Meet the Author...L.P. Chase


L.P. Chase is a children’s author and poet. Initially known for her middle grade novel, Elliot Stone and the Mystery of the Alien Mom, L.P. Chase has gone on to publish several other works of fiction including, Elliot Stone and the Mystery of the Backyard Treasure, Today is Tuesday, Silly Spoon, and soon to be released in late 2007, Hannah’s Hula Hoop. Chase plans on continuing the Elliot Stone series and is in the process of writing the third installment. She is also the author of I Kiss the Moon, a collection of poetry. In addition to writing, Chase is working toward a degree in Social Work. In her spare time, she enjoys spending time with her three children, exercising, baking, and reading. Chase resides with her family in Smithtown, New York.

Review: Abductors

ABDUCTORS by Bernadette Gabay Dyer
Category: Science Fiction
Age Recommendation: Grades 6+Release
Date: 6/1/07
Publisher: Rain Publishing
Reviewed by: Marta Morrison, Teens Read Too!
Rating: 5 Stars

Balance. That is a theme that I have come across in books and society. We need balance in all we do. We need it in work and play, physical and mental, good and evil, and in spiritual and earthly. The earth is out of balance and we need to make it right again. ABDUCTORS explores this theme in the realm of good and evil. The good starts with the plight of Graeme Hulis, who awakens on the Downs in Sussex, England. He is found by a professor who is studying the paranormal. Graeme cannot remember anything about his life. Then he meets a beautiful girl named Anna Wall. The professor then decides to hypnotize Graeme, and he tells him and Anna the fascinating story involving the abduction of his mother by little men, the arrival of spacemen in Toronto, Canada, the love of fairies, and the future of the balance in nature. There are many interesting characters in this story, There is a loving family, a talking fox, little men, amazing friendships, and a main character who the reader will grow to love. It is a quick read that holds the reader's attention. I hope Ms. Dyer will write a sequel, because I would like to hear more about Graeme and his friends.

Dogs and Children

Dogs and Children
By: Victoria Tatum
It must have been my dog that made Blue decide to date me. His family had raised a few Labrador retrievers, and at the time I met him his dad Jim had a black lab named Covey, as in Willie McCovey. Covey had paws the size of baseballs, which served him well when he escaped from Jim’s office to chase ducks on the San Lorenzo River. As soon as he tired of running, Covey jumped in the river for a ride downstream to the Boardwalk, where he stole corndogs from innocent children.

With this family history, it should have been no surprise when Blue ordered my dog his own burger at In “N Out. Bud traveled in the right rear corner of my Toyota shortbed truck, his head hanging out the camper shell window. Blue ordered an extra burger no fixings, no bun, thus giving new meaning to the term “drive-through,” as the camper shell and Buddy’s head passed the drive-through window.

When I packed my belongings into the truck and moved from West Berkeley to Santa Cruz to be with Blue, I saved space in the right rear corner of the camper shell for Bud. He was as happy about the move as I.

Wherever Blue and I lived, we set up Bud’s bed under a table, giving him the cave-like quarters dogs need. He had free reign of the backyard where we settled to raise our family, chasing cats and, unqualified guard dog that he was, wagging his tail at intruders. But even docile ones like Bud have an uncanny sense of danger and adventure. They know before we pack our bags if we are going on a trip, and watch vigilantly to be sure they aren’t left behind. If someone is dangerous but gives no outward signs our human senses can detect, dogs who are normally docile sniff it out, growling and barking. Our retrievers, despite the occasional false alarm --a bronze dog statue or a log that looks like a bear-- are our deliverers and our angels.

Like Covey, Bud was a wanderer. He couldn’t jump the fence with his stubby legs, but he dug under the fence instead or chewed his way through. He was living testimony to the fact that Labradors should be fixed. Bud, however, lost his balls with little glory.

Glory or no glory, Bud was my fertility angel when, early in my pregnancy with Carly, I walked into the vet’s office and Dr. Miller asked me if I wanted to breed him. Dr. Miller’s Labrador Rosie conceived with Bud just two weeks before the truant was impounded and taken in a prison van to the vet’s, where by strict orders of the SPCA, I was not allowed to see him until he was neutered. Bud had a rap sheet with the SPCA three pages long.

