Sneak Peek: Chapter One

Jemi’s Noble Quest

Photo by Thu Trang on

“Oh, Kenziah, you worry too much.” Jemi looked eagerly about as she continued, “Smell the spices, and enjoy the colors before us. These are our people. This is our home village. Father is respected and honored here. We are descendants of Job, who was one of the wealthiest men of the Syrian Desert! Job was a man of great integrity just like our father. God will provide, as he did in the days of Job. His hand is upon us even in this time of difficulty. You need to have faith, sister.”

  • Who is Jemi?
  • How can Jemi be related to Job?
  • When difficulties come will God really help?

Jemi’s Crimson Shawl & Hints of the Light

A crimson shawl is a life-line to Jemi. Why is Kenziah so protective? What is this mysterious Light? Read the book and find out.

Jemi’s Noble Quest: Coming soon through Amazon Publishing

Editing: Can or Can’t

img_6672-1Editing is like cleaning dishes after you’ve made a gourmet meal. Or sewing the holes in your jeans, you know what generation I am from, instead of working on a new dress project. For me editing is the least favorite part of writing, although, marketing may take a close second.

Some of the things writer’s like are: playing with words, developing plots, and expressing their voice on a topic. I was told a long time ago part of writing is “rewrite, rewrite, and rewrite”. Today we’ll talk about what I have learned on the use of contractions.

In 2007, stated, “As for novels, short stories and other forms of writing where your own style is required, it’s up to you whether you can, cannot or can’t use them.”

In 2015, Reddit said, “There is no rule.”

In 2016, announced, “…almost everyone commonly uses contraction in almost all forms of communication, writers can hardly avoid contractions in dialogue without sacrificing realism.”

In 2020, declared, “…we want to write natural dialogue – dialogue that flows with the ease of real-life speech – contractions work.”

So what does tell us? “When writing dialogue in a novel or play, contractions help reflect how a character actually speaks.” Some weird contractions are: ain’t, ma’am, ’tis, ’twas, y’all. In other words: is not, madam, it is, it was, and you all.

In closing, as I was writing my son handed me a copy of On Writing Well, by William Zinsser, one million copies sold and the 30th anniversary edition. Don’t I feel special. His comment, “Your style will be warmer and truer to your personality if you use contractions like I’ll and won’t and can’t when they fit comfortably into what you’re writing. ” “There’s no rule against such informality – trust your ear and you instincts.”

This ma’am, is gonna use contractions in her dialogue and may’b in other parts of her story. It ain’t a problem unless one over does’t. All kidding aside, the use of a good contraction at the right time is more than acceptable.

Book Journey: by Patrica Wolf

The day has come. I made the decision. My ten year old manuscript is going to finally take wings and launch!


After a decade, I woke up one morning this past spring and made the decision to self-publish. Maybe it was the warm spring breeze or the fact the nation had been put in “isolation mode”; to motivate my movement forward to publish. Whatever the reason, my adventure has begun. In appetizer portions I will be sharing the process. Also, dropping hints on the book in the weeks to come.





Buds wait to burst forth,
As ice kisses daffodils
Robins pass stiff worms
Dried from noonday sun.

We wait to burst forth,
As isolation hugs our lives
While robins fly free
Across the noonday sky.

Inspired by Psalm 104 and my granddaughter’s encouragement to write 😉.

As Winter Comes

As Winter Comes…

September’s bustling chatter

echoesm throughout the wood.

The drone of slick-back crickets,

whizzing of late cicadas,

and jabbering of sly chipmunks;

resound and ring in humid air.

Hydrangea’s bow bulky, blushing heads

and stately goldenrod glimmers

attracting bustling bumblebees

loading pollen for the making.

Time trickles with all things.

A babe is born and old men die.

September comes…

and goes as geese fly south.

For my father-in-law… May you know the streets of gold where Jesus awaits everyone willing to receive Him as Savior.”

“I will bless the Lord who has given me counsel;

My heart also instructs me in the night seasons.

I have set the Lord always before me;

Because He is at my right hand I shall not be moved.”

Psalm 16:7-8

My Path

I wonder of the light…
Which peels back dark of night
Of lurking shadow’s rights.

What brings forth new day?
What words will I need say?
What steps will slip away?

I assume secrets of night,
Intrigues me with worldly rights.
Yet, my soul yearns for the Light!

“Thy Word is a lamp
unto my feet,
A light unto my path.”

Psalms 119:105

Mount Zion

I sit still…

Amidst hollow landscapes

the air breaths spring tunes,

as ancients from length of days.

I sit still…

Watching sun blushing early morn;

day passes beneath the moon settles,

as aged earth lingers and groans.

“Then the moon shall be confounded,

And the sun ashamed, when the Lord of host

Shall reign in Mount Zion, and in Jerusalem,

And before His ancients glorious.”

Isaiah 24:23

Junes’ Song

Before slice of dawn…
after throaty bullfrogs croak
and birds begin their shrill;

there is a parcel of time
in which no sounds emerge
out in the inky darkness of night.

Over shadowy country landscapes,
under the veil of bright spring morn
there settles an empty, hollow stillness.

And some doze, as other stir:
‘bove bright blue buntings breed
below badger burrows down deep.

Arise with break of new dawn…
Lower your daily plans, read the Word!
There one will find stillness of heart.

I rise before the dawning of the morning,
And cry for help; I hope in Your word.

My eyes are awake through the night watches,
That I may meditate on Your word.

Psalm 119:147-148

Spring Storm

Wind howls like a wild wolf lost in a sea of terror…. howling, howling, howling

Tears at tree top. Toppled them to cold ground littered with dead debris.

Shakes the bough, bends the trunk, tumbles all across moist earth.

Is such a night when restless sleep haunts watches of twilight till dawn.

The soul unable to rest. The mind troubled. The heart sin blackened.

He who spins the wind and topples the trees; it is God one needs seek to find rest.

To stop the howling, howling, howling…

James 4:7-10

Draw near to God and He’ll draw near to you

First Snow


How dreary thorns in flesh?
Russet hues in wintry light;
against dismal resting earth.

It’s here first snow appears;
scatters crystals among trees,
interrupts rioting leaves of fall.

Where comes storehouses of snow?
God binds them in unreachable homes;
unleashing flakes at His sovereign will.

A child sees first snow differently,
when mossy earth is laden white;
over, over, and over again anew.

Yet time will come, snow shall melt,
life’s bleakness fade; in last of days
and earth made new again, as snow.

“… no more death or mourning
or crying or pain, for the former
thing have passed away.”

Revelation 21:4

My eleven year old granddaughter shared a slice of wisdom with me the other day. I told her it was going to snow. She said, “Its first snow!” with a tone of excitement. “It already snowed this year,” I simply replied. “But it hasn’t snowed for awhile,” said she. Looking at the bare landscape I saw tawny trees, exposed earth, and stately green pine’s lack of decorations. It was then I understood the importance of snow to her. Let’s be reminded, as we struggle through the season of celebration, whatever came to one’s door unwelcome will one day pass away. Like melting snow, will disappear and all will be made new by a sovereign God.