Tag: writing

Combatting Scam Calls: Protect Your Phone and Privacy

Scam Calls Are Taking Over: Are Our Phones Becoming Worthless?

Let’s face it: our phones, once cutting-edge tools of connection and convenience, are slowly turning into sources of frustration. If you’re like me, you’ve probably noticed how scam calls are taking over our lives, making us second-guess every incoming call. How many of us actually answer our phones anymore when we don’t recognize the number? For me, it’s almost never. And honestly, can you blame me?I get hundreds of scam calls every week, and it’s exhausting. From fake IRS agents to warranty renewal scams, my phone rings constantly with fraudulent attempts to steal my money or personal information. As a result, I’ve developed a strict “don’t answer” rule: if I don’t know the number, I let it go to voicemail. If it’s important, the caller can leave a message. But is that really the answer? Shouldn’t there be a better solution than just dodging calls?

Why Are Scam Calls Legal?

Here’s the part that really baffles me: why is it legal for scammers to hijack our phones like this? Let’s break it down.

We pay for our phones: We’re the ones footing the bill for our phones, lines, and data plans (not to mention the time we lose dealing with these calls). Yet scammers and telemarketers are allowed to freely intrude on our lives without accountability.
No consent required: Many of these calls come without prior consent. They’re random, unsolicited, and often predatory. It feels invasive, and honestly, it should be illegal.
Robocalls are everywhere: It’s not just scammers. Even legitimate businesses and political campaigns use robocalls to bombard us with messages. And while their intentions may not be criminal, the frustration they cause is very real.

Why Isn’t There Stronger Legislation?

It’s 2026, and the problem seems worse than ever. Why can’t we have effective legislation that cracks down on scam calls and robocalls? Think about it: these callers don’t pay for your phone, your line, or your time, so why do they have the right to disrupt your day?Sure, there’s been some progress. In the U.S., for instance, there’s the Telephone Consumer Protection Act (TCPA) and recent efforts like the TRACED Act, which aim to curb illegal robocalls. Technologies like STIR/SHAKEN, which verify the authenticity of caller IDs, are also being implemented by carriers. But let’s be honest; these measures haven’t solved the problem. Scammers are constantly finding loopholes, and enforcement isn’t strong enough to deter them.

The Impact on Everyday Life

Let’s talk about what this means for us, the average phone users. Scam calls don’t just waste our time; they erode trust. We’re now conditioned to ignore calls from unknown numbers, which has real consequences. What if it’s a potential employer? A doctor’s office? A friend or family member calling from a new number? The constant barrage of scam calls makes it harder for us to stay connected in meaningful ways.

What Can Be Done?

So, what’s the solution? Here are some ideas:

Stronger penalties for scammers and telemarketers: Governments need to enforce stricter laws and impose harsher consequences for illegal calls. This includes holding companies accountable for the robocalls they send.
Improved technology: Phone carriers should continue to innovate ways to block scam calls before they even reach us. Apps like Hiya, Truecaller, and Nomorobo are a step in the right direction, but we need these features to be built into every phone system by default.
Public awareness campaigns: Educating people about common scams and how to protect themselves can help limit the success of these fraudulent calls.
Opt-in systems for legitimate calls: What if businesses and political campaigns could only call us if we explicitly opted in? That way, we’d have more control over who can contact us.

What Do You Think?

I’m tired of feeling like my phone is more of a liability than a tool. Scam calls are making our phones almost worthless, and something needs to change. But what about you? Are you facing the same problem? Do you ignore unknown numbers, too? And what solutions would you like to see to stop this epidemic of scam calls?Let me know your thoughts in the comments below. Let’s start the conversation, because if we don’t demand change, who will?

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About the Cover Picture: What would you do if your body remembered a story the world tried to erase?

Marisol Reyes believed her life was ordinary, until the night words began to surface on her skin. They burn like embers and speak of a past she has never known: a forgotten village, a family secret, and a legacy passed through blood and bone across generations. Her grandmother carried these memories in silence. Now the words have found their way to her.

As Marisol uncovers the truth about San Miguel de la Luz, a village destroyed in 1963 and erased from history, she learns that her family’s story is woven into the ambitions of a powerful corporation desperate to keep its secrets buried. With the help of Daniel Medina (a boy whose own family is bound to the betrayal that led to San Miguel’s destruction), Marisol must choose whether to remain silent or risk everything to bring the truth into the light.

Written in Skin is a gripping novel of magical realism, historical trauma, and the fight to reclaim lost histories. Perfect for fans of Isabel Allende, Silvia Moreno-Garcia, and stories that braid the mystical with the deeply human, this is a tale about memory, resilience, and the power of words that refuse to stay buried.

