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Travel

When in Memphis, experience these attractions for free

Memphis has been bustling for centuries, being well-connected by road and train and surrounded by cotton-growing fields. A hub for the confederate army during the Civil War, Memphis is also where Martin Luther King died. Music courses through its streets, etched by the vicissitudes of racial justice and rewritten by the birthing of another king of rock ‘n roll, Elvis Presley. Memphis offers a lot for free to tourists today. I recommend five free attractions and one paid attraction.

Let’s start with the FREE of cost.

The Memphis Sign

 You only pay for parking at Mud Island Park (the google maps destination). Everything that follows is free. You tread along constructed rivers and adjoining city names, reading history trivia and maps. It’s fascinating by Interstate 64 bridge’s shadow over the Mississippi River. The park ends at the Memphis Sign.

Tip: Don’t climb the letters for photos. Your bodies won’t show. An adjacent board tells you to stand away from the sign for the best photographs.

The Ducks

What’s the draw about ducks waddling from a fancy hotel’s elevator to its fountain, especially when it involves a half-hour wait sitting with children, crying? Let me explain. The Peabody Hotel had an incident when their guest walked in with ducks. Lined with fancy shops and restaurants, the ducks didn’t belong. It seemed fitting to Memphis culture, transforming an odd experience into a not-odd-at-all tradition. Eleven in the morning and five in the evening, the ducks arrive daily. Crowds line the red carpet from the middle elevator to the fountain a solid half hour before time. The staff manages and entertains with an odd pride. Children will love it.

The Beale Street

Visit Beale Street after sundown and into the night. We were visiting with time-limited children for the atmosphere, not the partying. Children can’t enter here after nine, and those already present must exit by eleven. We arrived here at six-thirty, walking along the main street with the trams and the lit carriages, a pedestrian street. The live performer’s music booms from restaurants, the flashing signs glitter, and the gift shops line each side, contrasting my image of Memphis, which I lovingly call a sleepy city where we can get between most places in fifteen minutes.

The experience is electrifying, treading the expanse from Elvis Presley’s statue in Elvis Presley Park to W. C. Handy’s statue. The experience is free until you sit down to try their exotic drinks, which we didn’t.

The Light Show

Check out Beale Street Crossing at the Mississippi River next, arriving five minutes before the half-hour or the hour when the already-lit Bridge (Interstate 64) breaks into a light show. We were here on a cold, windy night, and the show started with a solidarity display of blue and yellow for Ukraine. The show lasts ten minutes and repeats every half-hour until ten-thirty. 

The Pyramid

 The BassPro shops at the Pyramid aren’t exactly free. You can sure visit it for free, especially on rainy days. A highly rated hotel and an observatory for city and river views can be found inside, along with the arcade-like shop. We skipped the observatory and roamed the big sports shop, where our children turned this attraction into not-free, as they picked out gifts for themselves. Pyramid rules Memphis’s skyline. I call it Memphis’s Eiffel Tower because you can see it from everywhere.

Pyramid from outside as seen from the Memphis Sign

Experience these for free.

For a price, Memphis hosts live shows and performances: Graceland, Elvis Presley’s home, and other museums around music and cotton. Graceland will have the steepest price tag. We skipped these for the one that I insist you must visit.

The one paid attraction I recommend …

Time stands still at the Lorraine Motel in Memphis since April 4, 1968: a turbulent time in American history when African Americans lived a segregated life devoid of fundamental civil rights. Dr. Martin Luther King visited Memphis to help with the sanitation department issues. Boarded in Room 306 of the Lorraine Motel, Dr. King would conduct business on the Balcony, where he breathed his last moments that evening, shot by a bullet from a boardinghouse window across the street. They have frozen both the hotel and the boardinghouse.

You enter it to witness the National Civil Rights Museum, and it begins with the start of slavery. It melts into the cultural clothes and music the African Americans tried to preserve. It rings with speeches from Dr. King, including his last before he died. The building across shows the rental, the bathroom from where the shooter shot him, and how authorities captured him in London a month later.

This stop will leave a lasting impact on your psyche, worth every penny, and it will force thoughts for days. Even the gift shop will hold you there longer. The crowd size was the only negative, but the museum is deservedly famous.

Other Attractions and Restaurants

Other attractions are Overton Park, Overton Square, and the Crystal Shrine Grotto, all free.

My favorite Indian restaurant (for authentic Punjabi food) in Memphis, which we repeatedly ate at, is the India Palace. Try their Kadhi Pakoda. Taste the chocolate Banana bread at Otherlands Coffee. And the best breakfast award in Memphis goes to Brother Junipers.

To see the city’s oldest restaurant, visit the Arcade, though we skipped this stop.

Memphis never filled my bucket list. But I am glad we visited here. And so should you.

Liked this, check out my blog on New York City.

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Travel

Five New York City Attractions You Can Skip When Short on Time

Whether you have one day or four, don’t feel like you need to see every city landmark to experience New York City. Here’s my list of attractions you can skip when visiting New York City.

  1. Washington Square Park. The park is busy, dirty and foul-weed-smelling. To experience lush greenness removed from the busyness of New York City, I highly recommend treading the High Line, which you can take from attraction to attraction like The Vessel in Hudson Yards.
    The other park high on your list should be the huge Central Park. Where to go in the Central Park? Read on.
  2. Carriages in Central Park. Even if you are tired and want to lift your feet off the ground, you can tread past the carriages because the park’s heart is pedestrian-only. When in Central Park, walk the Mall from Womens Pioneers Memorial monument down the steps to Bethesda Fountain—places the carriages can’t reach.
  3. The Bull. At Wallstreet by the Battery Park, always surrounded by a large crowd, is the statue of the Bull. It’s so busy you must meander through the photo-clicking crowd to view it. Skip this stop, and head to the Wall St. and witness the Fearless Girl Statue on a quieter backroad that not all tourists find. A lovely cafe lines one end of the road, too.
  4. Roosevelt Island Tram. This tram is often suggested to catch views of the city at a budget price of a subway ticket. However, OMNY system isn’t installed here. And they don’t sell tickets on the spot. You must walk to the adjacent subway station to get a metro card. And frankly the views aren’t comparable to one of the various observatories of NYC.
    Instead of the tram, I recommend walking the Roosevelt Island, facing Manhattan, starting from the Lighthouse Park with the sculptures on women’s lives to the Franklin D. Roosevelt Four Freedoms’ Park and the Smallpox Memorial at the opposite end. The views of Queens and Manhattan are amazing from the Freedoms Park.  Pace yourself on this two-mile long journey.
  5. Empire State Observatory. You can’t go wrong with any observation deck in NYC. But I recommend the Vanderbilt Summit One, the newest of all decks, for two reasons. One, you get to see remarkable Empire State Building, which you wouldn’t if you were on top Empire State itself. It offers close views of the Chrysler Building. And you experience more than merely the view of the city: it’s mirror collage, bouncy balls, three floors of fun.
    I will add on a third reason: it’s right next to the Grand Central Station, making it easily accessible and giving you the chance to see the Grand Central Station, too, in the same trip. The summit is close to the Times Square. So, evening tickets over sunset and night views and ending it in Times Square is a neat little tip. Book ahead because the popular times do tend to get booked early.

Being short on time isn’t a bad thing if it brings you to the best of the city with these tips.


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The Top Ten Towns of Colorado

Today, I take you to Colorado, a state I have visited multiple times. That’s why instead of a simple journal on our latest and fondest experiences in the state this past August, I want to take a step back and name the top ten towns of Colorado you must experience in order from ten to one, one being the best. I base their rank on charm, their pedestrian friendliness, activities, and natural beauty. It was a hard list to make. Sadly, I couldn’t fit Montrose with the Black Canyon and the Curecanti National Recreation Area on the list. But it’s worth a mention.

10. Grand Lake

Of all the towns surrounding the Rocky Mountain National Park, Estes Park is probably made famous by the movie shining and its proximity to the attractions inside the National Park itself. But I had to pick Grand Lake because of its sheer beauty. The small town, located on a beautiful lake tucked to the west side of the park, offers cute shops and restaurants without tearing you from nature. That’s why it made my pick of the number ten.


9. Aspen

Aspen made the top ten list because not only is the route to the town breathtaking, it offers a bustling downtown, nature hikes, and mountain bike competitions. Not our fondest memory, but we inadvertently got stuck in Aspen because of the ongoing bike tournament when we were there. While in Aspen, take the Silver Queen Gondola up to the Aspen Mountain, where you can enjoy a meal and a view.

8. Keystone

If possible, stay on Lake Keystone and relive the glittering lights I saw around the shimmering waters at night and its sleepy wakefulness in the morning. Five minutes away is the pedestrian River Run Village, where you can enjoy the gushes of Snake River, or take a Gondola up, or eat breakfast at Inxpot, or tread the brick-laced paths. No matter what you choose, the River Run Village in the Keystone area will bring Europe to you. Drive on the road up to Mount Evans while you are there for breathtaking views of the area studded with lakes.

7. Salida

A town snuggled into the heart of Colorado, away from the popular tourist destinations, has a lot to offer to my fond surprise. Take the spiral drive up to view the city and Arkansas River from S Mountain. You can walk along or kayak on the river in the valley town. The downtown will not disappoint either, but that’s not all. Residing on the famous Route 50 of Colorado, each direction on Highway 50 offers a scenic attraction. About twenty minutes west, you will find the Monarch Scenic Tramway with the gift shop that gives free popcorns to all taking the tram, including the woolens you might need in the middle of summer.

So don’t overlook Salida next time you are in Colorado. It’s also close to the Great Sand Dunes National Park.

6. Cortez/Dolores

Removed from the big urban centers, seven hours from Denver, almost six hours from Salt Lake City, eight hours from Las Vegas, and four hours from Albuquerque, NM, you will realize Cortez’s first benefit right away. Cortez is a cross-section in the road, and what you pick can land you in a widely different state, different scenery altogether.

Now consider this: Cortez is fifteen minutes from Mesa Verde National Park, two hours from Monument Valley, Forest Gump Point, three hours from Horseshoe Bend in Arizona, ten minutes from the intersection of four states, home to the sleeping Ute Mountain, minutes from the foothills of San Juan Mountain (home to the top four towns of Colorado on my list), and has several maintained Native Americans cliff dwellings besides Mesa Verde (Escalante Pueblo being my favorite). To top it, Cortez Cultural Center is the epicenter of traditions, dances, stories, and history.

Cortez is the unsung hero of Colorado. Grab breakfast from SilverBean while you are there.

5. Vail

Vail was Colorado’s first pedestrian town I had visited in 2013. My daughter was only eleven weeks old. Without fail, this town will reflect Switzerland in its floral displays, cobbled paths, quaint alleyways, restaurants, shops, big public restrooms in every block. Like Aspen, this, too, is a ski town centrally located in Colorado.

4. Telluride/Mountain Village

Situated in the heart of the San Juan Mountains, two towns connected by free-of-charge gondolas, one pedestrian, both breathtaking, Telluride and Mountain Village is a combo designed in heaven. We visited Telluride this past summer. Telluride has lots of hiking trails, and the one I recommend for families is the Cornett Creek Falls along the brick-colored mountain and a stream to a spectacular end of the waterfall. It provides just enough adventure yet isn’t too taxing.

Parking by the gondolas took a while. You can get out of the gondola at the first stop atop the mountain to hike to views, but we carried on to the Mountain Village: stop number two. Additional gondolas take you to more destinations. The best parts of the Mountain Village were the plazas uniquely named like the sunset, reflection, heritage, etc. We grabbed food from one of the restaurants open for lunch (most open for dinner) and grabbed a stationary, standalone gondola for our very own private cocoons lunch at the Heritage Plaza.

