Happy June Everyone! This week we are going to listen to “Wuthering Heights,” written by Emily Bronte and adapted by Rachel Pulliam. In honor of June being Audiobook Month, I thought it would be fun to post an old classic, that is both timeless and – in this case – produced by Dream Realm Enterprises. Penned in 1847, Emily Bronte’s story of love, hate, and revenge has remained an eternal classic. Heathcliff, a foundling boy, is taken in by the kind Mr. Earnshaw and raised with his own children, Cathy and Hindley. While Hindley’s jealousy grows, Cathy finds the boy endearing and together they form an inseparable bond. Despite her connection and love for Heathcliff, Cathy struggles with fulfilling society’s expectations of her to marry a rich man or the desire to follow her heart….
“Bicycling with Butterflies,” A New Book by Sara Dykman
Editor’s note: Most of us are likely curious about the person who writes a book — in particular, one who rode her bicycle 10,201 miles to follow the monarch butterfly migration from Mexico across the United States to Canada and back again. So we’re introducing a new feature to our book excerpts: a Zoom interview with the author. If you like what you’re about to listen to, watch, read, please leave a note in the Comments—and treat yourself to a copy of Sara’s book. This is the best book about adventure cycling I’ve ever read, and it’s available on Amazon in hardcover, Kindle and Audible. ~ Jack Bicycling with Butterflies excerpt: “A Million-Winged Sendoff” DAYS 1 AND 2 / MARCH 12 AND 13 MILES 1–118 The sun’s warmth began to pour steadily through the branches,…
Rebecca Hosking — Multitalented Creative
Photo above: Elephant Camp, Chang Mai, Thailand Editor’s Note: This month’s featured artist is also a very talented musician and poet. Check out Rebecca Hosking’s diverse creative endeavors below. Not All Witches Belong to a Coven Not all witches belong to a coven. Put aside the stereotypes. Expand your mind and think outside of the box. Mother nature lives inside all of us. She is the mother of the earth. Her medicine lives in the plants that feed off the dirt. Get your feet wet, dabble, and expand your mind. Not all witches wear black clothing or dance naked in the garden just before dawn. This woman lives alone. She lives among her dreams, works hard like a graceful wave carrying life to the shore. She warms her skin with the sun and finds energy…
May Edition of “The Break from HOKAIC”
Jason’s Notes From the Lab …So, I started Instagram. Long-time readers of my work know that I recommend choosing two social media platforms and owning them (as opposed to spreading yourself thin across all the platforms available). For the longest time, for me that was Facebook and Google+. But then Google+ stopped operating. Which left me looking for a second home. I kept trying Twitter and LinkedIn, but honestly kept sucking at both of them. I have not yet figured them out. But I seem to be getting some solid traction with Instagram. For better or worse, here’s five things I’ve learned so far. Use Video. My videos are performing 2 to 3 times as well as my images alone. Whether that’s a posted video, something on my story, a Reel, or IGTV. In June I’m…
“Never Never Land,” by Michael Summerleigh
At some point in the evening he turned around and realised he was somewhere he’d never been before; that he couldn’t remember any of the people with whom he’d been in that wherever it was he thought he had been before ending up where he was. What it boiled down to was that he was alone, when at some point in the near past it had been otherwise . . . and now he was lost . . . which had not always been the case in that same shifty construct of reality he had assumed was his normal everyday life. Mostly he stayed on top of things. What frightened him was that it was, nevertheless, familiar; that the sudden crushing weight of what-the-fuck was not new; that he had been there in the Nowhere a thousand times since the day/night/whatever when Timothy Thomas Garmin had woken up screaming because in…
“Lux et Veritas,” Four Sonnets by Claude Clayton Smith
