Today, and a freelance journalist on tech ed topics. Look for her next prehistoric fiction, Natural Selection, Winter 2022.
Fresh blood streaked Short-tooth’s muzzle, her golden eyes alert to every movement around her as she munched on Gazelle’s meaty carcass. Each movement made the Cat’s tawny fur ripple over the powerful muscles beneath her skin. She raised her head, chewing slowly while studying the grass field in front of her, especially toward the back where it blended into the forest. She couldn’t see Mammoth but smelled it, close to the Uprights, maybe protecting them. Despite being the size of a boulder, this pachyderm could outrun most predators and would think nothing of crushing them beneath its massive feet.
Short-tooth wasn’t interested in the Uprights. Their bodies had little meat and less fat. Gazelle was more satisfying.
Catripped a slab of fragrant meat from the hind leg. Snarling-dog—to the far side—slapped the ground. He was hungry but wouldn’t eat Gazelle until Short-tooth finished. Cat purred loudly, close to a snarl, and Snarling-dog withdrew, but not far. Carrion-bird overhead tightened its circle and a tiny shrew the size of Short-tooth’s paw waited patiently, out of Cat’s range, eyes bright, nose twitching. A shred from the carcass was all it needed.
None of these creatures mattered to Short-tooth. She was the apex predator in her savannah habitat.
Sticky yellow globs of Mammoth dung slid down Lucy’s back and plopped to the dry thatch. The dung coat was melting under Sun’s intense heat, exactly as Lucy planned. Its purpose was to confuse Short-tooth Cat. The hotter Sun became, the stronger Mammoth’s smell.
Lucy and her young pairmate, Garv, lay motionless, like Snake sleeping, bodies pressed into the prickly grass, oblivious to the feathery feet that scurried over their backs. She and Garv, too, wanted what Short-tooth didn’t consume. They were more patient than Snarling-dog but that didn’t mean they wouldn’t eat first. The first to arrive got the best of the leftovers.
Lucy rubbed her raw eyes, bleary from watching Cat bite, rip, and chew. If Short-tooth knew of their presence, it was not because she saw them. Lucy and Garv blended into the landscape. Their skin was the color of dirt and dry grass, impossible to find if you weren’t looking. No part of their bodies moved except their narrowed eyes as they scanned the surroundings, evaluating each new arrival to the feast. The dominant scents never changed—Snarling-dog, Short-tooth Cat, something decaying in the nearby forest, her pairmate Garv’s sweaty body, and Gazelle’s ripening offal.
Sun’s relentless heat washed over Lucy in waves. Sweat dripped down her face, over her pronounced brow ridge and into her eyes, but for reasons she didn’t understand, despite his fur pelt, Snarling-dog was dry. He reminded Lucy of Ump, her tribe’s Canis member. Even on the hottest days, Ump didn’t sweat. Instead, he panted more.
Today, Snarling-dog panted hard.
Short-tooth raised her feline head, inspecting her habitat as her jaws crunched through the fresh carrion. She reeked of malevolence which meant scavengers like Lucy and Garv willingly waited their turn.
Sun climbed through the cloudless blue sky. The morning haze had burned off long ago. The dew Lucy hadn’t licked off the leaves, Sun’s heat had. Her throat was dry, lips cracked, but that mattered less than securing scavenge. Her tribe was hungry.
Lately, unexpectedly, when Lucy sat quietly as she did now, a tingle deep inside her chest told her Raza, her former pairmate, was in trouble. The first time she experienced this tingle, what Garv called “instinct”, it churned through her body as a current does in a stream. She thought she was sick until Garv explained this was instinct and it warned of danger, not illness. He told her always to listen, but how was she to do that? Raza had been captured by the tribe’s worst enemy, a formidable Upright called Man-who-preys. She didn’t know where they’d taken him. As often as she brushed the feeling away, it returned, each time stronger than the last.
Cat’s yellow eyes snapped open and her methodical jaws slowed. Something caught her interest, maybe Snarling-dog’s impatience or Carrion-bird’s relentless approach. After a warning hiss, Short-tooth shook her big head and pawed her face. A swarm of black flies lifted, buzzed briefly, and then resettled where they’d started, again gorging on the blood and carrion that stuck to Short-tooth’s face
The flies are thicker than usual.