This area is a little away from the other towns in the San Juan Mountains, but that’s its strength. Check out the bookshop and café in Telluride—a great bookstore. But don’t miss my favorite lake of the region, accessible from the road with a maintained parking lot, the Trout Lake, south of Telluride.

3. Ouray

They call Ouray, hidden in the heart of the Million Dollar Highway, the Switzerland of America. Waterfalls slam down its rocky and muddy cliffs. Flowers flutter through the pots lining the windows. Restaurants are abundant. Coffee shops, too. Must-see attractions include Cascade Falls and the Box Canon.

Follow roadside signs for Box Canon instead of google. Otherwise, you will find yourself on a gravel road with no entry visible into the park. The correct entrance is east of the river beginning at a well-maintained parking lot with a ticket entrance. So if you don’t see that, turn around. Box Canon will offer two hikes. Take both. You can finish here in an hour or two max. One path leads down to the roaring canyon with a waterfall on the inside of the mountain. Brilliant. Up the stairs, the second path leads to a bridge overlooking 360-degree views and a tunnel.

A roadside waterfall worth stopping thunders down the mountain as you leave Ouray going south. While in Ouray, stop at the Otis Hot Spring north of here, noting it’s “clothes optional.” That posed a dilemma for us because we have three little children. But, gladly, we did go, and people, naked or not, minded their own business. It was pristine, and the staff was friendly.

2. Silverton

Masked with mud roads, laced with its notorious history, and studded with out-of-this-world coffee, ice cream, and funnel cake shops, that’s Silverton. Blair Street flaunts a jail amongst other ancient displays. The animus river here is thundering and roaring. Surrounded by the Molas Lake and Molas Pass, this town is where the Million Dollar Highway begins, leading you to the narrow, high Uncompahgre Gorge with nothing between you and the cliff but a twenty-five-mile speed limit.

1. Durango

Durango is the biggest town in Southwest Colorado, boasting an endless stream of activities and an eclectic array of restaurants. Rafting. Ziplining. Biking along the Animus River. Or sitting down. Historic parks lining the river. Downtown. James Ranch Grill for an organic, pure lunch and farm. The Pinkerton Hot Springs. And when you tire from that, Durango is near Pagosa Springs, Mesa Verde, Cortez, and the San Juan Mountains themselves. It’s the well-rounded offerings that firmly put Durango on the number one spot.

There you have it, my top ten Colorado towns. Until next time, it’s me bidding goodbye. Here’s to a more peaceful and safer world.

Mars D. Gill is the author of House of Milk and Cheese and Letters from the Queen. If you are following the release of her third book and life, www.bookofdreams.us is her landing page, the best place to subscribe. If you are already here, you need to do nothing else.

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Travel

The Best of the Best at Door County, Wisconsin

For Door County tips, like best season to visit, best beach, the best of the best, read on.

I am a well-traveled author of fiction, who also shares her learnings so you can plan smooth, relaxing travels across the globe. If this interests you, hit subscribe.

Having visited the Door County of Wisconsin three times, today’s topics delves into the best of bests. Three hours north of Chicago, Door County is in the northern peninsula past Green Bay surrounded by lake Michigan. Its series of towns offer unique gifts, all of which I will cover today.

Best Town

I love them all, whether the streets of Egg Harbor, the bridges of Sturgeon Bay, the northerly lights from Gills Rocks, or the cliff of Fish Creek. But my favorite town to walk is Sister Bay, facing west, ideal for sunset. What makes Sister Bay unique is its ambience, the gift shops, ice cream parlors, café, the Al Johnson’s grass seeded roofs with goats. Other restaurant highlights are Wild Tomato and Boathouse on the Bay for dinner. Both offer outdoor seating, Boathouse also offering shutters that open if seated inside the restaurant. For ice cream and coffee visit Analog ice cream and coffee. Sister Bay has an energy unlike any other.

Best Beach

Hands down, the most unique and removed Door County beach experience award goes to the School House beach at the Washington Island. Located a fifteen-minute ferry ride away, the beach is covered by smooth ivory pebbles, sparing you the annoyance of dry sand but abundant with turquoise green waters. Though popular, the beach will be far less crowded owing to its location up north. The beach and ferry to and from the island fits neatly in two to three hours.

Best Park

For most unique experience, visit the Cave Point County Park. It boasts stacked pebbly shores, deep cliff, howling waves, and the prize, the cave from where tourists dive into Lake Michigan.

Best Season to visit

Fall colors bring the entire peninsula to life, making it my pick for best season. It is not necessarily less crowded than summer.

Best Place to Stay

The favorite place I stayed at was the condo 1202 at Little Sweden. It had two bedrooms with two queen size beds, a double futon, and a king master, ideal for a party of 7, overlooking an emerald pond. Its located between Fish Creek and the Egg Harbor.

There. Those are my list of Door County Bests. It’s barnlike shops selling fresh cheese, fruit, and abundant wineries will keep you coming back. If you like this, subscribe. Next time, we explore Colorado.

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Travel

The Spectacular Waterfalls of Northeastern Alabama

The highest point of Alabama at the Cheaha State Park. The World’s Largest Office Chair. The Waterfalls.

A day for goodbye was when we left Dauphin Island early in the morning, embracing the road leading us North, the same way we had come south. Montgomery came and passed by. And the endless, picturesque attractions of the northeastern, hilly Alabama region began. First came the highest point of the state.

The Cheaha State Park

Numerous hiking spots atop the Cheaha lead to the mountain’s edge, the panorama of the flat valley below misty and glinting at the same time. We hiked on two trails: a 10-minute boardwalk at the Bald Rock and the Pulpit Rock, the latter being our favorite. Both hikes are .3 miles. The Pulpit Rock hike involves descending along boulders one way and ascending on the way back, making it more fun yet short. Its rewards lie in the fewer crowd, more places to rock climb, and a guarantee of a rocky seat facing the valley, a perfect spot for Earth-Watching!

A restaurant lies inside the part with open seating and a jaw-dropping view, one we had to skip because it wasn’t lunchtime yet. We headed to the lower campground, stealing stoic moments at Cheaha Lake.

We drove to Gadsen next via the World’s Largest Office Chair near Oxford. The area is beautiful, but I wouldn’t make a special visit here for the chair. If passing through, know about this roadside display.

Noccalula Falls

A legend has it that a princess named Noccalula chose to jump to her death instead of marrying on her wedding day.

Here, we stood across from the river, and her statue with one leg propped, hanging over the raging water. 

Two entrances lead to the falls. We chose the North one, not the one with the campground and the statue. Overly crowded, yet you can hike along the river and find a more secluded spot. The best time to visit the region’s waterfalls is early Spring. At the end of March, the water was raging and howling for us, the best sound therapy nature has to offer. 

Food

We were hungry when we arrived at Gadsen, and let me tell you, if you are in the area, order pizza/pasta from Mater’s Pizza & Pasta Emporium. That’s what we did. Lunch in hand, we came to the falls.

We crashed another waterfall after this one.

Little River Falls

The region offers a large selection of waterfalls. We chose Little River Falls for its history, its proximity to the freeway (our hotel was ways away in Tennessee), and the cute little town of Fort Payne at its mouth. We had thought of quickly visiting here to snap a photo and leave. But Little River Falls will hold you there. Plan a half-hour, not for a massive hike, to chill. The falls are right off the large parking lot, starting with a sign memorializing the trail of tears about a massacre of Native Americans.

A boardwalk paves the way to the impressive waterfall. You have two more opportunities to experience the river: descend the steps to the river by the road: highly recommended. Or walk across the river along the bridge to the other side with benches and more photo ops. You can see this in ten to fifteen minutes, but we chilled by the gushing river, down the steps, where we met with a kayaker, readying to plunge down the falls. We didn’t wait for it, as we had two more hours left of our day-long itinerary.

Food

For coffee, I recommend the Spot Coffee shop in Fort Payne.

Coffee in hand, we entered Georgia briefly. The mountain ranges were the hallmark of the drive. Near the Lookout Mountain, which we had seen before( and I highly recommend), we entered Tennessee. In the pouring rain, we reached our hotel in Manchester, southeast of Nashville.

Though the drive from Dauphin Island to Manchester was nine-plus hours, it didn’t feel long owing to the frequent and breathtaking stops. The area is strikingly different from central Alabama and the coast. The best time, in my opinion, to visit here is Springtime when the water volume is high, blue, and puts on a show.

This blog wraps up our Alabama series. Next time, I will share more about the Door County of Wisconsin. Until then, I wish you beautiful destinations. If you haven’t already, check out my new release, House of Milk and Cheese.

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Travel

New Orleans With Children

The Bakeries. The French Quarters. The Riverwalk and plazas. The Garden District.

I used to think that New Orleans was for the party people, perhaps not appropriate for little children. I was wrong. Yes, it’s a happening place. But it’s for everybody. A unique charm and the sweet aroma of pastries roams the flower-studded streets. We stayed at Dauphin Island, Alabama, which enjoys proximity to this city–about two hours away. Owing to it my son’s eleventh birthday that day, we wanted New Orleans to be grand. It delivered.

1. The Bakeries

Every corner seems to have one: French bakery shops and cafes. These shops go well with music, art, and books of New Orleans. Our first stop was Bittersweet Confections. With brilliant customer service, a small but bigger-than-a-pastry cake, available candles at the shop, we weaved the birthday spirits. They provided the silverware and a lighter as we enjoyed our second warm breakfast of the day.

Yes, ladies and gentlemen, experience this city through your taste buds. Sweetness! My son opened his gifts and made a wish before cutting the cake. Birthday at a bakery—bravo.

2. The Walk Along the River

While Spanish Plaza was under construction, strolling along the misty and mysterious Mississippi River with ships gliding by inspired a meditation. The New Orleans Holocaust Memorial and the Steamboat Natchez hallmark the walk. Admiring its personality and sheer command of the coast from the outside, we skipped the food and cruise.

3. Jackson Square

This square is a famous landmark in the French Quarters described beautifully as a park where artists paint, draw, and sell. Hey, and I write. And me children climb its trees. But this was a moment I fell in love with this city that dedicated a square to artists. The St. Louis Cathedral rings across from it, and large crowds, maskless in March 2021, too, haunt here. Yes, that ensured we hastily exited and toured the Royal Street till Frenchman St with the restaurants and Washington Square Park.

We did avoid Bourbon street, avoiding the weed smell. Bring good walking shoes, a determined mind, and in my case, bribes of cheap gifts for children to walk on for miles and miles. We rested at the Washington Square before venturing to the Dauphin Street, lining colorful residences, people chatting on their patios to Louis Armstrong Park.

4. The Parks

The city is sprayed not just in color or cafes but lovely green stretches of parks. We spent a considerable chunk at the Louis Armstrong Park with the sculptures, the fountains, the wooden bridges, and the flowers.

5. The Garden District

My favorite. We started the experience in this neighborhood at the quaint Garden District Bookshop. When I conversed with the owner regarding my books, my youngest emerged out of the children’s book room, carrying five books reaching over his head. We did raid the bookstores and spoiled ourselves with more. New Orleans’s respect for art and culture commanded my respect. How do I describe Garden District? Veils climb atop giant trees and street walls, the emerald canopy of trees folds over your head broken by ivory cemeteries, an eclectic array of restaurants and coffee shops, including Starbucks. We ate at the Anatolia Mediterranean Cuisine. It was great.

