by | December 26, 2025 · 10:56 am

A Tanka for #TankaTuesday Poetry Challenge, Holidays

For Robbie Cheadle’s challenge at #TankaTuesday challenge I’ve written a double tanka about my childhood Christmas Eves.

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Church bells ring-a-linged

We walked through the candy canes

in the crisp-aired park

Flakes coating our hair and coats

Sliding ourselves to the first house

*

Progressive dinners

Mom’s aunt’s house, then her uncle’s

Grandma baked desserts

Worst part was the oyster stew

Now my fondest memory

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Eight years ago I decided to investigate this Christmas eve oyster stew phenomenon for my family history blog. My mother’s maternal family were the ones who celebrated with the progressive dinners and the oyster stew (a pan of milk and oysters essentially until my husband joined the family and added spices and seasonings). That family was half Dutch and half Pomeranian (an area on the Baltic that was part of Prussia, although the genetics of the German-speaking people (before WWII when they were kicked out of Poland) was actually Slavic. Anyway, the Pomeranian “half” was through the women, so that’s where I thought the tradition must come from. Here is the link to my post. Keep in mind one of the links within the article is now dead. A Christmas Tradition from the Old Country

To my knowledge nobody in the family carries on this tradition. We have all created new holiday traditions with our children.

Did your family have a tradition that seemed to pull the family together like this that is now nearly forgotten?

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by | December 19, 2025 · 8:47 pm

Christmas Magic

Looking for a happy holiday romance? Check out Eden Dow Robins’s new Christmas release available in paperback and kindle versions. And inside find a little Easter egg in the form of my book Rooted and Winged!

https://www.amazon.com/Frost-Happily-Forever-After-Holiday/dp/B0G64ZSWC7

There’s more, too, but I don’t want to share it before you have read Frost!

Summary

“A small town, two frozen hearts, and a little Christmas magic…

Esme Gerard decided spending the holidays at her favorite place on earth was just what she needed. Once known as the most wicked wild west town in America, Jericho Ridge had been her asylum for more than a decade and was the perfect respite when her heart couldn’t risk taking one more hit.

Until Jack.

Their first encounter left her craving more. Something about him drew her closer. No matter how much she tried to tell herself she wasn’t ready, her heart told a different story.

Jack De Vine had priorities. As a single dad, his daughter was at the top of the list. Second was a secret legacy he had a sworn duty to protect. Third was the winery he and his family ran. Dating was at the very bottom. Ever since his ex-wife left him and their child years ago without a backward glance, he’d kept his heart stored in ice.

Until Esme.

From the first moment he saw her, he was drawn to her. That sent alarm bells off in his head. He knew he should steer clear of her, yet he kept looking for excuses to get closer.”

I hope your holidays are joyful!

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by | November 30, 2025 · 7:58 am

The Wonderful Feature Called the Poetry Bookshelf

I hope my American friends had a wonderful Thanksgiving. Mine was wonderful as my kids took on most of the work, and I got to spend a lot of time with my “best friend,” my little grandson. The gardener and I watched him the day before and the day after the holiday, as well as spending time on Thanksgiving Day itself. The day before we took him to the clock shop because he is passionate about clocks. And he sat down to explore our keyboard.

If you don’t celebrate Thanksgiving, I hope you still have much to be grateful for.

Enjoy the concert:

One of the Thanksgiving blessings of my life are writing friends and supporters. Case in point: A huge thank you to Editors Juan Re Crivello and Barbara Leonhard for putting my full-length poetry collection Rooted and Winged on the Poetry Bookshelf of LatinosUSA.

If you haven’t read my book, please check out this link if you have the time.

https://latinosenglishedition.wordpress.com/2025/11/30/featuring-rooted-and-winged-by-luanne-castle/

Enjoy your transition time into the holiday season!

P.S. I’m also grateful for decent medical care as I prep for this week’s colonoscopy. Yay!!!

 

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by | November 10, 2025 · 6:20 am

Review of Merril D. Smith’s HELD INSIDE THE FOLDS OF TIME

Here is my book review of Merril D. Smith‘s beautiful new poetry collection. I hope it makes you want to order a copy!

Merril D. Smith’s new poetry collection, Held Inside the Folds of Time, is a testament to Smith’s background as a historian. But what is more important is Smith’s sensitivity to previous generations. She opens the collection with a poem about a cave painting. By doing so, he connects us with all who have come before.

She recognizes what she’s learned from her ancestors, who–in “How I Learned”–“showed me that I have my own wings– / unfold them, fly. This, too, is part of the pattern.” The poet can’t or won’t get away from them: “My dead follow me through every timeline” (“Suspended, Surrounded”).

