Dear Readers/Writers,
Since my last posting on Jan. 4th, I’ve rarely left my keyboard, each day,
from 9 a.m. to sometimes as late as 6 p.m. I’ve rounded the bend with 62,000 words to date and still writing. It would be more accurate to say I am taking dictation from all the characters in my new story.
A Senior reviewer, D. Donovan, at Midwest Book Review, whom I’ve known for years, was willing to review the new book in a raw, very rough first draft so that I could glean a couple of ‘blurbs’ for the book’s cover.
I’m certainly happy I asked. Well, all I can say is Wow!
“Mother Mac’s Boarding House is an exquisite read....” and
“Additionally, the political and social milieu of the times, which passed many restrictive rules on African Americans, comes to life in the light of personal experience. This is a far more intimate, compelling manner of absorbing civil rights and American history than any nonfiction text could achieve, immersing readers in the life of Marty’s journey….”
You’ve often ‘heard’ me describe the event where I write in my head ’till it needs to spill out (no more room) and that my characters take over their own stories and I become merely the typist.
No, it doesn’t happen every time but when it does happen, I consider it the proverbial, “gift horse” and I’m not about to ignore it.
As this is a prequel to Ain’t Nuthin’ Gonna Separate Us, I’ve had to work backwards weaving the dates of that book with this one while being true to the dates of documented American history. I’ve found it to be a challenge.
Just remember, your emerging characters can tell the story far better than you, the Author, can.
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After friends and fans read Ain’t Nuthin’ Gonna Separate Us, most of them demanded a sequel, NOW! 
What happens when Marty is up against two white building/health inspectors?
the story of one couple’s struggles to keep a wanted pregnancy. Joe stands helplessly by as his wife miscarries and healthcare providers can do nothing until she is near death’s door. 
ntry was invaded for the first time in our history, (if you don’t count the Brits). Over the years I have written some poetry of my reflections, my heartbreak as I visited ground zero and the firehouses [back in the early days], then observed the almost finished repair a few years back. It’s pretty for a cemetery. The building I’m not so fond of the architecture; for me, it resembles a middle finger thrusting into the same blue sky, daring them to try it again? I don’t know…………so here is my latest offering and a couple from other years on this anniversary of our souls weeping, forever changed.
for Ain’t Nuthin’ Gonna Separate Us and I am so grateful for the support.
and walked into the yard. A heavy-set woman in a hideous polyester suit struggled up the dirt path. “Can I hep’ y’all? Ya lost?”
in their writing of a new story. I am one of those lucky writers lately, and my blog posts have suffered for it. I came up for air to post for my readers and assure you I’m still alive. 