Short-tooth returned to her meal and Lucy sniffed, wondering what drew Cat’s attention. She didn’t expect to see Man-who-preys here, but took nothing for granted. The tall, big-headed, hairless enemy always carried a long stick which he used to kill prey. Sometimes, he didn’t eat the animal, just watched it die. This unpredictability, that he followed no norms, made him more treacherous than other predators.
She inhaled, but didn’t smell his stench so turned her attention back to the hunt.
Carrion-bird floated overhead, feet tucked beneath its sleek body. The longer Cat ate, the more of the huge birds arrived. They thought their powerful sweeping wings, sharp claws, and piercing beaks made them the mightiest among the scavengers. What they didn’t realize was that Lucy and Garv possessed an even greater weapon: They could plan. Before Carrion-bird or Snarling-dog got too close, Lucy and Garv would take what they needed and flee.
They always did.
In the edging forest, Cousin Chimp hooted, the pitch and length describing the location of a tree newly bearing fruit. Leaves rustled as his band raced away. Lucy hoped they would leave enough of the succulent produce for her and Garv.
She hunkered deeper into the tall waving stalks, tracking the other scavengers and noting again how far away the trees were in case she needed to flee. A snake slithered over her foot, through the thatch and out of sight. She and Garv had been motionless for so long, Snake probably viewed them as dirt mounds in its path.
Garv tweaked an eyebrow and Lucy motioned, hands a tight circle in front of her chest, well hidden, “Dull colors, no knobs on snake’s tail—no danger.”
Her kind—Man-who-makes-tools—used a sophisticated blend of communication including body language, hand gestures, facial expressions, mimicking, and vocalization. One of their greatest defenses in this brutal world was the ability to become part of their surroundings. Voices were unusual sounds heard nowhere in nature except from Uprights, mostly the big-headed Man-who-preys. Lucy’s kind occasionally whispered and Tree-men, like Boah who was part of Lucy’s tribe, rarely made any sounds beyond huffs, grunts, howls, and moans. Only Man-who-preys jabbered endlessly.
Lucy’s eyelids drooped. This hunt had started yesterday when Lucy and Garv found the fresh cloven prints of a Gazelle herd. Lucy’s kind ate copious amounts of roots, nuts, fruit, juicy stems, and insects, but only meat gave them the energy to survive their dangerous lives. Because they hunted only dead animals, they depended upon predators to make the kill. Gazelle’s fleshy body always attracted Cat and its cousins, like Short-tooth. They would pick off the injured, and Lucy’s tribe would eat what they left.
Because not enough daylight remained yesterday, Lucy and Garv set out today, at Sun’s first light. They followed the herd while the rest of the tribe—the Tree-man Boah, the child Voi, and the Canis Ump—stayed at the homebase’s cave. Before Sun had traveled far, a snarl and a screech told Lucy a predator claimed its prey. When Carrion-bird and its cousins started to circle, she and Garv knew exactly where to go.
Garv nudged Lucy, the movement so subtle the grass didn’t even move. “Short-tooth is leaving.”
Lucy bit her lip and shot a look at Garv. His face radiated excitement.
She studied Short-tooth, tried to see what Garv saw and finally gestured, “I don’t see anything. Why do you think she’s finished?”
He motioned, one finger moving against his palm, “Instinct.” Nothing else.
But that was enough. Garv had taught her to stalk prey, knap tools, hunt, and protect herself. Because of him, she became an accomplished hunter, never missed a print, a bent frond, the fragrance left on leaves or bark, or any other sign. As partners, they always brought meat to the tribe. Most hunters didn’t.
Garv’s instinct had found more prey than Lucy’s tracking skills or senses ever did. She had no doubt Short-tooth would soon leave.
Cat’s big tongue, as long as Lucy’s forearm, licked the bloody scraps from her muzzle, a sign even to Lucy that she had finished. Lucy shifted to her hands and toes, knees hovering above the ground, prepared for what must come next. Garv did the same, his body hard from the life he lived, senses alert to every noise. Carrion-birds cawed and tightened their circle. On the opposite side of the field, Snarling-dog’s pack bared their canines, tails stiff. Drool dripped from their jowls and their gaze bounced between Cat and the Uprights, knowing from experience the scrawny but agile creatures were vigorous competitors.