Smith’s ancestors who immigrated to the United States, her own family of origin, even the soldiers who died in a Revolutionary War battle are all subjects of the book. “In Memorium: For the Unknown Soldiers at Red Bank Battlefield” asserts “their ghosts roam the battlefield / settling their bones, unsettled in time.”

Nature features prominently in Smith’s poetry, and this is where the lyrical beauty of her writing is best displayed. She uses many poetic techniques, particularly variations of rhyme, such as off rhyme, end rhyme, and internal rhyme. These lines are from “Cross-Quarter Days”:

The blooms have browned,

blossoms scattered to the wind

now snow veils the ground,

there above, one bony root unpinned.”

While the poems contain examples of the beauty of life, the overall tone of the book is a lovely mournfulness. As Smith writes in “Winter Birches,” “there is no happily ever, only after.”

Held Inside the Folds of Time demonstrates the potential gorgeousness of language as it mourns and celebrates the poet’s world.

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by | November 4, 2025 · 12:29 pm

A Shadorma for #TankaTuesday Poetry Challenge No. 37, The Veil, 11/04/25

This week’s #TankaTuesday syllabic poetry prompt is by Yvette Calleiro. She asked for poems using the image of veil. While this is a great idea I learned something or maybe noticed is a better word about syllabic poetry. It’s very hard to approach subjects obliquely or “slant” (credit to Emily Dickinson) with syllabic forms.

I chose shadorma (possibly Spanish or of modern origin) for the form. This is a six line poem of 3-5-3-3-7-5 line lengths. I wanted a form that didn’t require the subject to be about nature, which is why I selected this form.

thanks to sfetfedyhghj

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The Mask Reveals the Heart

 

Bride’s coy veil,

vamp’s pillbox netting.

They conceal

to reveal—

no different from a mask

where disguise tells all.

 

Two years ago, the following flash fiction was published at The Ekphrastic Review. The veil in this case refers to the veil between living and dead or between this world and THAT world.

​Waiting for the Handsome Prince: A Farce (Of Course)
after “An Unexpected Visit” by Remedios Varo

Some girls left a glove or handkerchief, hoping to obligate a gentleman to return it. Eleonora liked to think she was different. She dropped a pump knowing he would imagine her barefoot and helpless. She remembered the velvet of his broad chest, jeweled medallion clanking, felt parts of her responding. Her new friend, Fairy Godfather, helped her prepare for Handsome Prince’s visit, adding to her pretty table setting an inexhaustible carafe and a trick candle, while assuring Eleonora they were traditional heirlooms with magical powers. Before he departed with an unnecessary hug, he reminded her what would happen if the spell were broken. All she needed to achieve the spell’s fulfillment was one kiss from Handsome Prince.Eleonora waited at the table for Handsome Prince all day. Then all night and the next day. She examined the events of the ball repeatedly. What went wrong? Was she too assertive? Too quiet? Did he prefer juicier curves or richer daddies? She tried to drink the water, but it was ensconced inside the glass, unattainable. She tried to rise, but the broken spell had already begun to claim its reward. The transformation into feline had begun. She was locked in place, the fur growing, even as the spinster cat had begun to dissolve into the woods. Just as the pitying fairies arrived to spirit her off beyond the veil, the now-unmasked Fairy Godfather appeared in his pumpkin, his goblin face taunting her.

NEW PUBS THIS WEEK

6 mixed media collages: Does It Have Pockets

2 speculative microfiction: Dog Throat Journal

revenge lit micro: Villain Era

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by | October 30, 2025 · 7:08 pm

Late to the Party, But With My Party Hat On!

I used to say I wouldn’t read ebooks because I loved real books. Then I needed to read some because the books written by some friends were only available for Kindle. Before long, I needed larger font and a bit of backlighting. The last blow was that I was diagnosed with macular degeneration. Now I LOVE my Kindle, which is already an older model of Paperwhite.

These days I read much more on my Kindle than I do paperbacks. Yet all of my own books have only been available in paperback (and hard cover for Rooted and Winged). This is because the majority of poetry small presses continue to just offer paperback books.

But I started to wonder and then to investigate.

And now I have a book available as EPUB on Amazon!!! The publisher of Our Wolves was very helpful and willing to list the ebook on Amazon alongside the paperback. Available for $5.50, the price he chose. I am hoping that this makes the Red Riding Hood revision collection more accessible to more readers. (Fingers crossed that this version works well for most readers’ devices!!!)