Shortly after the fateful impounding, my friend Jim’s wife Helen called out of the blue and said her family was ready for a puppy. “What timing,” I said, and a few months later Helen, pregnant with her first son and accompanied by her daughters, went home with Buddy’s son Buster.
Bud was my fertility angel when Carly was born two weeks ahead of her predicted due date. A couple of nights before, he tried to scratch his way through the sheetrock to get out of the garage. Being an animal, he smelled what was going on. I let him out, stood in the dark while he peed, and an hour later my water broke.

The morning after Bud ate through the sheetrock, I met our midwife Mary Ann at her office. “Go home and get ready,” she said, “The contractions will start this afternoon.”
I went to the drugstore and picked up the necessary supplies. I got my hair cut. I put Jimmy Cliff in the tape deck of my truck and sang “Many Rivers to Cross” to the baby preparing to enter the world.
Strong contractions started sweeping over me that afternoon when I was standing in line at Safeway. I waited my turn, but inside I was yelling, “Get out of my way! I’m in labor!”

At two in the morning we drove to the hospital. By noon I was fully dilated, but I pushed for four hours. Mary Ann arrived before dawn and stayed all day. My mother came and hung out with me in the sunny courtyard, where I rode out the steadily increasing contractions on the lawn. Connie, my sister-in-law and a labor and delivery nurse, came in on her day off. Mary the nurse on duty was there. When Mary’s shift ended she stayed, and Connie’s friend Nancy came on. Thirty-six hours after our arrival, Carly was born in the company of her parents and four amazing women.

The Old Testament and ancient Hindu texts make reference to midwives. From this we can infer that women have always had midwives. I believe every birthing mother should have, if not a midwife, a few women in the room.

I put Carly in the old fashioned pram passed down from Blue’s mom and pushed the pram into the backyard. I parked Bud next to the pram for protection and slipped on my gardening gloves. Carly gazed up at the giant redwood tree and sucked on her pacifier for long stretches while I gardened. When her hands started flailing I knew the binky had popped out. I slipped off my gloves, popped the binky back in, and returned to my work. When Carly started walking, she and her pram protector were best friends. They played tug-of-war with the stick before she could talk.

I attribute Carly’s independence as a baby to her feeling safe in the world. Her brother Eliot did not feel so secure. From the day he was born he needed us close by. When he started to walk, Bud’s wagging tail was a grave threat. Bud was old and slow by then, but it didn’t matter to Eliot. He dodged Buddy’s wildly wagging tail like a point guard on a full court press.
Eliot’s birth was not the blink-and-it’s-over delivery I was hoping for after the Carly marathon. I had heard stories of women giving birth to their second babies before the midwife could get there, so the five hours of labor with Eliot seemed like an eternity. He was also born two weeks past his due date. Eliot grew in the womb at his own pace, just as he continued to develop thereafter, teaching me to put away my own time line and go by his.

Nor was he the idyllic water birth I had envisioned. After an hour in the hospital tub I abandoned my water dream and moved to the bed. Eliot was born face up which made pushing more painful, but at least the second time around I knew what to do. There are things they don’t think to tell you in the birthing class.

When I was in the bath Blue fanned me with a towel. I told him I felt as if he were fanning me with banana leaves and feeding me figs. While I was in the shower letting the hot water run on my lower back, he washed my feet, like Jesus washing the feet of his disciples.

Carly and Eliot were little when Buddy died. For Carly the sorrow came a year later, and she cried a lot at bedtime. For Eliot the sorrow came seven years later when he was ten. That was the way his developmental delay worked; he went through the same major stages Carly did, only much later and for longer. So it was that his best friend was Buddy’s successor Shoe.

Shoe had long legs that could have propelled him over any fence, but he showed no proclivity to wander. This was probably because he was neutered as a pup, but there were personality factors at work as well. Bud had a block of a head that hung so low his nose was always to the ground, and the scents he picked up naturally lead him away from us. Unlike Buddy, Shoe was a bundle of energy but he was unfailingly loyal to his pack: me, Blue, Carly, and Eliot.

