Monday, November 12, 2012

Thank you, Veterans!!!!


Happy Veteran's Day to all who have served and those still serving. 


Remember those who have made the ultimate sacrifice.
 
If you like your freedom thank a veteran every time you see one, especially today! Freedom is NOT free!!
 
 To those who may not know, a veteran does NOT have to have been to war in a foreign land to be considered a veteran, ANYONE who has served deserves your thanks!!!
 

 

Friday, November 9, 2012

Guest Post! David N. Walker, We may not have it all together, but together we have it all.

Rambling Reads would like to thank Christian inspirational author, David N. Walker for stopping by the blog today.  

The feminist movement has caused some men to think of the term "strong woman" as a bad thing, but this is not necessarily the case. A strong woman doesn't necessarily go around trashing men or trying to prove herself as superior to men.

In fact, a truly strong woman has enough self-confidence and a good enough self-image that she feels no need to justify herself. Just like a truly strong man, she just goes about her own business—and does so effectively enough that she needs no trumpets or press releases, nor does she need to denigrate others in order to make herself look better.

We tend to think of the strong woman as an anomaly or the 20th and 21st centuries, but this is also not true. There have been strong women throughout history. Certainly the development of the West by the early pioneers and later settlers of the 19th century required a lot of strong women.

Where would Lewis & Clark have been without Sacagawea? How about the countless families that went west in covered wagons—could weak women have accomplished this feat? They didn't have to try to emasculate their husbands or make public spectacles of themselves to show off their strength. They just did what they needed to do, no matter how hard that may have been.

Such a woman was Fancy, the lead character in my novella series of the same name. She didn't seek to show off her strength or skills. She merely accepted the hand dealt to her and proceeded to work her way through whatever lay ahead.

When, as a ten year-old, she saw her mother die giving birth to her baby sister, she stepped up to the plate and shouldered the primary responsibility for running the household and raising her sister. She took all that pressure off her father so he could devote his time and energy to operating their farm and keeping the wolf away from the door.

When her father answered the call to support the confederacy by joining the army, she took over the farming, too. Now she was mother, father, housewife and provider. She accepted all this without complaint and just set out to do whatever was necessary to succeed at it.
Read about this wonderful girl/woman and not only her response to the immediate situation, but also her growth as she made her way in life over the next couple of decades. Fancy begins as she fills in for her soldier/father. The rest of the series follows her as she grows and meets the future. Click here for more information about the story and how to order your copies of the books in this series.

*~*~*~*Comment for the chance to win a copy of his novella Fancy*~*~*~*

David N. Walker is a Christian husband, father and grandfather, a grounded pilot, a would-be Nashville star, and a near-scratch golfer who had to give up the game because of shoulder problems. A graduate of Duke University, he spent 42 years as a health insurance agent. Most of that career was spent in Texas, but for a few years he traveled many other states.

He started writing about 20 years ago and has been a member and leader in several writers' groups. Two of his books, the devotional Heaven Sent and the novella Fancy, are now available in paperback and in Kindle and Nook formats. Click here for more information and links to purchase these books.

David is currently working the Fancy series. Both Fancy and Fancy: The Search - Vol 2 are now out, and others will follow every couple of months or so.

Excerpt:

On a late July afternoon, she watched from the barn as a rider approached. She received few visitors, and this man's sudden appearance gave her a sense of foreboding. She grabbed her shotgun, hiding it in a fold of her skirt, and stepped out to meet him.
May I help you sir?”

Are you Clara Faye Greene?”

Yes.” She wondered who this man was and what he wanted with her.

Telegram, ma’am.” He walked his horse over and handed an envelope to her. Then he reined his horse around and rode away.

She returned to the barn and leaned her shotgun against the wall next to the door. Her hands trembled as she tore the envelope open. “No.” She didn’t even hear herself scream. “No. They’re mistaken.”

She re-read the telegram telling her that her father had been killed in a battle at some place called Manassas Junction.

What wrong?” Danni came running to the barn from where she’d been playing out in the yard.

Fancy ignored her and began pacing up and down the hay-strewn floor. “They made a mistake. That’s what it is. It can’t be true.”

What, Fancy?” Danni grabbed her sister’s arm.

Go on back out and play, honey. I’ll tell you about it later.”

Danni didn’t budge. She just stood looking at her sister.
 
Go on.” Fancy shooed her away. “Go on and play.”

Danni finally left, although Fancy sensed her reluctance to do so.

Damn those Yankees.” Fancy’s denial turned into anger. “They try to force us to do what they want, and then they kill our men. Damn them. I hope they all go to hell.”

She walked out into the field, screaming obscenities about war in general and Yankees in particular, shaking her fist as she went. Suddenly she looked upward, shook her fist toward heaven and cried out, “Where were you God?
 
She began to sob. “Why didn’t you protect my daddy? Why did you let him die? We’re supposed to trust you, but where were you then?”

Fancy was only vaguely aware of the setting sun as she continued to walk and rant. She had no idea how long Danni had been calling to her when she finally heard her. Oh God, it’s getting dark. Danni must be scared to death.

I’m coming, Danni. Stay where you are.” She didn’t know what she was going to tell the child. She wasn’t sure how she would take it. “God, you didn’t protect my daddy. Please at least protect my little sister. Don’t let her fall to pieces when I tell her.”

She could hardly keep her mind on what she was doing as she went through the motions of preparing and eating supper. After they finished, she left the kitchen in a mess and took Danni across the room into the living area, where she sat in the old rocking chair and pulled Danni into her lap.