P.S. update: I should have mentioned (humbly haha) that Our Wolves was First Runner-Up for the Eric Hoffer Award.

OUR WOLVES, KINDLE EDITION

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by | October 27, 2025 · 5:20 am

Elizabeth Gauffreau’s Masterful New Novel, A Review

Liz Gauffreau is a master of historical fiction. And rather than creating a series (so far), she has written completely different books with different historical settings. I loved Telling Sonny, and now I love The Weight of Snow and Regret.

Here is my review of the latter. At the end I’ll share with you how you can purchase the book!

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Elizabeth Gauffreau’s new novel, The Weight of Snow and Regret, is a tribute to the residents of the Sheldon Poor Farm in Sheldon Springs, Vermont, as well as testament to the harsh lives of society’s disadvantaged. The novel takes place in 1967-68, the last year of the tenure of the poorhouse. But the plight of the poor and culture-rocking events of that year resonate with familiarity with contemporary readers.

The first part of the story weaves in the life of Louisianian Claire and how she falls from her place in middle-class society to living in the poorhouse far from home. In this way, the reader is drawn into the novel through the perspective of this mysterious woman, then the reader is delivered into the capable hands of Hazel, a sympathetic foster child grown into a compassionate woman who now runs the home itself while her husband manages the associated farm. Through Hazel’s kindness and perspective, we meet the other residents of the poorhouse.

The place hasn’t always been run as Hazel manages it. Before her hard work, dedication, and home management skills, the neglect was extreme. Every surface was filthy, with trash strewn about. The residents’ clothing was in desperate need of laundering. In fact, Hazel believes that the men’s underwear had never been cleaned. Hazel cleans the home immaculately, creates wholesome meals with a tiny budget, and gives the residents the care and understanding that they need.

These residents range from the forgotten elderly to the mentally ill to those with intellectual disabilities. Although they respond differently to events, and their interactions with each other can be fraught, Gauffreau’s exploration of their behavior and treatment rings true. One twist is that Hazel herself lived in this poorhouse at one time. A couple of the residents from her childhood time at the shelter are still living there when Hazel takes over. This feels like a gut punch to her to think of them still living in the conditions she and her family had undergone.

Gauffreau meticulously researched the history of the home, poor farm life in the sixties and before, the blues music that spoke to Claire’s troubled and depressed soul, the national and world headlines of the time, and local history. Her painstaking implementation of her research with her compassionate feel for the characters, and her excellent storytelling senses makes this an engrossing read. I read far into the night, without being able to put down the book.

***

Purchase from your preferred book seller.

Help Meals on Wheels!

Purchase the paperback from the publisher, and $5.00 of the purchase price will be donated to AgeWell Meals on wheels of Franklin County, Vermont.

Purchase paperback from Paul Stream Press.

 

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by | October 21, 2025 · 1:59 pm

#TankaTuesday, Fall Haiku

With my new fall routine in place, I’m back to trying #TankaTuesday syllabic poetry.

This week’s prompt was brought by Yvette M. Calleiro at Tanka Tuesday: Absorb, Repel and instructs poets to use the words “absorb” and “repel” in their syllabic poems. We can add a kigo word for fun. These are from a list of seasonal words.

I wrote this haiku with the two prompt words and the kigo “autumn sky.” Technically, haiku should not be rhyming, and this rhyme was unintentional. But I didn’t want to change it ;). Also, the plural of haiku can be haiku or haikus. I prefer haiku.

Autumn sky so blue

it repels all other hues

and absorbs my dreams.

I also wrote another haiku using the kigo “chilly.”

Chilly fall morning

sunlight splintering through trees

sparks dance at my feet

I posted an unenhanced photo of the intense blue sky in Arizona on Monday, but I’ll repost here to go with the first haiku.

The air seemed chilly this morning. A crispy fall morning. At least by Arizona standards. It was probably 65 degrees, and I could still wear a sleeveless dress.

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by | October 20, 2025 · 5:20 am

Those Elusive Smells

Now that the days are not as hot in Phoenix–more like 85 than 105–I started up my daily walks again. I had to stop when my hip got so bad, but now that I’ve had the replacement there is nothing stopping me. I love the smells outside, although the last two days there has been an unfamiliar funky odor (possibly bobcat pee) in the air, as well as the usual perfume of flowers, grass, leaves, and sun-kissed concrete.

 

The intensely blue sky during my walk

Not being able to “show” you the smells annoys me. I can take photos and write words and even post audio if I want to. But I can’t post scent. That’s not to say that I don’t enjoy adding olfactory descriptions in my writing; however, sometimes I’d just like to share how something actually smells. Or smell something my nose can’t reach.