Coffee in hand, we drove back to Dauphin Island, having rewritten the best birthday memory for my oldest, who will cherish New Orleans forever.

In Conclusion:

So go to New Orleans with your Children. It’s a city surrounded by water, lakes, river, and sea, fighting their mighty forces, and so green. It’s a city worth protecting and preserving.

Next time, we visit the waterfalls of Northeastern Alabama. Stay tuned.

Author Update: My second book is available now at here

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Newsletter

Mars D. Gill’s Wonderful Life

The beauty of life centered around books is it’s easy to overlook mishaps and not perceive life seriously. I released my second book House of Milk and Cheese. While it’s true I bypassed traditional publishing to bring the book straight to the readers, convincing others on the quality of a book is one thing, getting them to read is another. Do we have readers left out there in the world? Do we have people who would bury themselves in a book instead of online social media or streaming?

If you exist and are listening, rather reading this, please find House of Milk and Cheese on Bookshop, Kindle, or Nook. Read and review it. New Indie authors make it on reviews.

My travel tips continue to roll every Wednesday, the next one being on June 2 on New Orleans with Children.

On a personal note, my oldest graduated from elementary school. I remember bringing him home, him weighing at five pounds eight ounces. He had cried the entire way in car seat, letting me know that harnessing in a foreign object is not the same as a mom’s cuddle. People would see him and say, “You baby is so tiny.” And look at him now!

In case you missed the launch of my second book, I am leaving you with these milestone event videos.

Events

Last Travel Blog

House of Milk and Cheese – Released May 8, 2021

Book Cover Reveal

Book Cover

Book Trailer

CONGRATULATIONS TO THE WINNER OF THE LAUNCH OF MY FREE AUTOGRAPHED BOOK!!

Where to buy?

  1. Message me for autographed paperbacks at a discount
  2. Bookshop.org – House of Milk and Cheese (bookshop.org)
  3. Amazon Kindle – House of Milk and Cheese – Kindle edition by Gill, Mars D.. Literature & Fiction Kindle eBooks @ Amazon.com.
  4. Barnes and Nobles: House of Milk and Cheese by Mars D. Gill | NOOK Book (eBook) | Barnes & Noble® (barnesandnoble.com)

New Giveaway

If you share a photo of yours with a book or the book itself (House of Milk and Cheese) or if you leave a review on Amazon.com, share it with me. I announce e-gift card winner on JULY 22, 2O21.

Future Events

I book read every Saturday at 10:30 a.m. CST. Catch me LIVE on Facebook or Youtube.

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Travel

When in Montgomery, Alabama, You Must See This

The National Memorial of Peace and Justice. Civil Rights Memorial and vicinity. Riverwalk

Montgomery. A town easy to love, remember, and admire. This capital town has a charm like no other. History rains down its streets like a black and white film. Here is my list of what you must see when you are here.

1. The National Memorial of Peace and Justice

It is free with informative guides to help you around. Carved into its walls is poetry, arisen from the ashes underground are sculptures, or so it seems.

Days earlier, we had read names of soldiers at USS Alabama and Fort Gaines who served during World War II and the civil war. We had wondered if their descendants proudly visited to see the names shining through the plaques. When the thought about family seeing their relatives’ initials at this memorial crossed my mind, sadness boomed. Broken by state and country, engraved in columns are four thousand and four hundred names of those lynched. As you walk amongst the amber metal columns, regret folds and unfolds: why were there so many names? Why did justice take so long?

2. Downtown Montgomery

Take the easy stroll through downtown Montgomery next. We parked by the Civil Rights Memorial, our first stop. The cherry blossoms swayed overhead as we walked to the first White House of the Confederacy across from their state building. The trek to the Court Square Fountain with sculptures and quotes from Rosa Parks also fits a meal like lunch in one of the many restaurants here like the Irish Pub.

Two blocks away, the Rosa Parks Museum offers tours ranging from forty-five minutes and more with a movie. We bought Rosa Parks biography book for the family and a picture book for my youngest. We then lumbered to Hank Williams Statue leading the footpath under the railway tracks to the Riverfront Park.

3. Riverfront Park

Lastly, to soak in the historic tale of events that shaped America, ponder over the sacrifices of Rosa Parks, who had to eventually move out of Montgomery to Detroit to find a job because she sparked and led revolutionary marches, I simmered under its weight at the riverside park.

Montgomery
Riverfront Park with a Open Concert Stage, Ship, and passing trains

We spent our day well and headed back to Dauphin Island, where we had rented a beach house, just in time for another spectacular sunset. Montgomery shed light on how small I was despite having written HOUSE OF MILK AND CHEESE on the state of race relations in America. My accomplishment was nothing compared to the true heroes, who had to move, die, lose income to bring about equality. We have ways to go, but we are here because of them. Montgomery, well spent!

Announcement: HOUSE OF MILK AND CHEESE is launching early, this weekend, Mother’s Day Weekend, May 8, 2021. Catch me LIVE on YouTube and/or Facebook. If you join, comment to let me know, and you can win a FREE AUTOGRAPHED copy.

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Newsletter

Important Life Landslides. Second Book Launch

What you must win on May 22, 2021?

Letter to you – Book Launch

Dear reader,

I wish your life is an open sky of endless possibilities and dreams. You are healthy and peaceful. I have a promise to deliver to you.

You are cordially invited to the book launch for my second book.

Late last year, I had given you my word that if you subscribe here, you enter a raffle and become the first pair of eyes to read my new book, House of Milk and Cheese.

The time has come: my second book is releasing on May 22, 2021! And I want you to win. Pay attention. This notification is not spam. Please email me your name, email, and an RSVP to attend the launch at bookofdreams.us@gmail.com to officially enter the raffle. I will announce the winner during the launch.

I look forward to hearing from you. You are welcome to tell your friends and show them how they can enter this raffle, too: Subscribe here; Email me; And attend the launch. There will be more than one way to win multiple prizes.

Here are raffle rules to maximize your chances:
  1. Please email me your name, ‘yes’ RSVP, and email address.
  2. Refer a friend. They subscribe here and repeat step one.
  3. When you let me know that you brought a guest along, your name goes into the raffle twice, or as many times you bring someone along.

In the coming weeks, series of live events will begin, including the Book Cover Reveal. I will be LIVE on Facebook and YouTube every Saturday in May at 10:30 a.m. CST (11:30 a.m. EST, 8:30 a.m. PST, 11:00 p.m. IST), culminating in the final launch event on May 22, 2021. And I bring surprise guests, too.

You will get to know me better. But if you engage, I may get to know you well, too. Those who love the idea of spending an afternoon lapping in the arms of a book will appreciate these events. Please spread the word. 

My second promise is the delivery of a story that pulls you away and keeps you reading. House of Milk and Cheese belongs next to your coffee.

Thank you for your continued support. Here’s to dreams that beacon us and keep us working. I wish you success and more.

Your author,
Mars D. Gill

Important Reminders

Open your Eyes, for this World is only a Dream.
– Rumi

House of Milk and Cheese – Preview

Books. Book Launch
An Athlete.  A Therapist.  A Murder.  A Medal.

Siana Singh can run fast; she is just slow in discovering where she belongs, wedged between her traditional Punjabi family and her western beliefs.

Dr. Silverstone is a therapist whose primary purpose has been one of being an exemplary mother but has lost her daughter and her son is in jail. She understands loss well and is eager to help her patient Siana.

An #ownvoices narration of what it is like to be an Asian American immigrant in the US, specifically a Sikh, this story rings true to our modern world.

House of Milk and Cheese is the poignant yet heartwarming story of a young woman whose pursuit of overcoming her demons makes for a nail-biting drama as she realizes . . . 

To seek redemption is to pursue the impossible dream.

Letters from the Queen – debut novel

Amnesiac. Pregnant. Abandoned.

In a women’s shelter in Hawaii, Anna is known by a different name. When she unearths a stash of letters, she wonders if she’s a native or a tourist. On one side, there’s the new life, new love sprouting in Hawaii, on the other is a hollow past indicative of heartbreak and deceit. But not pursuing the truth could cost Anna her life, let alone love.

Alone, the past seems to have abandoned her in a lonely hospital bed with the medical staff and charity workers as her only companions. That’s when she discovers that she is pregnant, too. Perhaps not that alone as she once thought. And a new worry grips her heart. Hawaii is a famous tourist destination: what if she was only visiting here, she would never discover the truth about who she used to be?

It would be easier to move on from it all with Adam, but a stash of letters surface that beckon her despite reluctance to chase deceit and uncomfortable truths. Little does she know, she has no choice and must embark on a fascinating journey, looking into her life, thirty-six-years full, through the eyes of an outsider, just like the readers.

Available on Kindle, Nook, and Smashwords and BOOKSHOP.ORG. Purchase below & support an independent bookstore.

Countdown to Launch

  • 32Days
  • 12Hours
  • 23Minutes
  • 40Seconds

My Events

Write Hive – Be discovered – April 17, 2021
Write Hive – Handling Negativity
Seven Reasons Why You Must Visit Dauphin Islands
Latest blogs – TRAVEL

Catch my travel tips first Wednesday of every month

join me every saturday at 10:30 over live events, learn more about this book, network with me, and meet other authors.

Only for my readers . . .

The third book is about a superstitious scientist, which is tricky because science and superstition don’t mix.

And now an unpublished poem…to be published. Just for you . . .

The Song of the Long-Awaited Spring
The geese glided down and up
Lemony setting sun, loudened by quacks
At our tousling hair and walnut-brown eyes
The trodden road slaked with melted ice.
 
Then goodbye to the winterized
The winds with whale-like whistles
The ice-bathed muddy slush
Tiptoeing around the tea-colored puddles.

Whispered the soaked-in sand
Splattered the icy water into gutters
For the love of tulips’ sways
Never look back, said the looking land.

The chill drank the wind, stiff as steel
Speeding into the drowsy dark
The sun sinking into the arms
Of the shy blushing line of land.

And the moon swarmed out of clouds
Blinking at the flirting spring squalls
So long to the pearly, ivory nothingness
We spray smiles at teasing Spring. 

Important Dates – SAVE THE DATE

Saturday, May 1, 2021, 10:30 a.m. CST – Special Guest Live Conversation

Saturday, May 8, 2021, 10:30 a.m. CST – Mothers Day Weekend BOOK COVER REVEAL

Saturday, May 15, 2021, 10:30 a.m. CST – Surprise topic

Saturday, May 22, 2021, , 10:30 a.m. CST – THE BIG LAUNCH DAY.

As you can tell, I am thrilled, relieved, and psyched. Giving birth to a book that bakes for four years, borrows from multiple conferences and reviews, is like removing an organ from the body. You worry if the world will understand: Root for “her.” Love her. She is Siana Singh, the rebellious daughter who has to learn about her place in the world, her family, and her country.
I was honored to give an interview at work to the PMO group in Allstate on my writing journey. I have written since ninth grade, but it wasn’t until 2016 books rose from planted seeds. Avid reader, a budding Nanowrimo writer, I complete a rough draft of a book in four weeks. I wrote three books in quick succession. Madness rained hard. Editing? Years swallowed me whole. A journey, four years in the making, is culminating, leaving me excited.
Please do not forget to email me your details, so I can add you to the raffle and see you on May 22, 2021, if not before. I leave you with a teaser. Turn on the volume.

