Another Cinderella- First Snippet

CindellaBirds

This snippet is from the book I intend to put out by September. It’s called, ‘Another Cinderella’. It’s one of the last overtly Christian stories I wrote, back before I gave up on the impossibility of getting an agent or a Christian publisher.

In this tale Cinderella’s stepsister is gradually transformed into the new slave at home, beginning a few weeks after Cinderella left to marry the prince.

Atlantia is angry and is stubbornly determined NOT to become another Cinderella.

~           ~           ~           ~           ~           ~           ~           ~           ~           ~           ~           ~

     ‘To Atlantia’s uttermost surprise the little woman took her umbrella and rapped Atlantia smartly on the head with it.

            “Well, it’s about time!” the funny woman spoke, with a voice that croaked and splintered. “Let me in! You’re lucky enough to have me, so step aside!”

            The strange woman formed her free hand and her umbrella hand into a sort of wedge and barged her way right by her, seeing as how Atlantia’s mouth was still open in shock. Then she stood in the kitchen and turned triumphantly around and stared at her.

            “Who are you?” gasped Atlantia, rubbing the top of her head. Then she got annoyed. “And what do you want?”

            “It’s you that wants me, brat, although you haven’t figured that out yet.”

            “I most certainly don’t want you, so go away,” said Atlantia.

            “Humph. Just wait until tomorrow, and see if you want me then,” said the impossible woman.

            “I will never want you,” stated Atlantia.

            “Humph,” the woman said again. She glared at Atlantia, who glared right back. Atlantia was about to send her away, but she saw the woman’s fist tighten on her umbrella weapon.

            “Who are you?” she asked the frizzy woman again.

            “My name is Zipporah.”

            “Why are you here?”

            “I’m here to help you, of course.”

            “Help me!” exclaimed Atlantia, rubbing the top of her head again. “I’d never allow myself to be helped by a person like you!”

            “Fine then. I’ll go, and you’ll soon miss me! But just remember; only a select few get sent helpers. Cinderella had a helper, if you must know. A godmother.”

            “You’re my godmother?” asked Atlantia unbelievingly.

            “You’re too much of a brat to rate a godmother,” sneered the unpleasant woman. “I’m an imp. Your imp! And I don’t come unless I feel like it!” And forming her hands into a wedge again she pushed by Atlantia once more and on out the door.’

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Soul Beauty and the Best Dance

garden dance black and white

Take a dance out in the garden;

While the Ball continues inside,

A hidden moment with your secret love;

Faraway dreams off into the night.

 

There are moments that sparkle in life;

Pure happiness though you’re awake,

Behind you hours of life’s preparation;

Right now this memory you’ll take.

 

For a shining single moment;

The world could offer nothing more,

The dancing companion is your ideal;

Loss remains inside, behind the metal door.

 

But what if that moment stretched to always;

If your heart’s deepest love were true,

What if faraway a glistening castle;

Waits for dream’s arrival, and you.

 

You might call that future Heaven;

The fact we long for it is proof,

No matter how lumpy,  or scarred-up we feel;

When we’re loved by Him our soul beauty is real.

Decision Made For Next Release

MissFoley'sFountain

I’m going to put out my next book in September. It’s called The Time Mechanic. I remember sitting at the coffee shop in Snoqualmie, getting my original inspiration for the story. I was intrigued with the idea that a man was just sitting there one moment, ordinary to go through his days, and suddenly he became a… (Time Wizard, I originally called it- but I won’t write wizards. So, Time Lizard, my brain goes to, which doesn’t work AT ALL.)

Anyway, an ordinary man one minute, becoming the Time Mechanic the next.

Here’s the poem I begin the story with. (If I’ve posted this poem before I don’t remember it so it doesn’t count.)

 

‘Not the fairest, the wealthiest, or the mighty one full of hate;

One can have a humble profession yet discharge a noble fate;

Not the shining star at the table or the envious in the shade;

It’s from ordinary friends that Time Mechanics are made.’

 

‘Not skirmishes; nor pestilences, battles or politics;

These problems are for all humanity to fix;

Time Mechanics come to mend the world’s pain;

They arise from the steam; then find obscurity again.’

 

I’m All In

SnugHarbor

When you meet a stranger on a windswept hill

Something familiar about Him gives a thrill

of the joy when you sang a child’s lark

of fireplace and armchair when outside is dark,

And how He was connected to your first spark

of life.

~        ~        ~

Now I’m old and tired and I get scared

Not like the vague fears that used to be compared

Or the goosebumps teenagers laughing shared,

No, these fears have weight and are real,

Because I’ve lived them; I’ve discovered I’m not made of steel,

and I cried.

~        ~        ~

How wonderful to know that He’s my Lord still

While I wonder who I was; where I went and how did I kill,

That potential of faith I used to brag about,

I was going to serve, speak and take a walkabout,

I was going to bring other people home with a shout

of exquisite beauty.

~        ~        ~

Yet. No matter how I’ve let Him down,

Or how my happy bubble burst and left town,

I can’t count a lot of bobbles on my lightweight crown,

Still He loves me, I don’t how I’ve earned this basket He filled,

That one choice in Him was the right testament and will,

be the glow that redeems me.