VOL. III ISSUE IV

Hello Everyone!
Hope you’re all enjoying the cooler fall temperatures in the northern hemisphere and of course, the warmer climes south of the equator. I want to heartily welcome all of my new readers. Please note that while most of you have joined me through my Author’s Den sign-up form, some of you are on my opt-in email list through the Triple Your List system. Either way, I’m glad you’re aboard and hope you enjoy my newsletter. As always, if you wish to opt out, please use the link below or contact me directly.
We just enjoyed a wonderful Thanksgiving weekend here – the reason why this newsletter is a bit late this month. The turkey, family, friends and festivities were wonderful! For all my Canadian readers, I hope you had a great time. For my American friends, Thanksgiving is yet to come. Whenever you celebrate and even if you don’t it is always good to be thankful for all the positive people and things in your life. In fact, take a few moments each day to count your blessings.
This month’s story comes from Birdie Jaworski who hails from Las Vegas, NM. Birdie is a fellow-member of a site called Gather.com where budding and established writers alike can showcase their talents. Birdie is an exceptional “bird” who writes with such amazing flair and oft times wonderful humor. In this story, however, she tells us about a visit to see her Kentucky relatives when she was a little girl and a sight she never expected to see.
Foggy Mountain Breakdown

When I was a kid, my Kentucky relatives scared me. We rarely visited them. I can count six times I saw them during my young years and each time was a cigarette, fishin' pole, biscuit haze with my dad sitting outside, far away with the newspaper and a radio, and my mom eating southern deep fried donuts and drinking Tab in the kitchen. My sisters and I tried to play with southern deep fried cousins we couldn't - didn't want to understand.
I remember my gramma holding court at a card table, Schlitz beer in one hand, cigarette in the other, slurring her words, blowing smoke and laughing. The right side of her face didn't work. It drooped from stroke, eye melting into cheek melting into lips like a wrinkled moist trout. My grampa, my mom's stepfather never spent much time with us. He'd go fishing or to the track to place bets on sleek ponies. He drank dark liquid out of a silver flask he kept in his back left pocket.
One summer, we spent a week in Kentucky while my dad interviewed in Tennessee and West Virginia. My mom drank more Tab in the kitchen with her stepsisters and my sisters, and I sat on Great Aunt Stella's front porch and drank lime aid and ate biscuits with strawberries and cream. Aunt Stella wore cat-eye glasses rimmed in rhinestones and sported the biggest, wobbliest cauliflower wart I ever saw on her red chin. Liver spots, raised veins and deep lines crisscrossed her hands - nightmare hands - and years later, my sisters and I would use eyebrow pencils and mascara to draw age scars like Aunt Stella during Halloween.
"Birdie," she said over and over, "you shore like music, don'tcha? You're just like your grandpappy. Your real grandpa, hon. He's long passed now. You have his eyes, hon. He'd come singing those mountain songs. He was Melungeon, you know."
Aunt Stella shut up when grannie or my mom poked their heads out of the house next door. She hummed to herself and rocked in her small wooden chair making a scrape, scrape, scrape sound against the gray and uneven wood slats of the porch. My sisters and I fanned ourselves with handmade paper fans decorated with bits of stray red yarn.
"Yup. You shore take his features, hon."
The next day I asked my mom what Melungeon meant.
"Where did you hear that word?"
My mom's voice was sharp and direct, so unlike her normal southern comfort.
"Did Aunt Stella say anything to you?"
"No, ma'am. I just read it in a book, that's all."
I didn't get an answer.
The rest of the week, my sisters and I played hide and seek in Aunt Stella's overgrown tomato beds and caught tadpoles in jars, let our feet dangle in the rushing creek, felt the algae and minnows and smooth rocks, let that water run over us. We ran back to the white lurching house in bare muddy feet, waited for dusk to catch fireflies and ate pickles wrapped with cheese. I heard Aunt Stella whisper something to Aunt Mary and Cousin Margaret - something like "Birdie – Melungeon - just look at her eyes, listen to her sing."
And yeah, I sang - songs from the radio about heartache and boys long gone wrong, and bits and pieces of that Kentucky country music so new to me, music I didn't hear where we lived in the cold north. My sisters didn't sing except in church. My mom and dad didn't raise the roof with yodels and bumps and grinds like me.
What's a Melungeon? I wondered. Aunt Stella made it sound like a bogeyman. She said it the same way she said "colored."
The last night of our Kentucky visit, we didn't chase fireflies. The sky brimmed with strange green-black clouds and the rains fell in torrents on the tin roof. I remember my gramma making me and my sisters hide under a table while a siren blew and blew and blew. Tornado! Tornado! The rain fell forever, my back was cramped from the table and I had to pee! Oh I had to pee; rain please stop!
And then I heard something small, something beautiful. It sounded like a guitar or a harp, but twangy and fast, and I bolted from under the table to the bathroom. Sitting on the waiting folding chair next to the bathroom door sat an old man with a banjo. I could barely see him in the dark, but I could tell his eyes were closed and his mouth was raised in a lopsided grin.
He picked a song, something sweet and quick, and he said in a low rumble, "Don't be worrying about the storm, dear. Just sing and it will pass. Music makes all things pass."
I ran back to the table. I forgot I had to pee. And I sang the songs I knew until the storm passed. The next day as we packed to leave, I asked my gramma who the man with the banjo was. She looked at me like I was crazy.
"Ain't no one play banjo here, Birdie."
She waved goodbye with her cigarette as our station wagon pulled out the drive.
The next week, I sat in the town library and read about Melungeons. Just people in the mountains, I thought. Why'd Aunt Stella get in such a huff? And ten years later, during a tornado spot in my life, I bought a banjo at a pawnshop and taught myself Red River Valley. I still play it today, all those songs, me and my banjo and my lopsided grin.