Categories
Travel

Seven Reasons Why You Must Visit Dauphin Island Now

Historic Town. Secluded White Sand Beaches. Bellingrath Gardens.

Affectionately called the unluckiest island in America, compared to Earth’s other endangered spaces like the Glacier National Park, Dauphin Island hides its secrets close to its chest. When you step into the island, your imagination can smell the gunpowder from the civil war, feel it in the swells of the air that this place has seen and endured. An island unlike any other we had been to before, here is why you, too, should experience its uniqueness:

1. History and Fort Gaines
“Damn the Torpedoes” are the famous words sculpted into the walls of Fort Gaines. French Louisiana Territory’s capital, ruled by so many nations: French, British, Spanish, the island has seen the vessels of slaves docking at its harbors, the US navy winning the civil war against the confederate ships at sea, the soldiers treading its cobbled paths during World War II. Repeatedly battered by hurricanes that have threatened its existence, stories ring from its shores. Hurricane Katrina destroyed 450 of the 500 homes of the west end sixteen years after hurricane Frederic destroyed the bridge connecting it to the mainland. Now with a fancy rebuilt bridge and new homes, the island symbolizes resilience. Our newly built, modern rental had the fresh wood smell intact, overlooking the bridge and quieter northern side of the island. Away from the strip, an elementary school slows the traffic, the vegetation thickens. Giant trees sprawl the landscape, rekindling the memory of greenery known to Hawaii. For Fort Gaines, reserve an hour. Ferries run between Fort Gaines and Fort Morgan on the other side of the bay.


2. Wildlife and Audubon Bird Sanctuary
Dauphin Island provides the first rest stop for birds crossing the oceans, why it has so many bird sanctuaries. On one evening, rain and wind slapped both shores, sealing us at home over a Kahoot game and lavish dinner when the pelicans swooped and sailed over the turbulent sea. They seemed so comfortable in the arms of the storm.
Audubon Bird Sanctuary: We visited the Audubon Bird Sanctuary on another evening to gain more steps. A rooster greeted us at the well-shaded parking lot and trail. Though we didn’t catch an alligator, we spotted bright lemony birds and countless turtles in the lake. The prevalent serenity grows a prayer in your heart and calms your spirit. The trail leads to a south-facing beach where my children’s unfettered enthusiasm broke into high jumps, tall sandy mounds, deep canyons, and endless giggles. And I discovered my second book’s title as my fingers bowed to the evening sun and wrote House of Milk and Cheese on the sand.
You can walk across the trails in a half-hour, but I recommend an hour to two here to relax. I understand now why the residents and the mayor is protective of this oasis. We, too, can protect Dauphin Island’s vulnerable shores by reducing our footprint on the environment and slowing the raging oceans.

3. Origin and Indian Shell Mound Park
Did you know that Dauphin Island was once called the Massacre Island? When the founder of French Louisiana Territory first discovered the island, he stumbled across skeletons and named it the Massacre Island. But not a blood bath a Mississippian burial mound had broken open from a hurricane. So they rightly renamed the island to Dauphin, which not only rhymes with Dolphin, it means Dolphin in French though the namesake is after Louis XIV’s descendant.
Nonetheless, the Native American burial ground remains on the island. I didn’t see any Teepees or graves, but the park provided another shady, pristine fifteen minute walk through the woods.

4. Escape and the Pristine White Sands
To sink your feet into powdery white sand and leave an imprint, to walk solo uninterrupted for miles, to not slink shoulders, or deflect smoke from a crowd partying on a beach leaves you with a strange sense of ownership. It’s like you own the sand beneath your feet, the breeze on your face, the trees, the pelicans swooping on the water, and the cargo ships sailing into the horizon. The solitude at an island where you can see both sides of the ocean can tear into a spirit, weigh you down with a deep sense of loneliness, and leave you with hours to dwell on life. Experience it, and you will meet yourself on the other side.

5. Flowers and the Bellingrath Gardens
While Dauphin Island provides relaxation from the burnt-out, overworked existence I and my husband lead, the gardens at the mouth of the island sprinkle a dash of sweetness. On the first day, we checked out Fort Gaines in the morning, followed by this stop. I learned that Bellingrath was the first Coco-Cola bottler in the area. He has left behind his mansion featuring fancy china that we didn’t see from the inside. But the gardens delight with the Fowl River, Bamboo trees, lakes, and endless sprays of color. Two hours fit neatly here though you can spend the entire day. The leisure stroll will make you hungry, so plan accordingly.

6. Food and Mobile, Alabama
You can’t miss Mobile if visiting Dauphin. USS Alabama, the plazas for Spain, UK, Dauphin Street, Church Street, the fountains, and emerald parks are a hallmark of Mobile. It’s possible to see this in one day. USS Alabama stop, which features the warship and the submarine, requires at least 2-3 hours. When at Dauphin street, try the cappuccino and Mango smoothie from Serda Coffee and Blackened Chicken Alfredo from Wintzells Oyster House. Food options are endless in Mobile. If in the mood for Indian, Biriyani Pot didn’t disappoint. Their daal and biriyani were good.

7. Location. Location. Location.
 
Dauphin Island’s location is an ideal distance away from Mobile, Bamahenge, and surrounding sculptures, Montgomery, and New Orleans to plan day trips. The island runs east to west, which allows for laidback sunset and sunrise, lining each side of the day.

So visit this gem. I leave with a few tips if you make it here. A gas station and series of restaurants are present on the island. But check their hours as the island exudes a laidback culture. You can find simple items like pizza and black coffee in the evening, but the breakfast places with specialty warm beverages shut early. Before taking the ferry, please check their Facebook page. They can quite frequently cancel rides owing to weather or inspections. But we made it on our third attempt after confirming online. The ferry accommodates about eighteen cars on a first-come-first-served basis. Arrive twenty to thirty minutes early at a minimum. That’s all I have on Dauphin Island. Next time, we travel to Montgomery.

House of Milk and Cheese is coming out on May 22nd. I hope you can join the launch and win the raffle.

Categories
Travel

When in Northern Alabama, See This

Tennessee River. Rocket Center. Ave Maria Grotto.

For spring break, we searched for a place where we could inhale the ocean salts but not sink into the crowds known to, say, Florida. The state of Alabama had never settled into a tourist destination in my head before. With this blog and next, I wish to help fellow travelers like me to find their “far from the maddening crowd” in Alabama. Today’s focus is the northern part of the state, touching Tennessee, which we haunted not too far ago.

Athens, Alabama

Tennessee River cuts through this small town, surprisingly equipped with coffee and restaurants like Atlanta bread, etc. Toward East is unbroken development until Huntsville. But fifteen minutes west of Athens, the buildings shed into sleepy farmlands, the cattle grazing over dark violet wildflowers, and the Wheeler Reservoir cultivates a habitat for birds, their songs ringing through the night. We stayed at an Airbnb on the reservoir. The view delivered its promise but not the home. Nonetheless, break that cycle of the daily grind. Come here. And relearn how to fill time with absolutely nothing, just the hum of hummingbirds, the body of sun over the water, and the carpet of purple over emerald.

Rocket Center

As you enter “Sweet Home Alabama,” a stationary rocket soars the skies. This destination is Alabama’s most widely known stop. And for nerds like me with sons like mine who fantasize about outer space, it will not disappoint. Its hours of operation between 10 a.m. and 4/5 p.m. (depending on the day) dictated we begin our day here. The lines form fifteen minutes before opening. Most visitors had booked their tickets online, but somehow, we lucked out. Not only did we gain entry, but we also beat the line. For our final destination, six hours away, ten o’clock was a late start, and the lines imperiled not only the time-crunched itinerary but the covid-weary minds as well. Everyone wore a mask. Rest assured, most of the attractions are outside, our worries ebbing in minutes.

Inside, the lunar tale, the launch capsules, the Saturn 5 rocket, the spaceships, and the ISS replica will deliver the geek fix, export you to history and the future at once. Reserve two hours for a relaxing trip to read and learn though you can comb the area in one hour.

Ave Maria Grotto

An hour south of the Rocket Center, away from the bustling, developed university town of Huntsville (falling right on our route,) is a place named Cullman, Alabama. While I am not religious or share the same religion as Brother Joseph, but this stop is for all and a must-see. It showcases outdoor cities worth of sculptures from around the world—Jerusalem, Spain, Italy, Vatican City, France, Brazil, Babylon from various periods. The precision of every rock, every glass will not only allow your legs the welcome outdoor stroll they need, but it will also mesmerize your soul with the record of events. The self-guided tour begins and ends in the gift shop, filling fifteen minutes to a half-hour with a world history tour.

My Alabama blogs will show how the state offers a diverse palate of destinations keeping the adults and children motivated, learning, and loving. After the Ave Maria Grotto, our final stop was the state’s southernmost island town named after the heir to the French throne, Louis XIV’s great-grandson, once Louisiana Territory’s capital, Dauphin Island.

Categories
inspiring non-fiction

The Distance Between Us – My Interview With Dr. Nijher

We all have our days of reckoning: the day we are born, the day we realize who we are. For Dr. Navinder Nijher, it took two days for the latter. Unlike me and my friends, who remember 9/11 through the TV images, through our interactions with our distant locales, Dr. Nijher was on ground zero. Securing in body bags, his team collected torsos, arms of people who had jumped off the skyscrapers. To save a life from debris, they made life and death decisions like whether to chop a limb or wait for equipment. Stationed in the American Express Center with oxygen tanks and other supplies, they watched and worried about additional structures collapsing. Dr. Nijher had seen trauma before, such as gunshots. “But those victims still had their skin tone. Here, everyone was the same color.” Ashy. A weeping firefighter handed them his friend’s body in a bag and lunged back into the smoke. He refused their care, focused on helping others. Dr. Nijher never saw him again.

Dr. Nijher

That day, he was a doctor, a hero in scrubs, a colorless physician volunteer, who hitched a midnight ride via a boat to his hospital in Brooklyn, not home. Another on-call day later, he reached home past one in the night. In the morning, his roommate refused to let him leave without accompanying him. Strange, he thought. A day ago, he had cleaned open wounds at ground zero in what resembled a nuclear war zone. Why would he need protection from his roommate? Dr. Nijher hadn’t absorbed the news cycle that had fastened to the TVs across the globe.

He didn’t realize not only did he carry the weight of sights and sounds, the bloody flesh’s nauseous smell, but also the turban over his head. Undeterred and unable to let go, he snapped the aftermath pictures. Today, not in his scrubs, an average American wounded by the 9/11 trauma, he grasped the change when he stood across the attendant inside a gift shop.

When he asked the price to develop his camera roll in one hour, the shopkeeper retorted. “For you people, five hundred dollars.”

People filled the streets. They yelled Osama at Dr. Nijher. Two days. They differed as night and day, reckoning Dr. Nijher about who he was and who he wanted to be, the boy who grew up in the mountains of New York tucked far away from the Sikh community but protected inside his home’s bubble. He gave interviews, appeared in Newsweek, and crossed the country, speaking. Because that is who Dr. Nijher is: a hero.

I asked him today, twenty years later, have we healed as a nation? Do we know one another better? His calm and pragmatic response stunned me. Not quite. Dr. Nijher blames the lack of information for it. After 9/11, the Sikh community has outreached across the aisle better, but not enough, limiting it to the population centers. But where he lives, in Florida’s red rural county, north of Orlando—deep Trump country—there’s more work left, which doesn’t involve going from his gated community to the hospital or attending the Gurudwara every Sunday. Instead, we must better integrate with those who don’t know us or fear us. That doesn’t involve educating people or holding seminars for like-minded individuals, rather penetrating the very fabric of America through institutions like schools, sports, charities, local boards. Don’t live a disconnected life. Dr. Nijher coaches a sports team, which avails him with opportunities to do just that, break the stereotype, break the victim mentality, and assume responsibility for our American lives.