Get your copy here.

When Field Day Falls Flat: A Veteran Ham’s Lament

Every summer, on the fourth full weekend of June, amateur radio operators across North America haul out their gear, string up wire antennas in trees, fire up generators, and take to the airwaves for one of the hobby’s signature events: ARRL Field Day. This year, having relatively recently relocated to East Texas, I made a special effort to track down my local club and introduce myself. My motives were simple. First, I wanted to support the local club. Second, I wanted to see how active and engaged they were in showcasing our great hobby to the public.What I found left me, frankly, disappointed. In all my years in this hobby—and I’ve been licensed since 1973—I have never seen such a lackadaisical display in my life.

What Field Day Is Supposed to Be

For the uninitiated, let me back up and explain what Field Day actually is, because understanding its purpose makes my disappointment a little clearer.Field Day is sponsored annually by the American Radio Relay League (ARRL), the national association for amateur radio in the United States. It began in 1933 and has grown into the single most popular on-air activity in all of amateur radio, drawing more than 30,000 participants each year across the U.S. and Canada.At its heart, Field Day is part emergency-preparedness exercise, part contest, and part public demonstration. The core idea is to practice operating under field conditions—away from the comfort of a home station, often running on emergency or alternative power such as generators, batteries, or solar. The skills exercised are precisely the ones that matter when hurricanes, tornadoes, ice storms, or other disasters knock out conventional communications. Amateur radio operators have a long and proud history of providing emergency communication when nothing else is working, and Field Day is where we sharpen that edge.But Field Day is also about the public. The ARRL explicitly encourages clubs to invite the community, elected officials, and the press to come see what amateur radio can do. There’s even a Get-On-The-Air (GOTA) station specifically designed so that newcomers, visitors, and lapsed hams can sit down, key the microphone, and make a contact under the guidance of a control operator. It is, in the truest sense, an open house for a hobby that depends on bringing in new blood.

What I Found Instead

So what did I find when I rolled up to my local Field Day site? A small parking lot with maybe a half-dozen cars and two—count them, two—air-conditioned trailers. Under a shade tree sat exactly one person, watching over a few folding tables loaded with old CB radios and antiquated equipment from a bygone era.It seemed the event had been repurposed as a swap meet. Meanwhile, the folks who owned those trailers were, as best I could tell, playing radio in air-conditioned comfort with absolutely no public access. They were, in effect, portable shacks—closed off, insular, and inviting nobody in.I won’t name the club they represented, and that’s rather the whole point: I had no idea who they were beyond “some hams,” and judging by the swap-table merchandise, more than a few ex-CBers.

How It Used to Be Done

Contrast this with Field Day as I’ve known it for the better part of five decades. In years past, there was a real rhythm to the weekend. On Friday night we’d gather as a club to erect antennas—dipoles, verticals, beams hoisted on push-up masts—working together, swapping stories, and getting the site ready.From the start time on Saturday afternoon until the quitting time on Sunday, every contact we made went into the log. And critically, visitors were welcomed. We’d encourage them to listen for a bit to the rhythm of the bands, then hand them the microphone to make a contact of their own. That little taste was often enough to whet someone’s appetite—to either upgrade their existing license or to start the process of getting licensed and joining the organization.What I witnessed this year was, quite simply, not that.

The Real Takeaway: Be an Elmer

Here’s the lesson I keep coming back to. In ham radio tradition, an “Elmer” is a mentor—an experienced operator who takes a newcomer under their wing and shows them the ropes. The term has been part of our culture for generations, and it points to the single most important survival mechanism this hobby has.It is clearly up to those of us who know what this event is supposed to be to get involved in our local clubs and Elmer them. We need to gently nudge them in the right direction, remind them that Field Day is not a private swap meet in the air conditioning, but a showcase, an invitation, and a recruiting opportunity. If we don’t, this wonderful hobby may well go the way of the telegraph: a quaint relic remembered fondly but practiced by almost no one.I’m not writing this to scold anyone. I’m writing it as a wake-up call to myself as much as anyone else. The seasoned operators among us carry both the knowledge and the responsibility.

Want to learn more? Visit the ARRL Field Day page at arrl.org/field-day, or search for an upcoming licensing class and Field Day event near you. If you’re a licensed operator, consider being someone’s Elmer this year.

About The Image: Echoes of Tomorrow is a sci fi novel I wrote with Ham Radio as a plot device.