________________________________________________________
This next item was forwarded to me by Eileen Woods, who would like to share information with you about the shifts going on currently in the universe and how it affects our paranormal experiences. Hope you enjoy it!


Age of Aquarius Brings
More Paranormal Activity

World: We are heading into the 4th dimension and new level of
consciousness.

As many have noticed over the last few years, time seems to be going at a faster pace and there is much more in the open in regards to spirituality. There is a valid explanation for these phenomena. We are living the next evolution of mankind - that next stage on the timeline of mankind. This new age is known as the Age of Aquarius.
With this new paradigm, the veil between the 3-D world and the spirit world is lifting. When we are children, the veil has not been activated and that is why there are many who have memories of paranormal activity or have children who have these experiences. Many people are seeing, hearing, feeling and sensing energies in the awakened state as well as during sleep.
The world is in a spiritual war where the "light" is fighting the "dark." As a result of the veil lifting and this war going on, many are awakening to the interconnection that is occurring. If you are a lightworker or healer, the lower energies are seeking you out either for help or to stop you from evolving.
There is a lot of activity going on and it is helpful to understand how to respond. The dark energies thrive on fear...everything is energy and our thoughts are reflected in these energies. Fear is only perceived and created by our minds. By looking at every experience as just an experience and nothing more, then the lower energies cannot reflect any negative or fearful thoughts. Visits from family members are a form of love and guidance. There is more to life than just living. Our past, present and future are actually happening all at once and the time line between birth, death and afterlife is all the same.
There is no separation; it is an illusion, just like magic. This illusion is disappearing and becoming our visible reality. More and more, people will be experiencing paranormal activity, which will become the norm after the consciousness shift in the year 2012.
Some of the things you may be noticing are heightened senses of smell, touch, feeling and hearing. You may have chills, sudden unusual tastes in the mouth, voices, see shadows or see things moving in the day or night, sense a presence or feel brushing on the shoulder, neck or head. These are not things to fear; rather they are things to understand and recognize for what they are. Portals are opening and more beings (spirits) are able to come through and they are eager to communicate. Angels, spirit guides, loved ones and more are waiting for you to ask for help and guidance in moving through these transitions, and into the next evolution and level of consciousness.
If you have young children and they talk about nightmares or seeing things, give them love and let them know you believe them, and work with them to shield and protect. This is only the
Beginning. There is much more to come and many more paranormal activity yet for us to experience.
May the light be with you always! Namaste...Eileen
Wood, Serenity Expressions. http://www.serenityexpressions.com.

NEWS:

1) My new book “Playing With The Devil” which is a novel based on the true story of the horrid abuses suffered by 12 children in a Newfoundland, Canada family during the late ‘50s and early ‘60s is now available through Saga Books. To learn more about it, please visit: http://www.angelfire.com/planet/pwtd. To get a copy, please go to: http://www.sagabooks.net.
2) Well, it’s that time of year again – not just fall fairs, but also my city’s annual writer’s celebration called the Hamilton LitGrit Festival. A part of that is the Hamilton Small Press Fair where authors and publishers alike can showcase their work. I went last year to promote “Glimpses 2” and will be returning this year on the first weekend of November to do the same with “Playing With The Devil.” Authors come from all across Ontario and even the northern United States to take part in this event.
3) I just have to let you know that my book “Glimpses 2” has been reviewed on GhostVillage.com. You can read it here: http://www.ghostvillage.com/library/2006/lib_jette.shtml
4) My teleclass – So You Want To Be A Writer – is ongoing. If you want to learn the ins and outs of not only getting published, but also how to do it successfully and in the least amount of time, this course is for you. I cover everything from manuscript and proposal form, to how to keep the creative juices flowing, dealing with the media and more. You will also receive a tremendous amount of information that will save you not just hours, but months of research that will help you advertise and promote your book for nothing. To sign up for my six-week teleclass, just go to: http://www.theteleconnection.com

Now, here are some fun sites for you to check out!

a) Watch some interesting UFO videos and take part in UFO chat: http://www.aliensufosfreevideos.250x.com/
b) Learn about the laws of metaphysics: http://www.whatismetaphysics.com/
c) For everything spooky: Chasing Midnight http://www.chasingmidnight.com/CMS/index.php
d) Get the best of Bizarre News: http://scripts.gophercentral.com/pdf/bizarre.pdf
e) Listen to paranormal radio:
1) The X-Zone: http://www.xzone-radio.com or
2) http://www.coasttocoastam.com/
____________________________________________________

Well, gotta run! Halloween is coming and I have to make sure my front porch is all decked out with the finest in scary stuff for all those little ones coming to visit. Hope your Halloween is a real blast!

Until next time, remember: “Life is a gift; enjoy the present!”

All the Best,
Martha
________________________________________________________