I thank Dr. Nijher for being willing to talk to me as I collected real-life stories on what it’s like to be a Sikh in post 9/11 America. While he hasn’t read my book, and this is not an endorsement, Land of Dreams, my upcoming fiction book, has provided an outlet for me as I delved into our divides. To diminish our distances is to reach across the aisle and learn about one another.

Releasing this June, my book House of Milk and Cheese (originally Land of Dreams) is an #ownvoices narration about growing up in an immigrant Sikh family in post 9/11 America. Subscribe at www.bookofdreams.us to win a FREE copy.

Image by Marisa04 from Pixabay 
image source – Ivanovgood from pixabay

Categories
Childrens non-fiction

The Truth About Santa Claus

Moist tremors awoke me a few moons ago. An abrupt awakening removed from our awareness of our own body, from the life we have built at a time when only the soul stridulates in the arms of an imagined dream or a nightmare, is alarming. At that hour when your mind hasn’t bound to your human body, and you jump back into it, a question percolates: for how long? How long do you have in your body, which enables you to kiss those you so love for so short? A rude reminder echoes that one day our life will end without knowing how deep the separation or the memory. You coax yourself that it was just a nightmare, only a night, and after you lull yourself to sleep, a new day will begin. It does.

And then I tell my children what I tell myself: I don’t know if they exist: Santa Claus or tooth fairies or any magical creatures they believe. But it isn’t until the darkness of the inky blind night you force yourself to ponder on life on the other side, the unseen world. Our life is a speck in the spectrum of the unknown. The unseen is more than us. So, maybe Santa Claus is real. Maybe fairies fill the eternal world. Life on Earth is attached to our bodies for a limited time. We live at different times, but memories carry, or so we hope. There has got to be magic if there is God. So why not Santa Claus?

I don’t lie to my children anymore that unseen is unreal. It is more permanent than real. Dreams are true.

My forthcoming book, House of Milk and Cheese (originally Land of Dreams), is about such dreams, unseen but unrealized, that need a fight, first to believe, then to realize. Stay tuned at www.bookofdreams.us for more on its release. If you subscribe , you enter a raffle for a chance of a free copy during the book launch.

Previous blogs on the Book Launch Series: The World Behind Words

The Boy With a Strange Hat

Myriams-Fotos image from Pixabay 

Categories
Newsletter

Book of Dreams (Mars D. Gill) Newsletter – Dec 31, 2020

Notable Dates

Jan 31, 2021
Land of Dreams Announcement

Land of Dreams sneak peek.

Gentle Reminder
For my blogs and newsletters, click on the follow button here at www.bookofdreams.us. and subscribe.

Books

LETTERS FROM THE QUEEN

NOOKSmashwords

Amazon

Mars D. Gill News

The magic of a New Year comes with a promise to start a new journey, write a different story, and change our trajectories. It’s a reset to bad habits.

I find myself pondering the secrets of life and reflecting on 2020–when our lives screeched to a halt, when we disagreed loudly and passionately.

And how did it all begin?

We spent New Years’ in Cancun with my sister’s family. I learned in 2020 that I had aged. The realization wasn’t gradual: it was abrupt. That leads me to my lesson number one.

1. Health is Wealth

I fell sick in Cancun. Again, when we traveled to Montana. Then, when we visited Pennsylvania—the typical viral infections. The awareness that I hadn’t taken one vacation where I hadn’t fallen sick perturbed me. Working from home further exacerbated my neck. So I’m popping vitamins to increase immunity. By the year-end, my local gym had adapted to COVID-19 and posted exercise videos online. We are hitting the living room floor now.

2021 resolution #1: Next vacation, I will avoid even a runny nose.

After we returned from Cancun, two birthday parties took the reins of my life: for my littlest and my oldest, who was plunging into double digits in March with an overly-planned Harry-Potter-themed family affair.

On February 29, 2020, I didn’t realize I had hosted the year’s last birthday party at my home over home-cooked food and the movie Frozen 2. It’s a fond memory in hindsight.

By March, the stores ran out of toilet papers. I called the BIG March party invitees, assuring them hand sanitizers would be abundant, etc. A few days later, I canceled the party as schools shut down, too. Mischief managed. Reality started to sink in that the pandemic was real. Our lives were to be changed by an invisible, barely alive virus. Lesson number two:

2. The Most Important Human Need is Love

A state of perpetual search gripped me two months into the lockdown, as though something critical went missing from my life, not present at home. I had to venture out for it. Same time, something else was transpiring.

We played Hangman, Pictionary and board games to kill time. For the canceled party, we put the banquet hall decorations inside our home. My son video called with classmates, friends, and family—doing everything one did when they were happy and celebrating. It’s impossible to halt life.

The first warm May weekend, we drove to the Mississippi River. We were together with those we loved the most. Nothing else mattered in life. COVID-19 was a skilled master. It revealed who we loved, who loved us, and who didn’t. Lucky were we to be together in love—the most fundamental of all human needs.

2021 resolution #2: Never take people who love me for granted. Not for one second.

Lesson Number three:

3. Life Doesn’t Stop

My heart aches for those who lost loved ones this year. Because the material items like restaurants, stores are recoverable. But life itself isn’t.

Our lives modified. Gigantic cross-country road trip became a single-destination quarantine in a rental. We carried out food.

Memories kept forming. Goals kept beaconing. And then . . .

I self-published my debut novel in May, a milestone in the life of a novice. The lockdown enabled me, not hindered.

My least favorite part of 2021 wasn’t COVID-19.

It was the vitriol, the lies, the deceit, the bullying by the most powerful “men” in America. The election is over, but not the platforms that spread conspiracies including those around the pandemic being a hoax.

How do I maintain my sanity? I focus on my favorite things: my children, ice cream, books, writing, knitting, a feel-good movie, traveling (now modified but not eliminated), a hearty conversation with my best friend, nature, sunsets. The list goes on. This attitude is grounded by the next lesson:

3. Life is Temporary

We forget we live on Earth for a limited time. Everything we accumulate—relationships, parents, children, money, homes, vehicles, knickknacks, memories (why memories, why, God??)—get washed clean. We don’t have an iota about what lies ahead, what exists outside of this dark universe, what shape God has. We know nothing. Yet, instead of humility, we display hubris.

 2021 resolution #3: Never forget how temporary I am. Be humble.

I turned forty in 2020. Via virtual technology, my husband surprised me with messages from across the globe. I found myself satisfied at forty. Despite everything.

Months later, my husband attended a Zoom call with his family and school friends scattered across the globe on his birthday. Humans adapt. Adapting is the key to our survival. Without this hardship, we would have been further apart. In disguise, COVID-19 brought us closer.

Looking forward, traditional or self, my second book, Land of Dreams, is coming out. I believe in this story so much, and it’s my conviction you will love it, too. People say never compare your children. They are unique. But this book is so close to the heart to be not a favorite.

Please stay tuned here for its key dates: Book cover details, the articles, the sneak peeks, and the LAUNCH.

For 2021, I’ll wish for you what I wish for me—a healthy perspective that allows you to live your life to the maximum. Here’s to 2021 . . . to the hope of a better everything.

Today’s Words

No matter how hard the past is, you can always begin again.Budha

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Latest Travel Blog – Pennsylvania

Like cotton candy, the trees had ballooned in rainbow colors, blanketing the mountains and the valleys. I and my family were traversing the COVID-19 year, where our travel and social life had catapulted into an unrecognizable, indefinite end. And our blessings, being the five of us together, propelled us on the road. Our destination was a rural town named Somerset, Pennsylvania. Besides the Fall colors, jutted from the street sides and homes signs of political affiliations—Read More

Latest Publication

Categories
Poetry

It’s Time to Drop the Bag, My Brother

You carry not a giant backpack anymore
Nor those oversized black hand-me-down shoes
You elegantly roam in doctor’s blue scrubs
Performing surgeries, healing heart patients
What about your own heart you leave behind?

You no longer hold my finger to nursery
Or follow me out, unwilling to be left alone
You are fearless and a self-made man
Who needs not a sister, patronizing him on what to do

And yet, I scribble today only for you
Because we teach our children everyday
How to succeed, never how to fail
As you mend your patients’ hearts when they fail
Don’t forget the one you carry inside: your own (your baggage)

Sometimes in life, blessings come as hardships
What feels harsh to accept
May be God speaking to us
For when we fumble, we grow

Your bag of problems may be larger today
Than that giant nursery bag you’d held one day
Drop those problem; let them go
They are not worthy of your soul
Shed the burdens, they deserve not a shard of you

God created all his children, including you
Love yourself when its hard to do
We all make mistakes, we all fall
It’s not a feat only you know how to do

But what if I told you today
Our mistakes are tools through which God speaks
And we discover who are truly ours–and who are not
Would you laugh and dismiss me . . .
If I said it’s important to know your real friends?

For every second we value the wrong
We lose it with those where we truly belong
Count your blessings, and you will find
You have no time left to value the petty

So waste not another second
Pick up the pieces of your life
Recreate that dream that beaconed you
But not with those who failed to see your heart
It’s time for better investments

Drop that bag that was never yours
Bigger, better, bolder, more beautiful
That’s where you are destined to be
That giant bag is petty compared to the places you will see

Categories
Travel

Southwest Pennsylvania: The Colors of Life and Fall

We experienced southwest Pennsylvania in the middle of October 2020 at the peak of Fall.

Like cotton candy, the trees had ballooned in rainbow colors, blanketing the mountains and the valleys. I and my family were traversing the COVID-19 year, where our travel and social life had catapulted into an unrecognizable, indefinite end. And our blessings, being the five of us together, propelled us on the road. Our destination was a rural town named Somerset, Pennsylvania. Besides the Fall colors, jutted from the street sides and homes signs of political affiliations—heavily leaning on one side. For days of us roaming the streets, every dwelling, every shop flew Trump flags, building covers, yard signs, some mocking the President’s challenger with eye-popping insults. Loud honking processions cut off roads and changed our plans in an ostentatious display of allegiance.

Frankly, we weren’t here to observe and report on politics. We expect the same from any getaway—to forget our ailments and embrace the novelty of new scenes, new people, and local food—even in election year.

Luckily, the natural beauty delivered on its promise.

With the vibrant colors, we drifted to the Rock City, where we crawled deep into the hilly crevices; a carpet of leaves painted our paths orange, and red, yellow, green, brown covered our heads—our favorite hike in Cooper’s Rock State Park of West Virginia.

Our second favorite was the hike from the parking lot to the falls in McConnells Mill State Park in Pennsylvania. There’s something peaceful about sitting next to a whispering river reflecting yellow leaves, with tree droppings floating by.

A vast majority of our time, we spent quarantining in our beautiful rental home atop the Hidden Valley. Children played with new toys. Their excitement showed they were just like adults—excited about novelty.

After four days of Fall photography and rest, we returned home to an uncertain future. I was editing Land of Dreams, readying it for a final beta review. The precarious future didn’t fool us this time into thinking things would get better. A month later, though, it got better—about 156 million people voted. Both sides showed up. And democracy worked. Life’s seldom about winning. It’s about getting your voice heard and feel like you matter. The election is over. Life carries on. And there is the hope of the next vacation, next outlet.