You are fast, Snarling-dog, but we are smart. We will always get there first!
Lucy tensed as Short-tooth pushed up to her massive paws, canines red with blood, saliva dripping in strands from her jowls. She yawned, her mouth a dark cavity vast enough to swallow Lucy’s entire head, and ambled off. Lucy and Garv exploded to their feet and sprinted toward the carcass. Their powerful legs churned while nimble hands pulled cutters and stones from the sacks strung around their necks. Lucy’s job was to delay Snarling-dog and Carrion-bird while Garv stripped the carrion.
“Argh!” Lucy roared, waving a leafy branch through the air to make herself bigger to Snarling-dog while Garv attacked the carcass. Ignoring the fetid stench of dung and urine, he swung the sharp cutter and sliced through the hide and then muscle and tendon.
Lucy flung a stone at the lead Snarling-dog. It hit his temple, hard, and he dropped with a squeal. His pack slowed to reassess the upright creature and Lucy threw another stone, this one at the new leader’s eye. He yipped and stumbled, shook his head, and pawed at the blood that oozed from the wound and dribbled down his muzzle.
“Lucy!” Garv tossed an almost pristine haunch to her and then swung his chopper at Gazelle’s ribs. Carrion-bird, well into its death dive, talons extended, screeched its imminent attack.
“Let’s go!” Lucy called, the unexpected sound of her voice meant to startle the scavengers.
She hurled a rock at the lead Carrion-bird. It squawked and withdrew, which slowed the rest of the flock. Lucy grabbed an almost-meatless leg bone. It would be filled with nutritious bloody marrow. Meat secured over her shoulders, she and Garv fled. No one chased them. Why abandon certain meat for an uncertain meal? Lucy raced past a termite mound, noted its location, rounded a boulder bed, and lost sight of the fracas.
Not the scent, though. The tantalizing aroma sailed through the air, announcing to every scavenger around the availability of meat.
Today, I am going to focus on strategies to improve handwriting.
The age of the child determines the best strategies for improving handwriting.
For a beginner writer in the early grades, the following strategies are useful to help children practice their handwriting and gain confidence with writing:
Make handwriting fun
There are a few ways you can make practicing handwriting more fun. You can give your child a fun or special pencil to use to practice writing. A stripped one or a pencil covered in flowers or cars. You can also play simple games that involve writing like hangman, word puzzles and anagrams.
I started writing the Sir Chocolate series of books with Michael to help him improve his handwriting. He used to write out the stories…
“Poetry readers willing to walk the road of grief and family connections will find Grief Songs: Poems of Love & Remembrance a psychological treasure trove. It’s a very accessible poetic tribute that brings with it something to hold onto–the memories and foundations of past family joys, large and small.” ~Diane Donovan, Midwest Book Review
“Grief Songs: Poems of Love & Remembrance is a passionate ode to loved ones lost and an intimate portrayal of one family’s shared grief. It holds the key to solace in home photographs and illustrates just how special our singular moments can be. ~Toni Woodruff, Independent Book Review
“A beautiful, personal collection of family photos and poems that express the author’s most inner feelings. Nostalgic and heartfelt, Gauffreau’s poems are written in the Japanese style of tanka, simple, thoughtful, and full of love. Filled with wonderful memories of the past.” ~Kristi Elizabeth, Manhattan Book Review
I reviewed this book in my capacity as a member of Rosie’s Book Review Team. If you would like your book reviewed, you can contact Rosie Amber here: http://rosieamber.wordpress.com/.
Grief Songs: Poems of Love & Remembrance is an emotional depiction of the poet’s family and life told mainly through tanka poems linked to a specific family photograph. The collections starts with a poignant and beautiful trilogy of poems dedicated to the poet’s father and mother, both of whom have passed from this mortal life.
For me, the first poem was particularly striking as it demonstrated so much insight into the human understanding of death and the difference between a child’s perception of its permanence and that of an adult.
Each of the tanka poem takes a small step forward in the lives of the poet’s direct family and tells a story of love, life, and experience. Although, as the name of the collection suggests, each poem is tinged with the sadness of loss, they are also coloured with the joy of lives well spent.
This book is a quick read, approximately an hour, but it will leave you viewing grief differently and reflecting for a long time afterwards.
Pre-order Grief Songs: Poems of Love & Remembrance