This brings me to what I was thinking when I woke up yesterday. I’ve always loved history and as a kid used to wonder what it would be like to have lived in a different time period. Or to visit, even invisibly. Choose a time period. How about 1515 CE? What would it have stank like? I think even if I arrived in my time shuttle inside a palace that I would be gasping for air. I’d be holding an entire bottle of Gris Dior up to my face. I’d have to keep a little puke bag handy. I’m sure I’d be begging to come back to the present time. And that’s with palace peeps, not inside the hut of a poor person.

Yes, this is the kind of thing I think when I wake up in the morning. Maybe because I’m not writing every day. If I do write daily, then I’m apt to think of a story or poem while I’m still in bed. But I have finished my Remedios Varo-inspired ekphrastic chapbook. Gosh, I hope I can find a publisher for it. It’s hybrid, being both fiction and poetry, so that makes it harder to find publishers to submit to.

And, in other news, my hybrid flash memoir, Scrap: Salvaging a Family, should be available from ELJ Editions in March! Watch for cover reveal and so on in the future. If you are a blogger and would like to participate in a blog tour this spring, send me an email at luanne[dot]castle[at]gmail[dot]com. You can post a review or I can write a companion post to my book for your blog. I can get you a pdf. Here’s a link to publisher’s page: ELJ Editions forthcoming.

On the cat front, it’s been all puke/pee/poo/puke/pee/poo. If you plan to have multiple cats, try to space out their ages a bit so you don’t end up with all seniors at the same time. (just kidding, sort of)

In less than a week my grandson will be 21 months old! I can hardly believe it. He’s such a delight. He went on vacation to the beach and loved every moment.

 

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by | October 11, 2025 · 2:45 pm

Introducing Kathi Crawford and CONSIDER THE LIGHT

I’m introducing a new poetry-slash-flash nonfiction book by a debut writer, Kathi Crawford. I had the honor of writing a blurb for the back of the book.

Kathi Crawford’s debut chapbook Consider the Light, hybrid memoir in poetry and flash, shines a beam into the liminal spaces of a woman’s life. The collection examines transition periods and disruptions as Crawford recreates herself and her future at each of these junctions. As the child of working-class parents, she muses, “I need to save my family,” but as she grows older and must deal with her own problems, she takes what she can learn from others, such as self-discipline from her beloved Nanna, while forging a fierce independence. Crawford’s distinctive voice and story take the reader on a unique journey while offering whispers of familiarity to many who have faced similar hurtles. You won’t want to miss this engaging new voice.

Here’s the Amazon link. What a gorgeous cover, am I right? CONSIDER THE LIGHT – AMAZON

The cover artist is Brooke Summers-Perry. Here’s her Instagram:

https://www.instagram.com/brookesp_studio/

I think you will really enjoy this one, even if you tend not to read poetry. Here’s the book description:

consider the light is a hybrid memoir in poetry and flash nonfiction that traces one woman’s journey from her 1960s Rustbelt upbringing to a life of creative and professional fulfillment in Texas. Born into a working-class family shaped by grit and sacrifice, Kathi Crawford navigates decades of transformation-personal, cultural, and emotional-while forging her own path toward career success and lasting love.

Through moments of grief, reinvention, and unexpected grace, this collection illuminates the resilience required to see the best in each situation and in each other. With language that is spare, evocative, and deeply felt, Crawford invites readers to reflect on what it means to belong, to endure, and to choose light even when the shadows linger.

This debut book speaks to anyone who has wrestled with identity, loss, or longing-and found, in the struggle, a deeper kind of beauty. It’s a testament to the power of memory, the strength of women’s voices, and the healing potential of story. A compelling read for fans of women’s memoirs, personal transformation, and poetry about grief, hope, and resilience.

And you can read a little about Kathi here:

With a career spanning decades in organizational development, Kathi Crawford founded People Possibilities, LLC in 2008. She is an IAC-certified master coach who has worked with hundreds of clients one-on-one through leadership, career, and life transitions.

Alongside her business career, Kathi actively writes poetry and flash creative nonfiction. Her work has been featured online and in print in a variety of literary journals. Her chapbook, consider the light, is available from Finishing Line Press. This mini-memoir invites readers to embrace their flaws, honor resilience, and cultivate empathy for themselves and others, offering yet another avenue for Kathi to foster understanding and connection.

You can find Kathi on Instagram or LinkedIn @kathicrawford and subscribe to her blog @ kathicrawford dot com.

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