Why Bookshops Rock!

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Fascinating post from a bookseller on why bookshops rock.

Emma's Bookish Corner


As some of you may know I am a bookseller (yes, it really is the best job in the world!) and something happened over the weekend that made me seethe. A customer asked me for advice on what books her teenage daughter might like. They followed me to the teen section where I offered them a handful of books to look at and left them to it. I went back to see how they were getting on to see a phone out and the word ‘Amazon’ being whispered. They left buying nothing.


Admittedly this isn’t the first time something like this has happened to me, sadly it is becoming more and more frequent, but this time it really irked me, I had a little rant on Twitter and the tweet exploded! I have never, ever had such a response to my random tweet based ramblings and the response to this…

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A poem. A-Level Results. ‘You can only be angry for so long before you become,’

A-Level Results

published Anti-Heroin Chic

chairs classroom college desks
Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

whether it is on Facebook
in the national or local newspaper
children, well, teenagers
are pictured leaping for joy
as they have received their A-Level results
to be able to get into their first choice university
and i remember –
have many regrets
i am twenty-two
struggling with the basics
it is difficult not to believe
that i am an unemployed loser
with a minimal education

cut short by ill mental health
that was never
in school

i hated life was mapped-
school, college, university
for everybody but me
because even then
i didn’t think my life
was going to go as planned

it is hard not to be bitter

but we all have choices
at some point
you have to make them

and quit blaming
perpetrators and circumstances

you can only be angry for so long
before you become the person
at the end of the bar
bitter, drunk
crunching on pork scratchings
and scowling at the people that dare
laugh, or raise their voice
near you

from now
on in

my life is mine to be controlled.



Want more poetry? Try Here comes the Sun


There Is Strength in Our Stories: a night that didn’t wash away – Linda M. Crate


Incredible poem.

Blood Into Ink

night could not wash 3.png

i remember that rainy saturday night well
will never forget
your sister was supposed to be watching us,
however, she was rather absent
from where we were;
i remember how you forced your lips against mine in
a kiss although i protested no
you didn’t listen—
never understood why my voice didn’t matter
how you made me silent and empty as a void,
but you hallowed out my tongue and emptied me of
my power;
broke my heart and impaired my magic
when you stole all those kisses
from me—
and then you insisted we’d “do it”,
i protested again;
yet all my protests fell on deaf ears
refusing my right to deny what i didn’t want
as if this were some norm i was supposed to come to expect—
i remember how you were in your underwear and you tried to pull
my clothes off, but i refused to…

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Wicked Rebel by Paula Black is out now & Book 1 in the Wizard of Oz Shape Shifter re-telling is on sale! Also enter to win an Amazon giftcard or PayPal cash.

I was just getting used to my life back
in Kansas, when I suddenly return to Oz, without Toto or the magic shoes
that put me here. Time operates differently in both worlds, and though
only four months has passed for me, more than two years have progressed
in Oz.

And in that time, I’d somehow become a legend.

One of my boys has become a king. And the other two have been taken
captive by the Witch of the South.

In order to stop a rebellion and help the shifter brothers, I have to
take on a new item of power and become something I never thought I
would… the Wicked Witch of the West.

Buy on Amazon or read in Kindle

To celebrate the release of Wicked
Rebel, Book 1

is 99¢!

I have no idea what’s happening to me.
When a tornado dropped my car in a land of short, wild people, I was
shocked. With no way to get home, no idea where I was and no clue how to
communicate with the muchkins, I was completely out of luck. Then I
found out that my car had landed on someone and killed them. Supposedly
she was the Wicked Witch of the East.
If that wasn’t bad enough, now her ruby slippers magically appear on my
feet, and slowly, I’m becoming her.
Now I need to get to Emerald City and see the Wizard if I want to stop
the transformation and return home. But the yellow brick road is no
cake-walk, and I don’t know what I’ll find at the end of this journey.
Luckily, I have three brothers I meet along the way to help me on my
journey. Each of them is vying for my affection, as if it doesn’t matter
that my skin is turning green.
Wicked Origins is a modern YA Fantasy Retelling of L. Frank Baum’s
original Oz tales.

Buy on Amazon or read in Kindle

Book 2

to win May 2019 Fantasy and SciFi $100 Gift Card Giveaway

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Sunday is my favourite day of the week. Poem. Breather.


Photo Kate Louise (C)

a photo
of your breakfast plate –
post having eaten

all that is left are
traces, crumbs, a crust, a sliver of yolk,
arranged so
that the light through the curtains makes it spark up like a fire
as it rests on the coffee table –

a lazy Sunday –

egg sandwich, nap, channel hopping and a roast dinner towards evening

Want more poetry? Try Here comes the Sun