Shoe waited for Eliot to get home from school, and the two of them walked around the backyard together for hours. That was the miracle: Shoe walked. Eliot held the stick and Shoe followed calmly until he gave it up. By the time Eliot was ten he carried on long conversations with anyone who would listen, but up until then Shoe was the only one outside his family with whom he talked at length. As they walked around the backyard, Eliot held what were not so much monologues as dialogues with one person talking. While Eliot talked, Shoe rolled his eyes up at him and wagged his tail limply.

There were three possible reasons for this. One, they exchanged testosterone like Ritalin and were mutually sedated. Two, animal soul saw into human soul and visa versa. And three, Bud may have left this earth but his soul resided in our yard, assuring us that he was still part of the family.

Hear Victoria's latest interview at: http://www.blogtalkradio.com/yoga/blog/2007/11/15/Author-Extraordinaire-Victoria-Tatum
Author Victoria Tatum 's novel The Virgin’s Children was released by Rain Publishing Inc.
Ask for your copy at a local bookstore near you, or visit www.rainbooks.com or www.amazon.com for more information

Meet the Author. James W Foster

Meet the Author...James W Foster


James W. Foster is from Port Dover, Ontario, Canada. His home town is the model for the fictional community of Vollmer's Hollow where most of his stories are set. Jim has long been a fan of dark fiction.
"It's difficult to name a definitive favorite author," says Jim. "There are so many good ones, but Stephen King, Dean Koontz, Richard Laymon, Robert R. McCammon, James Herbert, John Saul, and Jack Ketchum would all be likely candidates."
When Jim isn't spending his spare time with his son Cody, he can usually be found in the poorly lit attic where he resides pounding out dark tales. He lives in constant fear of being possessed by a demonic entity, and thinks the expression a person wears when they bump their head is hilarious.
James has penned four horror books and is working on his fifth.

About the Artist About the Adventure

Michael Cywink – “Cy”
Artist/Author/Curator



Michael “Cy” Cywink is a band member to the Wikwemikong Unceded Indian Reserve on Manitoulin Island, which has been designated as a Cultural Capital in Canada, 1 of 5. He is also an alumnus to the Institute of American Indian Arts, Santa Fe, New Mexico.

Cy is an Independent Curator, previously he was the curator for the Ojibwe Cultural Foundation, M'Chigeeng, Manitoulin Island; a First Nations cultural consultant with Walt Disney Imagineering/ Disney's America theme park project, Glendale, California. Throughout the 80's he was a Counsellor/ contract street worker in Toronto working with agencies such as Central Toronto Youth Services, Under 21 Covenant House, The Toronto Boy's Home and Native Men's Residence.


" I am originally out of a small village, one of the main stopping places for the Anishinabe while on their migrations long before contact, this place is now called Whitefish Falls and my father Nick Cywink Sr. was born there into the Cywink/Biidassige Bear Clan. He was a veteran of World War 2. A real warrior on two wheels, "One of the best snipers doing 40 mph", he'd say. He was sixteen when he enlisted into the Canadian Army and began his journey into the spirit world in 1990. I am of Shigwadja/Neganigwane through my mother Eva Neganigwane (Pheasant). She came from the nation's capital of South Bay. Her father, my Mishomis introduced me to the world as Mii Zhen. He held me in his hand and looked at my mother and said, " This is Mii Zhen, He Is Good For You". My mother is still with us.

Writing for me doesn't come as smoothly as coloring. There generates within me a different kind of energy that comes through word art. The Adventures of Crazy Turtle came out over a period of 20 or so years. And what an adventure it is. Crazy Turtle is the basis of my Creation Story. There is no end to a Creation Story, so there is no end to the Adventures of Crazy Turtle.