What if the future could speak to you… and what if it had already begun to scream?They said the signal was just noise. Background static. The random hiss of a universe winding down.They were wrong. Buried in the cosmic murmur was a voice—faint, deliberate, and unmistakably human. A voice that hadn’t been spoken yet. A warning sent backward across the silence, carried on frequencies no one was supposed to be listening to. But someone was. In Echoes of Tomorrow, the line between memory and prophecy dissolves. Every choice leaves a trace. Every trace leaves an echo. And somewhere out in the dark between the stars, those echoes are folding back on themselves, reaching for the one person who can still hear them before it’s too late.The past is fixed. The future is listening. And tomorrow has already started sending messages home. Some echoes don’t fade. They wait.

Prime Day and the Human Face of Amazon

Jeff Bezos built an empire by understanding one fundamental truth about modern consumers: we crave instant gratification. With a click, our desires materialize on our doorsteps, sometimes within hours. It’s a remarkable feat of logistics and psychology working in tandem.

The Retail Evolution

We’ve witnessed this transformation before. Large box stores swept through America, turning thriving small-town main streets into ghost towns as mom-and-pop shops closed their doors. Now, Amazon is doing the same to shopping malls. The retail landscape continues to shift beneath our feet. But here’s the thing, Amazon’s dominance isn’t guaranteed. It could unravel quickly if the company overlooks a critical detail: delivery drivers are the human face of Amazon.

When Cameras Are Watching

Cameras are everywhere now. Ring doorbells (ironically, an Amazon-owned company) capture every interaction between drivers and our front porches. When a delivery driver stands several feet back and tosses a package onto the concrete, customers notice. That toss communicates something…whether it’s exhaustion, frustration, or contempt. The perception matters, even if the driver is simply overwhelmed.

The Prime Day Problem

During Prime Day, order volumes surge dramatically. Drivers face longer routes, heavier loads, and tighter schedules. That’s understandably stressful. However, this increased demand is precisely why they have jobs. Customers aren’t inconveniences, they’re the entire reason the position exists.Combine rough handling with Amazon’s often minimal packaging, and you have a recipe for damaged goods and frustrated customers.

A Simple Solution

Perhaps it’s time for Amazon to invest in a genuine conversation with their delivery teams. A reminder that every toss, every interaction, and every doorstep moment shapes the brand. Customers are watching—literally.Gratitude goes a long way. So does setting a package down gently.

#PrimeDay
#PrimeDay2026
#AmazonPrimeDay
#Amazon
#AmazonDelivery
#JeffBezos

About the cover: He has watched empires rise and fall. He has walked through plagues, wars, and revolutions. Yet for over five hundred years, only one thing has kept him tethered to this world—her face, frozen in oil and pigment, imprisoned behind a gilded frame.When a powerful king discovered his daughter had given her heart to a creature of the night, he turned to dark sorcery to end the affair permanently. He couldn’t kill the vampire. So instead, he trapped the princess somewhere far more cruel—inside a painting, suspended between life and death, visible but forever untouchable.The vampire has never stopped searching for a way to free her.Now, posing as a respected museum curator, he has finally uncovered an ancient ritual that might shatter the curse. But magic this old demands a price. And after centuries of patience, he must ask himself:How much is he willing to lose to bring her back?

Genre & Comparables

Magical realism with gothic romance elements—perfect for fans of The Invisible Life of Addie LaRue, Interview with the Vampire, and The Night Circus. The Girl in the Guilded Frame

250,000 Girls…You’ve got to be joking?!

I am not going to lie, these reports from the UK disturbed me to my core. How did this happen? What are we going to do about it now? Yes, I have given it some thought instead of sleeping. You might wish to share this…Our officials in this country need to respond.

Protecting Young Minds: Screen Time, Mental Health, and the Case for Comprehensive Education

Introduction

The digital age has brought unprecedented access to information, connection, and, unfortunately, content that poses serious risks to developing minds. From violent pornography to influencer misinformation, children today face threats that previous generations never encountered at such scale. These are not abstract concerns. They are urgent public health issues demanding thoughtful, evidence-based responses.This post examines the interconnected problems of harmful screen time, online exploitation, and mental health deterioration among young people, while proposing education-centered solutions that respect constitutional freedoms and empower the next generation.

The Scope of the Problem: Sexual Violence and Online Exploitation

Recent revelations from the United Kingdom have exposed a horrific reality: more than 250,000 vulnerable girls were groomed and gang-raped over the course of a decade or longer, while authorities, including police and social workers, failed to intervene despite having knowledge of the abuse . A whistleblower finally brought these atrocities to light, and the accounts are deeply disturbing.The United States is not immune to sexual violence. According to recent statistics, 127,527 rape cases were reported in 2024, at a rate of 37.5 per 100,000 inhabitants . The FBI reported an estimated 139,815 rapes in 2019, a figure 2.7 percent lower than 2018 but 10.8 percent higher than the 2015 estimate . One analysis indicates that reported rape cases have risen over the last decade at an annual rate of approximately 2.9 percent .Research suggests that pornography, especially violent content, plays a role in shaping attitudes and behaviors that contribute to sexual violence. However, it is likely one factor among many, including childhood experiences, peer influences, mental health, and substance use .

