What’s New! My Medium writing has taken off and I’m really enjoying it. I write for 4 publications and, of course, my own Life at White Rose Shire! So, I won’t be blogging much on WordPress for a while. I’d like to invite you to follow my work on Medium using this link to sign up for my new newsletters there. Medium Newsletter
Recent post “What God Really Wants” is from my list of Christian Poetry on Medium. I answer the question of what God really wants from us in a self-reflective free verse poem. You can read it here.
Free to Writers (or friends of writers) Before I close down the newsletters here, I hope you downloaded all the writing resources from earlier. You can still get them from my WordPress website. Use this link–Free Writer Resources and if you think you’d like to write for Medium too, come join me by using this link. See you there!
My Parents as Teens in West Yorkshire in the 1950’s
– part 2 of my memoir “RESCUED. REDEEMED. RESTORED”
My parents were teenagers when they met. Two young kids from a small town in West Yorkshire, England. Theirs was a small town full of woollen mills and factories. Where most people eked out a small wage and dreams were even smaller. No one dared have lofty ideas of world travel and fame. Their thoughts were on paying rent and buying enough food for the day. Entertainment was a couple of beers at the local pub and, if they were fortunate enough to be able to save a few shillings, a bus trip to the seaside at Bank Holiday time.
Lyndon was seventeen. A young merchant seaman. The son of a coal merchant and a housekeeper. ‘Coal merchant’ may be a tad misleading if you envisioned a smart businessman in a suit, sitting behind a mahogany desk in a downtown office. My grandfather, Arthur, rode a horse and cart down the cobbled back streets, delivering coal to residents. He collected the coal from a depot in huge bags and tipped it into a hole at the back of the house (if there was a back of the house). The hole had a grate that he’d remove and replace when he’d done. The hole led to the cold, damp cellar. Then off he’d go to the next-door neighbour’s house to do the same. The horse dutifully stepping slowly down the tar-covered street. At the end of the day, they’d trot down to the field at the bottom of the row houses. The weary horse would be fed and patted, and told she was a ‘good lass’ before the weary old man shuffled home. It was a hard life, as were many in the small town in the Pennines.
Grandad Calvert also owned many single-car garages and rented those to residents of the row houses. Quite often, there would be a row of houses followed by a row of toilets, followed by a row of garages as time progressed. The houses were attached, often without a back door because there was another row of houses attached at the back. These were often referred to as ‘one-up one-down’ homes. The row of toilets were the same, back to back. Not a lot of privacy, and newspapers for toilet paper. At least we had an advantage during the Covid pandemic. We remembered what we learned as children–use the stock market page!
My father didn’t live with Grandad Calvert. When he was home from his tour of duty he lived with his mother, Edith, a housekeeper, and her sister, Ada, who didn’t work at the time. I don’t know if Ada ever had a job. I know the women worked the factories during the war effort but I don’t know if she worked anywhere after that. Funny how children just don’t feel the need to ask. Now, as an older woman myself, I wish I’d asked more while I still could.
~read the first episode of RESCUED. REDEEMED. RESTORED here~
And you can find more photos of 1950s England on my Pinterest board including a photo of an outdoor loo!
Til next time, know you are loved by the One who created you in His image.
Another book bite from my revisions of my novel about lies and deception in a small-town church in Canada. My protagonist visits a research lab in hopes of getting to the bottom of the strange occurrences in her town. She begins to suspect fowl play is afoot.
“Arriving at the research centre they were cleared at the gate by the security guard. The building was impressive with large glass windows where they could see people in white coats milling around and riding escalators up and down three storeys. Maddie and Charles had no problem being shown to the secure elevator and the guard used his keycard to unlock the panel before choosing a floor that had no number or name. Security badges had already been created for them with a level three security ID. She was quite impressed and struggled to stifle a wide grin.”
I’m about halfway through my revisions now. It should be ready for publishing in late spring.
‘Til next time, remember you are loved by the One who created you in His image.
You’ve decided you want to write for God but now what? Most writers who feel they want their work to count for God’s kingdom in some way start out with that question. We don’t know how to write for God, what He wants from us, how to write what we feel He’s asking us to write, or how to get that out into the world when we’ve written it. Does it seem like a daunting task to write and publish something and even more so when our main audience is God Himself? I break all of that down in my new book,
The workbook has pages to jot down your thoughts and collect all the information you need as you discover how God created you for this new adventure. You’ll be able to decide what genre suits you best, which format aligns with you as a created individual, your natural talents and spiritual gifts, and how your personality shines through your work.
You’ll also see how you already have the experience you need to start writing now and hone your craft as you build your portfolio.
“God does not callthose who are equipped,He equipsthose whom He has called.” — Smith Wigglesworth
Don’t be fooled into thinking you have nothing original to write about. No one else has had the exact same experiences as you, so anything you write will be unique and from a different perspective. Write from your heart and people will be blessed
Til next time, remember you are created in the image of God who loves you very much.