The concept of having a Turtle as the main character goes back to the times when everything around you is coming down, closing in. So just as a Turtle protects themself, we hide inside our shells, in this case, we hide inside our thoughts and feelings, and we build invisible walls around us to hide and protect our being, our true feelings. But Crazy Turtle goes beyond that, Crazy Turtle brings out a truth in us that we need no longer hide, we need no longer go away and try to run from our inner being. That in-turn everything remains the same and it is our inner awareness and perception on life that evolves around our time while here with Mother Earth.

Each of us as hue-man beings, have our own time here on this earth walk and, within our growing, as an individual we must adhere to the responsibilities of tradition and value, just as our Elders are the caretakers of cultural knowledge. It is truth when said that we are spirit beings living in the psychical gift of Creation, we are not human beings falling to our knees looking for a Spirit.

This is a story for Children of All Ages, It is meant to help one understand the spirit being inside their "shell." Have you lost the child in you?"

In my workshops I discuss "The makings of Crazy Turtle, how the adventure came to be and show accompanying illustrations. The Adventures of Crazy Turtle can be ordered directly through www.rainbooks.com ISBN 13: 978-1-897381-04-5.

Without the Language to be released December 2007



Michael Cywink, PO Box 36 , Whitefish Falls, Ontario, Canada, P0P 2H0

The Power of Choice in Poetry


The Power of Choice in Poetry with Lucille Shulklapper
Wednesdays, February 6 – March 5, 7pm – 9pm
Northwest Regional Library, Coral Springs
“A word is dead when it is said, some say. I say it just begins to live that day.”
~ Emily Dickinson~
Poetry thrives on possibility and choice. Explore the use of poetic devices in poems of published poets, their structure and surprise, before experimenting with exercises that will stretch your own range of poetic possibilities. Entice your muse with practical and playful ideas. Fearlessness is the only prerequisite.
Lucille’s poetry and fiction appear in numerous journals, anthologies, and three poetry chapbooks: What You Cannot Have, The Substance of Sunlight and God, It’s Not Hollywood.
A picture book, Out of Bed, Fred will be released in October, 2008.

Interview with: P.L. Reed-Wallinger

Interview With Author; P.L. Reed-Wallinger

Titles: Dark Secrets, Forbidden Fantasies, Emma’s’ Choice and soon to be released in 2008- Obscene Obsessions.
Publisher: Trade, Rain Publishing Ontario Canada


How long have you been writing? Did you take any writing classes? Do you use a pen name? Why?

I have been writing since I was old enough to hold a pencil. I vividly remember once, when I was in first grade, trying to get a story written but not being competent enough to do so. We were living in Turkey at the time, and my dad was sitting on a screened-in porch, typing something. I asked him to type my story while I told him the words…and he did. Of course, it was crap. I was only six years old. But the drive was already there. The stories were starting.

At twelve, my father taught me to play the guitar. I had no money to buy music, but I wanted to play, so I wrote my own songs. Again, some of them were crap, but a few were actually pretty good.

I took a creative writing class my senior year, and even had one of my short stories read aloud to the class by the teacher—much to my utter horror. I was so embarrassed, but the point is, it was good. I KNEW I could write. It was an innate knowledge, an intrinsic confidence. I never questioned that ability—and still don’t.

When I finally made the decision to pursue publication, I decided on a pen name. I felt somewhat protective of my first name, so I opted to go with my initials. I also wanted to acknowledge my heritage as a writer, (both my father and brother are published writers), so I used my maiden name. Then, of course, there’s that need we all have for recognition—acknowledgement that YOU—(the you everyone knows)—has accomplished something worthwhile. Vanity rears its ugly little head. So, of course, I kept the last name my friends and family would recognize. Hence, the P.L. Reed-Wallinger.

Jeff Yosick

Author Jeff Yosick Releases Three Heartwarming Tales that Children and Adults Will Both Love to Read Again and Again

“Madison’s Special Dolly, Timmy and the Storm and Running the Race teach children about love, giving, and letting go in touching tales by author Jeffrey Yosick.”