If you like this, please subscribe (click on the follow button in the lower right corner) with your email. Www.bookofdreams.us. And enter a RAFFLE to win my upcoming book, Land of Dreams.

Categories
Travel

#7. From Dawn to Dusk: Chasing Memories. The Way Home

Home was twenty-two hours East of Montana.

At six in the morning, we pulled out of our condo that had sheltered us for five nights. Dawn fulfilled its promise of vibrant colors through the drive out of Anaconda to Butte where we stopped for coffee and breakfast.

We drove under floating hot air balloons, by the babbling Yellowstone River to our unscheduled bathroom stop at a Rest Area which turned out to be a humble dose of history on Bozeman Trail where local tribes killed a traveling father and son while they camped.

As we left Montana and ventured deeper into the Northern Cheyenne reservation, fast moving motorcycles appeared. They stayed with us to the suburb of Rapid City where we refueled, wondering where the motorcycles were headed. That night as we called it a night at Chamberlain, SD, overlooking the Missouri River from our hotel on a hill, the motorcyclists, more than 400, 000 of them, converged in Sturgis, SD, a city we had crossed on the way. Later, on September 2, 2020, first Covid-19 death was reported from that event. At least 260 cases (those who agreed to testing) countrywide contracted covid from here. It was surreal to realize how close we had gotten ourselves to them. Not that we are the types to ignore medical professionals. But we were on the road. To be free, you must be alive, a concept lost to some.

We had stopped in the evening at the Chapel in the Hills located in Rapid City, not too far from Sturgis.

Next morning, with breakfast to go, we set our eyes on our home and drove east. Our pit stop today was at the Sioux Falls, SD.

We made it home in daylight. I wish I remembered what I felt, what we spoke about, but all I knew was we were home. We were lucky. We were blessed. Thank you, God, for giving me a perspective to see so much beauty and live this life.

This marks the final blog in the “Chasing Memories” series to Montana. If you like this, please subscribe (click on follow button in lower right corner) with your email here at www.bookofdreams.us. You will automatically enter a RAFFLE to win my upcoming book, Land of Dreams.

Categories
Travel

#6. From Dawn to Dusk: Chasing Memories. Gates of Mountains

The last full day in Montana descended upon us.

Today, we drove north via Helena to Canyon Ferry Lake where children played on its rocky shores. When I spotted a golden snake behind a boulder while trying to find a place to sit, the children unwilling to leave hopped back into the car. Unintended catalyst but intended outcome.

Our last Lewis and Clark spot involved the Gates of Mountains where boat tours left at the top of the hour, none carrying us, only fifty other brave souls. Since no private tours were offered, we snapped a photo and left. Gates of the Mountains marks the place where the Lewis and Clark journey, sailing west on Missouri River, ended when they hit the Rockies. They termed the range as Gates of Mountains to signify their impenetrable force.

We returned to our rental well in time today via McDonald Pass where the thunderous new look of the Georgetown Lake graced us. We packed and loaded our car, and I buried myself reading two books: Eleanor Oliphant is Completely Fine and Sin and Syntax.

All journeys end. Last year we had ended our diverse vacation to UK (England, Wales, Scotland) and Iceland. Despite it being one of our best trips, we were ready to return from it. Montana felt short—too short. I wanted to linger in its valleys. It had slipped between my fingers like a movie that ended prematurely.  And the future was as precarious as ever. But I’d to return to nipping and budding of my forthcoming book: Land of Dreams. And this writer had refilled her chest of imagination, inspiration, thanks to the big sky country of Montana.

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Categories
Travel

#5. From Dawn to Dusk: Chasing Memories. The Big Sky

Day five began with another colorful and peaceful dawn.

Today we drove on a dusty road to the shimmering, green Wade Lake where the children stood in its lapping waves; the pebbled shore massaged our feet; and people in kayaks floated on its waters. The lake was so still reflecting mountains in its depths that we, too, stole a few precious moments to reflect and ponder.

The drive to Big Sky featured the Earthquake lake where burnt trees stumps jutted from its surface, and the Madison River that roared from the cliff below. When we reached the restaurant inside a golf course, where our order was ready for pickup, not one customer dined in their outside patio, and every worker and customer wore a face mask, even their mannequins. We gleefully grabbed an outside table and dined out for the first time since March in the quaint valley of Big Sky. I wish I had remembered the last restaurant we ate at before covid. But still, this experience was precious, precious, precious.

Our last stop involved hiking to the ousel falls. Along the babbling river, we walked with our face masks on, on the crowded trail, carrying an awareness inside our hearts: this was the last hike, the last activity of our trip. The future reeled in the throws of a pandemic during an election year. Nothing was certain. One truth defined our present moment: our existence, our thoughts, our love for one another, and our ability to place the happiness of each other over our own—the secret sauce of happiness is in breaking the self-involved outlook and gain empathy for others’ feelings. When I became a mother, I learned to truly give and that made me happy. Those unhappy often complain about how they are treated, how they should be treated, etc. And it’s easy for anyone to fall into that trap. So I hang on to this realization close to my heart. Our vacation would end soon but better not our love.

Ousel Falls – Big Sky, MT

The drive back along another gushing river delivered an ointment to old wounds, rejuvenated the spirit, and prepared us to face life again. Tomorrow would be our last day in Montana before we ventured back east to the place we call home: Chicago, IL

Categories
Travel

#4. From Dawn to Dusk: Chasing Memories. To Idaho

We were sailing the most peaceful segment of our week-long, socially-distant getaway. Two books overtook the reins of my mind every free second—when I wasn’t driving the car or before I fell asleep at night. Idleness had found an objective. No worry seeped into an absorbed mind.

We drove south toward Idaho this morning, starting the most historic, the most scenic drive, also my favorite day of our vacation. Mountains enlarged beyond Wisdom, Montana when our cherished companion, the babbling, whispering, and calming Salmon river, joined our journey, leering at us through the window, forcing us to make unscheduled stops along the road.

Our first formal destination involved learning about Sacajawea while walking this picturesque museum’s “outside trail” at Salmon, Idaho: featuring tipis, outdoor schools, and above everything else, Sacajawea. At a time riddled with wars and bloodshed, massacres and deep mistrust, the young, free-spirited, native American woman, mother of an infant, formed deep friendship with Lewis and helped complete their voyage from North Dakota to the Pacific Ocean. Lewis and Clark sailed on Missouri river based on the conviction it would flow into the Pacific until they hit the Rockies. They termed the Rockies Gates of Mountain because they were impenetrable. Sacajawea helped serving as a messenger and a translator with the local Indian tribes. Two tales circulate on Wikipedia, only one the museum believed from the Lewis and Clark journals, which claims Sacajawea died at the tender age of twenty-five years from an infection she protracted during childbirth. The signed adoption papers for her infant to Lewis and the journal serve as proof. The museum shunned other stories that she escaped an unhappy, arranged marriage and lived a long life till the age of ninety-five because she wouldn’t abandon her children.

After appreciating the efforts to preserve this precious sliver of history, we set camp at the Salmon river and ate lunch. I even recorded its whispers forever in a video. I wish we could make it all the way to Stanley, Idaho, but restfulness (along with wandering) was our supreme goal. So, we turned around midway to Challis and headed to Lemhi Pass up a gravel mountain, another Lewis and Clark stop, a trading post where they had camped and written into their journal. Not a soul accompanied the five of us atop the Lemhi Pass allowing us a strangely peaceful, quietly breezy, and blatantly ginormous three-sixty-degree view of the region.

A dust cloud flew behind our car, the mud coating our rearview window, as we drove on gravel toward Montana—the sights, the lakes, the mountains, I’ll not even attempt to describe. Let’s leave it at: we absorbed stories from years ago, idled in pristine nature, and refilled our hearts with purpose.

Back at Anaconda, we helped ourselves to pancakes and scrambled eggs for dinner. Hey, it’s our vacation; we’ll flip it as we wish.

The next morning, I’d worry about a vacation shortening with each breathing second; I’d worry about my never-ending mistakes, but today was prebooked by worry-free, untainted memories in the making.

Trivia:

Thomas Jefferson had sent Lewis and Clark to explore the west in order to expand. He’d asked congress for $2500; records indicate about $50, 000 was the actual expenditure.

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non-fiction

Forty!

I turned forty today. Significance of forty? My cousin grounded me humorously about new aches and pains of the forties. Same reminder I inferred when the sale pitches for anti-aging products poured in—I was aging, only young in my heart and imagination. But perhaps “wiser” will be an accurate assessment of forty. One lesson I learned the past weekend is the expression of love is probably as important if not more than love itself.

And my lesson at forty is: never assume people you care about know how much you love them, how you love them just because you put food on the table or married someone or have play dates together or you call them mamma or papa. Love needs to be put into words, beaded into actions, harnessed into a force for it to exert its influence. Unless you do, in dullness, love hides, overwritten by busy routines, shrouded by misunderstandings and external circumstances.

When my mum asked me last week how I planned to spend my fortieth, I casually responded to her: I will pass my day with no mention. Why? I’d been too busy in my life to reflect. So was my husband. I was a person who had lived long enough to rationalize I’d back to back meetings the entire day—in other words, I was too busy to celebrate.

But last Sunday, when I talked on the phone, I saw my husband rolling dough in the kitchen. I panicked because he never did that. That was my job. All he said was change; we have company soon. I didn’t have time to question him, knowing I didn’t want to look like a freight train had rolled over me in front of people. I changed bedsheets when one of our friends joined us in the backyard, then our relatives trickled in, shouting surprise! And I shed COVID rules and hugged them. I needed one after months of zoom and social distancing.

Under the breezy, pleasant umbrella of trees, we sat and chatted. My aunt had baked a cake; my husband had cooked, and then he outdid himself: he surprised me with a compilation of messages, messages that had me, an author, speechless. Special occasions have a strange way of showing who your true friends are. So, I want to take a moment and thank: Mamma, Papa, Jasmine – my best friend, Taya, Tayi, Big Taya, Big Tayi, Ma, Rumana aunty, Mukhtar uncle, my cousins Niti, Raman, Ayesha, Roopa, Manu and Aman, and my sister, Gultaj, my nephews, Harpreet and Sartaj, my brothers, my children, and last but not least, my husband, who pulled this together. You took the time out of your day for me, and because of you, I now have words of love and care I hadn’t before, because of you, my day didn’t pass without a mention; it became the world’s best canopy of love, the kind that protects you from all that is bad with this world.

Thank you!

Categories
Newsletter

Book of Dreams (Mars D. Gill) Newsletter – Aug 31, 2020

Upcoming Events

Look out for the launch of my forthcoming book: Land of Dreams. Here’s a sneak peek.

Gentle Reminder

Every Friday I travel blog, right here on www.bookofdreams.us. Please subscribe to my blogs and newsletter to stay connected with me.

Mars D. Gill News

After publishing my debut Romance Suspense, Letters from the Queen, on May 17, 2020 on Kindle and amazon, it’s distribution has been now expanded to NOOK, Smashwords, and ImgramSparks for bulk orders (if you are a bookstore, great discounts for bulk print copies).

Buy on AMAZON!

On Smashwords

FORTY!

I turn forty tomorrow. Significance of forty? My cousin grounded me humorously about new aches and pains of the forties. Long before today, I got pulled into an anti-aging sales meetup, a reminder I was aging, only young in my heart and imagination. But perhaps wiser will be an accurate assessment of forty. One lesson I learned as late as the past weekend that I hadn’t ten years ago is the expression of love is probably as important if not more than love itself.