Lux et Veritas —for Yvonne The light from all the stars we see goes on to other galaxies although those stars are dead. Where on earth does it end? In non- existent time? Does light lose speed like cars in neutral? Is “fading light” anomalous? Not quite. In empty space light waves maintain their speed until they interact with us or meet other resistance. Light does not distain a vacuum, but glass or water ebbs its flow, and Bose Einstein Condensate can slow it to one mile per hour. Black holes swallow light forever. All Nature does its bit. So where the hell does that leave you and me? The truth of light confounds eternally. B & B Let Basquiat & Banksy paint away, no cityscape untouched, four-handed art on walls and bridges, cement or brick—array of Day-Glo, long-tailed rats; vandals, one part anonymous, one not. Subversive rap or hip-hop punk, epigrams, graffiti…
“Wordtastic” by Steve Schneider
Welcome readers and listeners, to a podcast that is both delightfully amusing, entertaining and educational about kids and spies and kid spies! Welcome to “Wordtastic” by Steve Schneider! Due to an evil plot that has wiped out written language and is causing spoken language to fade from memory, special agent spy kids must race against time to collect and archive known vocabulary before it is lost forever! The show provides multiple exposures to content-rich vocabulary terms in the context of a fun story of spies and espionage that features kids as the heroes and main characters. In this premiere episode of Wordtastic! we meet the teams of special agent kids and learn about “The Incident.” An energy wave, known as “The Pulse” has swept across the world and removed all written and recorded information and…
“The Mailman,” A Short Story by Rachel Laverdiere
You gave me quite the fright! But I did say any time, and I meant it. Yes, yes, come in, come in! Leave your boots on the mat and let me take your coat. Funny, the only person ringing my bell these days is the mailman! Highlight of my day’s the sound of the utility bills dropping through my mail slot. Doesn’t hurt that he’s got spectacular calves, if you know what I mean! All summer long, he wore his shorts uniform—weee-oooo! Just between you and me, I’ve been having fantasies ever since. Now, when the doorbell goes, I’ve gotta catch my breath before I open the door. To be completely honest, it’s a relief you’ve popped by—I was just numbing the old brain with some Netflix, trying to keep my nose clean. I know I’ve mentioned my pledge to sobriety at our Saturday morning staff meetings, but I had a feeling I should put a bottle of white in the fridge. Every once in a while, a girl’s gotta let her hair down, right? Let’s just keep this whole Desiree’s-got-wine-chilling-in-the-fridge thing between the two of us. One teensy glass won’t send me tumbling too far from the wagon! After all, Barney’s…
“Bette Howland” & “Barbara,” CNF by Raymond Abbott
Photo Credit: Magic City Books Editor’s Note: We’re excited to announce two pieces of creative nonfiction by FC member and former Featured Writer, Raymond Abbott. He details two events from his career as a writer. Bette Howland, Chicago Writer Bette Howland has been dead for more than two years. I have had ample time to consider some of the things written about her. She received the MacArthur Award in 1984, and receiving the grant seemed to compel her to stop writing. I had heard of this kind of thing before, but I don’t know that I believe it. What slowed her down when I knew her was the pain she suffered when a man she had been seeing for a long time unexpectedly married another woman. Bette wrote and published several books, including W3, Blue in Chicago, Things to Come…
“My Sister,” Poems by Susan J. Wurtzburg
My Sister My sister enacts meal provider, family clustered around the table. Sustenance for body and heart, hollowed out by this year. Muffled emptiness behind my ribs muted by video calls. Strands across the Pacific from my island to her wooded home. My sibling draws me back to Canada, closed pine borders. Each call a step closer, but still stranded on a rock in the ocean. ** The Toad Heavy rains, another toad in the garden, poison to my dog. Buffo catching, my new pastime, followed by a marsh trip. Bye Mr. Toad. No whimsical talking character, Wind in the Willows cute. Instead a mammoth, warty body, with venom sacs behind his ears. Toad number seven in a lineage, a hopping invading force. Beady eyes, fire-plug body, strong jumping legs, garden bane in Hawaii. Islands replete with outsiders: frogs, rats, goats, even tourists. If the toads arrived with…