In his three releases Madison’s Special Dolly, Timmy and the Storm and Running the Race author Jeffrey Yosick teaches children valuable lessons about life and giving while creating stories adults will love reading to their kids. Just in time for the Christmas season and during this time of war, both these books are welcome additions to the host of children’s classics.

War is hard enough for any child to understand. It’s much harder to comprehend when your own father must leave to fight in a war. For many children, it’s a scary, yet bigger then life concept that they can’t completely grasp. Kids just know that it’s bad, that Daddy could get hurt. In Timmy and the Storm, Timmy’s mother uses a tale of three bunnies to help Timmy realize what his father has to do and to say good bye to him.

“When I wrote Timmy and the Storm my number one goal was to find a way to help the children of soldiers heading off to Iraq,” Yosick explains. “I actually wrote the story in 2004 after I received word that my brother would be deployed himself. I was able to take the emotions that were bottled up from my loss, and pour it out into the story that became Timmy and the Storm. Although this book was geared to children of military parents, it is a story that would help any parent explain to their children why soldiers have to go to war.”

Yosick’s inspiration for writing children’s books comes from his own three kids. Although he’s always been an avid writer and poet and been very passionate about the written word, it was having his children that truly made him see the way his words could be just as valuable to his readers as they are to him.

Madison’s Special Dolly is a result of that inspiration and filled with love and the spirit giving as we approach the holiday season. A little girl who saves all of her chore money for a special new doll finally gets to purchase it. On the journey home, something unexpected happens to make this little girl’s dolly truly a special one. Inspired by Yosick’s own daughter’s homemade gift to him and the joy she received from just giving it to him, Madison’s Special Dolly is a book kids and adults both will find heartwarming.

“My goal for this book is to show children and adults the valuable lesson of giving,” Yosick says. “I want the readers to walk away inspired by the actions of a little girl named Madison. It is my hope that people will see how love and giving can go beyond what our imaginations allow us to believe, and that the same joy that a person feels when they receive can also be felt through the selfless act of giving.”

Both books are now available at the publisher’s website by visiting http://www.rainbooks.com. Additional information and media inquiries should be sent to info@rainbooks.com.

Fun Writing Quiz by Margaret Watson

Writing Quiz

By Margaret Watson
Author of Cook Book: Blokes with Stoves


(1)What kind of writer are you?

a) Writing is my main source of income
b) I had a piece published in a college magazine once
c) I write regularly but rarely submit any
d) I write every day and submit regularly


(2)What is writer’s block?

a) Making the fifth cup of coffee in an hour rather than getting on with it
b) Staring at a blank piece of paper
c) A bin full of screwed up attempts
d) A teenager who says ‘You aren’t using the computer are you? Oh, were you supposed to save that?’

(3)What kind of agent do you have?

a) I receive e-mails from time to time
b) My best friend
c) I’ve got one but I can’t find his address
d) What’s an agent?


(4)How do you submit manuscripts?

a) Hand written first drafts by snail mail
b) Double spaced word processed in rtf with inch space all round sent as attachments.
c) Your 25th attempt at making the computer print it properly
d) An e-mail on the way to work

(5)What kind of writing do you do?

a) Whatever pays the bills
b) My favourite kind
c) It depends on the market requirements
d) Whatever inspires me

(6)Why do you write?

a) What else is there to do?
b) It is something I can do at home in comfort while also looking after the children/my mother/the dog.
c) I want to be a best selling author
d) It is what I’m good at


(7)What is your attitude to your writing?

a) I look forward to starting a new piece
b) I get a sense of satisfaction from completing a piece to the best of my abilities
c) It’s a job
d) The acceptances make up for the rejections


Scoring (1)a) 4, b)1, c)2, d)3

(2) a)1, b)2, c)4, d)3

(3) a)3, b)4,c)2, d)1

(4) a)1,b)4 c)3, d)2

(5) a)3, b)1 c)4,d)2

(6) a)3,b) 1 c)2,d)4

(7) a)3,b)4,c)1,d)2


Remember this is just for fun, and I could well be wrong but here it is:-

21-28 – A true professional
14-21 – You’re on the way
7-14 - A nice hobby
1-7 - Are you really trying?