And my lesson at forty is: never assume people you care about know how much you love them, how you love them just because you put food on the table or married someone or have play dates together or you call them mamma or papa. Love needs to be put into words, beaded into actions, harnessed into a force for it to exert its influence. Unless you do, in dullness, love hides, overwritten by busy routines, shrouded by misunderstandings and external circumstances. More on it tomorrow. Please subscribe.

Today’s Words

Celebrate the people in your life who are there because they love you for no other reason than because you are YOU.Mandy Hale, The Single Woman: Life, Love, and a Dash of Sass

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Categories
Travel

#3. From Dawn to Dusk: Chasing Memories. Our Socially Distant Getaway

Happiness, define it? It’s in the wetness my children’s kisses leave on my face, in their smiles, in a book, in a meadow . . . When I canvased Montana’s vast expanse, a question tugged on my heart. What would it be like to live in a solitary home on a hill or by a stream or on a prairie? Would that be happier than happiest my children make me? I don’t know because a lucky person like me mustn’t ask for more. I cherish what each day gives me.

Today, Montana gave us its rural beauty through a gravel-filled scenic byway.

Children had had just enough time for breakfast and “rock climbing,” which is a fancy word for maneuvering around the rental lined by boulders, small in reality but large in imagination. When children imagine, a three-dimensional play unfolds.

And they had had just enough time for one other important act. That day was Rakhi. During India’s Rakhi festival, a brother and sister celebrate their bond by exchanging bracelets and prayers. Our morning began with this wonderful, tender act. My boys are lucky to have a bubbling, happy sister like Dua, which also means a blessing.

Then my littlest said to me, “Mamma, I want a superhero adventure and climb a mountain.”

Now that’s not an average four-year-old request. I’d to deliver.

We left our rental’s embrace and wandered into the wild, losing ourselves. Literally speaking.

So we entered Fuse Lake into our phones moments before we lost signal on an unpaved byway. Preloaded GPS directed us deeper into a narrower gravel road. And although it stretched a meager two miles, we drove for almost a half hour. The tiny road took a solid commitment because turning around was impossible. At the end, no parking lot, no sign flashed us a welcome, a sure clue that we were lost. Coated with mosquito repellents, we embarked on foot, feeling robbed of a destination to not be able to consummate the fling after risking our car through the big boulders. Hundred feet in, the trail split three ways without a trail sign. I pointed my cell and picked one based on the lake’s location on the map and did so on every split from there on then until we hit a mountain.

Then, I widened my eyes at my youngest. “Look, superhero adventure!”

That was it. He swung his arms, bobbed around branches, and led us up until my husband put down his foot. Separated from us by miles, Fuse Lake could be two mountains away. So I wish I could edit my story and say, we did it. But no, we suspended our heads and considered ourselves lucky to find our car. When we hit the main gravel road, a car zipped past us and into a clearing with a big sign, “Fuse Lake Trailhead”! Truth be told, our superhero adventure had tired me a little. We shook our heads and skipped the hike.

Still holding signal-less phones, we reached the roadside Skalkaho Falls, also the scenic byway’s name. We spent moments here, children climbing and rolling on the muddy hillside, the water slamming against the rocks, the cool, fresh water droplets coating joy on my face.

Next, we visited Montana’s Lake Como. From the car when we canvased the mask-less crowd on the beach and in the water, we delivered disappointment to our children. Away from the beach, we walked to an edge to snap a picture. For the little hearts who wanted to swim and splash, the photo-op was like leering a coffee addict with hot, bubbling beverage but disallowing a sip. They got over it.

The drive back to our rental on the scenic loop was beyond words. With lunch packed from home and drive-through coffee from a town named Sula, we crossed the Big Hole National Battlefield. Acres and acres expanded until wrinkly mountains carved the horizon. Countless cows grazed in the open land, ranch after ranch. As if dropped from the sky, giant-size paintings forming an unreal amalgamation of images, an unbelievable three-dimensional dream, we gawked and clicked photos for proof. But pictures are deceptively two-dimensional. At one point, we stopped the car and sat outside on the grass. Nothing but a river meandered nearby. Cows ran in the pastures like Dolphins hooped in the ocean. Tall, brown grass whistled and rustled. While our clothes slapped against our bodies, an awareness of time and space gripped our conscious. Questions pounded on our soul: Who are we? What does it mean to exist in that moment?

We made it home in time for us to walk across the street to the Lake that shined at us, leered at us through our rental’s glass walls. Carefree vacations should last long and be frequent. That’s all my light and happy heart thought as we wrapped another day in a neat little ball of bliss and allowed dusk to soak us in peace (even if short-lived).

Trivia:

Big Hole National Battlefield marks the location where the Nez Perce fought their largest battle with the US government over a period of five months in 1877.

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Categories
Travel

#2. From Dawn to Dusk: Chasing Memories. To Montana

The clinking of the drapes. A sunrise.  Five mesmerized eyes.

A socially distant vacation

Life’s a big fat experiment. Though no future plans would involve driving through the night, if we hadn’t ever done so, missing from our lives would be spectacular dusk and dawn, badlands, mountain goats, endless deserts, and cramped mountain passes. So I am fuller because of my folly.

After a full night’s sleep in a hotel, we rose in time for another spectacular sunrise through the parking lot. Hello, new day!

DAWN

Today, we planned to head further west, deeper into the Rockies to a quaint valley town named Anaconda, Montana, about eight hours away—a smidgen of what we’d already driven.

We skipped the hotel’s “buffet breakfast” despite it being included in our stay. In the tiny town, only McDonald’s drive-through beamed with cars, offering coffee and breakfast.

The Rockies had reckoned my oldest, and when Buffalo, Wyoming, ended and the Big Horns began, it not only silenced his questions: “Is this mound, this hill, the Rockies?”! but also gave him a sense of a destination. While the journey fascinates, also necessary is the fulfillment of a goal. The delightfully beautiful Big Horns rewarded us with solitude amongst photogenic vistas and the Meadowlark lake. I found myself steepling my hands in gratitude, thankful to be able to enjoy outdoors quietly and safely given the current times. We had stolen these precious moments from the bosom of a powerful pandemic. And when the flowing rivers comforted my spirit, I wondered why. Why did the gushing water’s gurgle that never ebbed, never slept, never tired, deliver tranquility? Is it the security it stays where you leave it, the way you leave it? Or is it because I don’t live next to its roar?

Whatever the case, I stopped editing Land of Dreams, my forthcoming book, that had troubled me plenty. I had brought two books, but I gawked out of my window today. Within an hour, the Big Horns came and passed. We entered a small town named Ten Sleep, Wyoming. One tale suggested it got its name because it took ten sleeps/moons to get here from Fort Laramie.

Had we stayed on US-16 W, we would have hit Lake Yellowstone. But we avoided the popular national park’s concentrated crowds today. Deep country surrounded us north before we stopped at Big Horn Lake by Shoshone river. There, you could hold a conversation with your echo amidst the remote, endless, and scorching landscape. The children succumbed to their iPads before we invested moments of nothingness, just plain old peaceful idleness—a commodity missing from modern life.

When we crossed Joliet, Montana, a small hub of 656 people, a distinct purpose hung in the air. Stalls of Trump souvenirs lined the highway. Home after home pledged their allegiance. Through Montana, South Dakota, and Wisconsin, Trump-labeled roadside trucks, shops appeared without fail. An early indication of momentum and energy?

Post Joliet, the heat climbed to one hundred degrees when I drove the last segment, accompanied by Yellowstone River and freight trains.

We loaded on quick-fix meals from Safeway inside the Historic town in Butte before hitting Hwy 1-N, beginning our final stretch.

Anaconda ranks tenth largest town in the state at 9K population with Butte at number five and Billings at number one. So relatively, we escaped living in a twenty-bodied village. Around the highway, old buildings jutted from the ground—coffee kiosks, gas stations, large grocery stores, pharmacies, etc. Then the newer residential zone began. Crossing Anaconda hurled us into the Lake country, reminding us of last August when we had cut through the Scottish Lochs. A hut perched in the shimmering Silver Lake. Further removed, the Georgetown Lake glittered, and our condo arrived, too. At the ripe hour of seven-thirty, we entered our tiny rental, studded with glass patio doors on all three sides, overlooking Dentons Point at the lake.

After disinfecting and showering, we popped frozen food into the microwave. And when I crashed on bed, fatigue drowned me in its embrace without permission.

Exhausted, yes. But I was alive, I was here, and I was me on a mission called recuperation and rejuvenation.

Ah the blissful coat of deep, dark sleep.

Trivia:

Georgetown Lake is a manmade reservoir created in 1885 to power Phillipsburg and area mining. It got its name when it flooded an area named Georgetown flats.
Shoreline: 17.36 miles. Average depth: 16 feet. Surface area: 2,818.1 acres.

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Categories
Travel

#1. From Dusk to Dawn: Chasing Memories. To Wyoming.

One could argue, it began when we harnessed our suitcases to our minivan’s roof, or you could argue, it sprang in the mind when we fueled our unrest and decided to brave Covid-19, embarking on a road trip unlike any we had undertaken before. Not the original trip we had planned earlier, much shorter, we aimed to drive a thousand miles through the night, cutting west in our minivan. A wild experiment.

First oddity, we couldn’t nap at will before our evening departure. Second, we pulled over twice in our first hour itself because the carrier flaps kept banging on the roof. Coffee in hand, I drove the first shift. Sunset blasted colors onto the open sky. My youngest confirmed multiple times if the Sun would indeed set. And when darkness shrouded our surroundings, he attempted to measure how much time the Sun would take to paint the sky blue again. Luckily, he slept along with the other two.

I found driving on the dark freeway easier than expected, but the heaviness of fatigue, the tightness of the neck muscles, the tingling of the heart manifested reminding us rudely we’d aged—no longer the crazy college graduates who could mimic machines and drive like that, we were gracing the forties. We switched driving around midnight. But when sleep reeled me in, rain pounded on the windscreen. At first, its drum roll comforted me, but soon, another sound mixed in, a crunching, cracking disturbance, anything but a pitter-patter lullaby known to rain. Not a shard of sleep graced my eyes during my “sleep shift” as midnight blended into two in the morning. That’s when we pulled over into a rest area. Our carrier had ripped. While the rain had ceased for good, water seeped inside, and cramped space inside the car offered few opportunities. So I blamed the carrier for my night-driving experiment to bomb.

At the ungodly hour, no stores had doors opened to exchange the broken carrier. Allowed to park for three hours at the rest stop, we could have slept, sure the mountain time zone would grant us an additional hour, and we would reach Badlands at dawn’s first glimmer. But when worry grips the heart, sleep flees. So the second shift driver, aka my husband, pulled out of the rest area without a drop of rest, the carrier still broken, its rip enlarging and its sound menacing. When Sun cut through the horizon, children awoke and fatigue now had crunched my every fiber, every molecule. A yawn, too, couldn’t help. We switched driving at a gas station, and the brilliant, Godly moment of five-forty brought us to Badlands. As the “Orange Sun,” as my youngest terms it, reared its head above Badland’s jagged, rugged, and dusty terrain, my children bubbled with excitement. I learned that despite them, too, realizing we had loathed driving through the night, children adapted to hardships and changes with a flick of an eye.

