Carolyn Astfalk is a wife, mother, and author of contemporary Catholic romances, including her latest, All in Good Time. She formerly worked as a communications director and now works just to keep her head above water. Find her books on Amazon and her other words scattered around the blogosphere and social media.
Photo by JPPI on morguefile.com.
Since Common Core Standards require the teaching of legible writing in only kindergarten and first grade, the possibility of cursive writing becoming extinct has spawned discussion about its value.
As a child, I remember the eager anticipation of learning cursive. It was as if I were being introduced to a secret language, one known only to adults and older children. In my mind, it was second only to using invisible ink.
5 CommentsIt’s been a long winter for many of us. Extreme cold. Loads of snow. Lots of sickness. Let’s celebrate Our Risen Lord and the return…
Leave a CommentTwo-hundred words based on this photo prompt at Sunday Photo Fiction:
Tabitha steadied the gun and took aim. A red line marked her target, wiggling as her wrist quavered. She pulled the trigger.
“There.” She foisted the gun on Stephen, then returned the flatware to its shelf. “What’s next?”
Stephen sighed and studied the papers he held. “Uh, twelve chargers?” He glanced around the housewares section, empty save for another browbeaten guy and overeager woman. “Wouldn’t that be in electronics?”
She giggled. “No, silly. It’s a decorative base for the plate.”
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I missed the Lenten midway checkpoint. Maybe on purpose. I haven’t exactly done a bang-up job with Lent this year. I can’ t say I mustered any great ambition to kick off the annual forty days of preparation for Easter. I share a bathroom with five other people, have no automatic dishwasher or microwave, and no hot water in the bathroom sink. Don’t I sacrifice enough every day?
Uh, no. Not really. Not that those couldn’t be legitimate sacrifices, but it would require performing them with the right intention. Which I haven’t.
A recent Smithsonian article (“Why Can’t Romance Novels Get Any Love?”) discusses the lack of academic and intellectual respect given to the romance genre. It’s an interesting read, but just as illuminating were the comments, some dismissive not only of the genre but specifically the “happily ever after.” (HEA) The article offers many points for discussion, but I’m going to focus specifically on the HEA element.
Is the HEA a product of our deluded imaginations – our desperate grasp at a world in which everything turns out well in the end? Or does it point to a divine hope – something more profound than a feel-good conclusion? Is it a meaningless trope or does it point to the theological virtues of faith, hope, and love?
Read my guest post today at 10 Minute Novelists, What 10 Minute Novelists Means to Me. Writing time was—and is—whenever I can grab it amid diaper…
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Why small success? Because that’s the only kind I know! Even the big ones come in small steps. Here’s my paltry offering for the week.
Two-hundred words based on this photo prompt at Sunday Photo Fiction:
Kiyara sprinted down the sidewalk, shouldering past old ladies lugging shopping bags, kids dodging cracks in the pavement, and business men preoccupied by their cell phones. Oblivious to all but her escape route, she ignored the commotion in the street, where a Hummer had rear-ended a compact sedan.