We folded a seat under in our Pacifica and hauled the overhead luggage into the car cramping my daughter, the rearmost passenger. Through stiffness, we exited badlands. When I pulled into a coffee Kiosk in Rapid City, Alaska’s sweet memory enlightened my heart—the pristine place that had first introduced us to the cute, mini coffee drive-through huts. That cup of coffee, my friends, enabled me to drive my shift without incident to Mount Rushmore (from the outside) and Custer State Park’s Needle Tunnel. When we were there, coincidently, we also heard the news our president dreamed they carved his face next to the current four presidents on Mt. Rushmore, and I thought about Crazy Horse, the Native American hero (from Black Hills,) his monument, still incomplete due to no funding.

So our wakeful night driving on I-90 West had passed. When my husband began driving the last shift, the car’s hum resembled an airplane’s growl as though carrying me across the globe to India. As South Dakota’s Black Hills receded and Wyoming’s dull desert loomed, the temperature hit late nineties, and the air conditioner fell short of comfort. Long sighs, whines from children, and my straight face carried us to our hotel at two o’clock of the afternoon at Buffalo, Wyoming. Our duration of being on the road lasted from 5:15 p.m. the previous evening to 2:45 p.m. CST that Saturday. We thanked our stars for the early check in, disinfected the room, stripped their comforters (we brought our own), showered, and crashed like no tomorrow existed. We awoke to eat our preordered pizza—a faint memory—because we slept right afterward, only a fresh sunrise awakened us the next morning.

Trivia:

Buffalo, Wyoming. Population ~ 9000 (Similar to our tiny Chicago Suburb but a fraction of neighboring suburbs like Palatine, Schaumburg, IL.)

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Categories
inspiring writing

My Interview with K. M. Weiland

K.M. Weiland lives in make-believe worlds, talks to imaginary friends, and survives primarily on chocolate truffles and espresso. She is the award-winning and internationally-published author of Outlining Your Novel, Structuring Your Novel, and Creating Character Arcs. A native of western Nebraska, she writes historical and speculative fiction and mentors authors on her award-winning website Helping Writers Become Authors.

K. M. Weiland answered five questions for me. Here they are:

1. You have written both nonfiction and fiction. Does your success with nonfiction books like Outlining your Novel and Structuring Your Novel help you as a fiction writer? Does it carry some cons, too?

Definitely helps. My teachings on writing have all grown out of my own journey of developing and deepening my technique for writing my own novels. Writing articles and books about those techniques has forced me to solidify my understanding of concepts in ways I doubt I would have done without the opportunity of teaching others. If it creates any cons, it’s probably just the pressure of trying to live up to my advice!

2. How do you balance personal life with your consistent social media presence  and writing? Let me elaborate. Social media and writing are addicting. (especially for moms like me–I have three little ones at home), how do you compartmentalize your life?

I am adamant about not allowing technology—specifically, the Internet—to rule my life. It’s a necessary, and often wonderful tool, but it can easily become a harsh master. Still, that’s easier said than done.

I start by scheduling the time I spend reading or communicating on social media. Then two particular tricks I use to control how much I’m on the Internet are:

  • I turn the Internet off at night and leave it off throughout the morning, which is my writing time.
  • I keep my phone in a different room and turn it off when I’m trying to concentrate.

3. What about writing do you find as most challenging?

Uh, everything? 🙂 But, seriously, a major Achilles’ heel I continually struggle with is creating authentic antagonistic motivations. Since this is what drives the conflict and the plot, it can cause me no end of trouble. I’ve gotten much better at it, but feel like I have a long way to go.

4. In your experience, what’s the most common mistake new authors make?

I hesitate to call it a mistake, since I think it’s something we all have to learn as we go, but I’d say not recognizing that sound story structure is what makes a story run—especially when you use it to not just construct your plot, but to harmonize character arcs and theme.

5. What’s the coolest thing about calling Nebraska a home? 🙂

I’m actually in Missouri right now. But I miss the West a lot. Right now, what I miss the most, is probably the summers with no humidity. 🙂

K.M. WEILAND
Historical & Speculative Novelist | Helping Writers Become Authors http://www.helpingwritersbecomeauthors.com | http://www.kmweiland.com

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Categories
Newsletter

Book of Dreams (Mars D. Gill) Newsletter – May 31, 2020

Upcoming Events

June Author Chats (FACEBOOK LIVE):
June 4, 2020. 8 p.m. CST – Not-So-Late Night Binge with RUMANA HUSAIN. #ChildrensBook author and illustrater. RSVP here

June 11, 2020. 8 p.m. CST- Not-So-Late Night Binge with RACHELLE M. N. SHAW. #youngadult #paranormal #horror & #womensfiction author. RSVP here

June 20, 2020. 11 a.m CST – Morning Coffee with GLENDA THOMPSON #debutauthor #crimefiction RSVP here

Sneak Peak

Later this year, I’ll be releasing my second novel, a #WomensFiction named Land of Dreams
Siana’s father always called America the Land of Dreams. Until one day he is shot in a random crime. Now Siana must discover the meaning behind those words despite all evidence of the contrary. She must do that to realize her father’s dreams.

Mars D. Gill News

This month Mars D. Gill became a person, an author. My name is Ramnik Gill, and I’m proud of it. However, my pen name is larger than me and stands for my entire family–the people who make me who I am.

On May 17, 2020 I published my first novel, a Romance Suspense, Letters from the Queen.

BUY NOW!

It’s about a woman who has lost her memory in Hawaii. Alone, the past seems to have abandoned her in a lonely hospital bed with the medical staff and charity workers as her only companions. That’s when she discovers that she is pregnant, too. Perhaps not that alone as she once thought. And a new worry grips her heart. Hawaii is a famous tourist destination: what if she was only visiting here, she would never discover the truth about who she used to be? Was she a pauper or a queen?

When she meets a new love interest in Hawaii, she thinks she is reborn and can start a life. All so, until a stash of letters surface, words filled with heartbreak and addressed to a Jason. She wants to know about her past but is reluctant to chase deceit and uncomfortable truths. Little does she know that she actually doesn’t have a choice and has to embark into a fascinating journey, looking into her life, thirty-six years to be precise, through the eyes of an outsider, just like the readers. This book will help you escape and plunge you into an entangled world of self-discovery. Hope you will join Anna and her pursuits.

Available now on amazon. Coming to other platforms in August. Stay tuned.

Today’s Words

Courage doesn’t always roar. Sometimes it’s the quiet voice at the end of the day whispering, ‘I will try again tomorrow.’Mary Anne Radmacher

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Categories
Poetry

My Dream in the Palm of My Hands

When that you have worked for
Cried for, fought for, for four years
Suddenly fits in the palm of your hand
You can touch it, caress it—the years flash by your eyes.

When doubt had shrouded the midnight oil
Fear had slept with you at night
Words had spelled desires on whiteness
With no end in sight, no reward

Only a beating heart, images no one else could see
Only an idea, a trembling hope
Something that didn’t exist
Kept you up all night

No bold promises, no guarantee of daylight
Words formed, un-formed undyingly
Yet you had risen each morning, gotten on your feet
And spelled another one of those dreamy but wretched words

And then what was in the mind
Bottled up and tear jerking dream
Spilled over to touch and turn a page
Today was that kind of day

I opened my proof of my first book
Curling into a ball and pressing its sheets
A dream four years in the making
Dropped from my eyelids into my hands.

Categories
Uncategorized

My Day Through My Window Sill

The birds are swooping, pecking the wet mud
Rain is pattering, flooding my green lawn
The droplets swirl, dancing ripples in the puddles
Caged as a prisoner, I rest my head against the window sill

The birds flap and flutter away, a fun, rainy day
While the thunder batters and rain drums on my roof
I linger here, counting its steady breaths
Longing for breeze to frisk my hair, tickle my cheeks

A roof over my head, warm comfort-rich baths, I have
Hot food on the table, a snug bed to sleep
Cherished moments of rest and playfulness
I now waste in stress

Because that busyness my mind took as normal
Has now abandoned without a goodbye
Why, oh, why, my fragile mind
Don’t you see what you have

Bulbs that light dark hallways
Heaters that warm the night
Idle minutes, imagination’s endless playground
All from the shelter of my home

And when my home walls bore me silly
A green walk leads me to a lake
Then why oh why can’t I wait
Cherish what I have for what it’s worth

And when that rush returns
Round the clock busy traffic takes over the roads
Drowns the chirps of the birds, the noise of thoughts
We’ll cherish that too after knowing it’s worth

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Categories
non-fiction

This Will End

Spring is a happy time of the year. For me, the happiest. The birds’ orchestra. The rustling of Willow trees. The fragrance of wildflowers. And the moist, free-flowing breeze. It symbolizes life, springing abloom with a bang.
However, this year, our lives have been crippled by an organism barely alive. A virus. And I sit here watching snow tumbling from the skies, not the waft of White Ash. It’s not just attacking our health, its also crippling our expression of love.

For me, the isolation cost me only a birthday party or two. For some others, it’s their wedding. Imagine that. Advised to remain away from one another, the disease hasn’t just taken from us our lives, but also our celebrations. That’s cruel. That’s worse than a fever. It has taken from us our reliance on stability. We don’t know what tomorrow will look like. We never did, but now we know we have zero control, and that’s scary. Making me suddenly a fan of yesterday when all was normal—I was planning our next trip and my son’s birthday party, and our options were limitless. Oh, yesterday!
But this will end.
What must not finish is our ability to learn from our disasters. If we continue to put business over common sense—our thriving cruise ship industry–the oversized, mobile Petri dish of diseases, that have repeatedly made us vulnerable and sick, then we deserve all this. If we continue to not inspect how these viruses originated and refuse to mend our ways, if we refuse to invest in our healthcare, then there’s no point to the misery. We are once again being shortsighted, believing that nothing can go wrong when we live on a serial killer named the Earth studded with super volcanos, overheated with pollution, drowning under rising oceans, and overwhelmed by depleting natural resources.
And I humbly note the isolation has brought down pollution numbers by over twenty percent. Nature is forcing its kind will upon mankind. And as I sign off, I am counting my blessings. I’m not alone, surrounded by the world’s absolute best people, the hearts I love and cherish. No virus can take that away from us.

Categories
Uncategorized

The Possible Dream

I woke up, not this morning, an hour after I slept at night. It was the wrong hour. After fretting over meetings I had the next day, my mind seemed to be settling down on a theme—the things I will never have in this life. The dreams I let go, the roads I walked by but didn’t take, the tangible jargons of my heart that would never be mine. The impossible. The irrational desires. Why dream that dream?
Come to think of it, I’m turning forty this year. It’s a wretched milestone that reminds me of how old I am and how less I may have. Let’s dissect this a little. By forty, I aimed to publish at least three of my books I have slogged, wept, and cussed at. Now let me be clear I ain’t content by publishing. It needs to be decent fiction. So here they are collecting dust. An impossible but such an achievable dream. So I counseled my mind to think of just one dream, I could latch on, believe in, only to forget everything I know for sure I will never have. I pinched my eyes, breathed guttural yoga sighs, and I saw red sand, rhythmic breaths inside a space suit on a planet I will never set foot in. But here I was inside my possible dream, one that could make me forget what I don’t, can’t, and shouldn’t have, one that took me away from planning my meetings before time, all because I freaking woke up at the wrong time. But one I could fool my mind into believing once again that in such a limited world, it’s the mind that makes everything limitless. Like God. We believe in something so pure, so lovely, never having seen the evidence of its existence. Religion makes the world go round. Beliefs run the world. Reality is fickle and fake. So build those castles. It may be the stuff of your mind that’s true as fake and shallow this real world we live temporarily in may be. Believe again. And sleep. At that ungodly hour called the night. 

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