Why Age Matters: The Developing Brain

The prefrontal cortex, responsible for judgment, impulse control, and understanding consequences, is the last brain region to fully develop . This biological reality carries significant implications:

Children and teens are more susceptible to normalizing what they see.
They lack the cognitive tools to contextualize violent or degrading sexual acts.
Neural pathways formed during exposure can have lasting effects on attitudes and behaviors.

Effects on Children Ages Five and Up

The research on early childhood exposure to pornography is particularly alarming .

Immediate Emotional Responses: Children report feelings of disgust, shock, embarrassment, anger, fear, and sadness after viewing pornography. Exposure at young ages often results in anxiety, and these children can suffer all the symptoms of anxiety and depression .

Behavioral Consequences: Children may become obsessed with acting out adult sexual acts they have witnessed, which can be highly disruptive . One comparative analysis found that youth who committed sexual offenses had earlier exposure (between ages five and eight) to pornographic material compared to other delinquent youth. Notably, youth who offended against other children were exposed to this material most frequently .

Long-Term Developmental Harm: Exposure to pornography at a young age may lead to poor mental health, sexism, objectification, sexual violence, and other negative outcomes. When children view pornography portraying abusive and misogynistic acts, they may come to view such behavior as normal and acceptable .

General Mental Health Effects of Screen Time

Research demonstrates that excessive screen time carries significant mental health implications. A U.S. study found that teens who spent more than three hours per day on social media faced almost double the risk for mental health challenges, particularly symptoms of depression and anxiety . Regular social media use has been linked to feelings of anxiety, depression, and lower self-esteem in vulnerable youth .For children and adolescents specifically, over-digitalization can trigger a chain of negative physiological effects, including dysregulation of neural circuitry related to serotonin and dopamine, key neurotransmitters involved in mood regulation .

The Influencer Effect and Misinformation

Constant exposure to idealized versions of influencers can take a powerful toll on self-esteem and create unrealistic expectations that no one can achieve . What proves particularly troubling is how we process influencer content: even highly informed, alert individuals who know factually that they are not seeing every aspect of an influencer’s life do not process that information emotionally in the same way . When influencers present opinions as facts, especially incorrect ones, this creates a compounded problem :

Emotional processing overrides critical thinking: Viewers tend to absorb information emotionally rather than analytically.
Trust dynamics: Followers often develop parasocial relationships with influencers, making them more susceptible to accepting claims without verification.
Self-esteem damage: When incorrect advice about health, success, or relationships does not work, individuals may blame themselves rather than questioning the source.

Congressional Approaches That Respect Rights

Congress faces the challenge of balancing efforts to combat harmful misinformation while respecting First Amendment protections . Several constitutionally sound approaches have been proposed or could be expanded.

Promoting Media Literacy Education: The Educating Against Misinformation and Disinformation Act (H.R. 6971) provides a strong model. This legislation directs the Department of Education to study and promote media literacy, including methods to identify misinformation, evaluate context for information from different sources, detect manipulation of images or information on digital platforms, and understand how influencers target and manipulate audiences . The bill also authorizes competitive grants to nonprofits and institutions of higher education to develop educational materials and public awareness campaigns .

Funding Research and Developing National Strategy: Congress could mandate a national strategy for information and media literacy along with required reports containing recommendations for legislative or administrative action . This approach keeps the focus on empowering citizens rather than restricting speech.

Transparency Requirements: Legislation like the Honest Ads Act focuses on transparency in political advertising online, a model that could extend to requiring clearer disclosure when influencers are paid or incentivized .The education-first approach appears to be the most rights-respecting path forward, empowering people to think critically rather than deciding what they can or cannot see .

The Case for Tailored Mental Health Education in Schools

The evidence is clear: schools are uniquely positioned to serve as primary settings for mental health promotion for students in grades K through 12 . With the near-universal exposure of young people to harmful online content, social media pressures, and real-world threats, a comprehensive and tailored approach to mental health education is no longer optional; it is a public health imperative .

Why Tailored Education Matters

A one-size-fits-all approach fails children. Schools in different environments face distinct challenges: urban schools may need to address gang violence or drug abuse, while rural schools might focus on social isolation or limited access to mental health services . Similarly, age and developmental stage must determine what content is appropriate and how it is delivered.Young people themselves have indicated they believe educational institutions should provide information and raise awareness of mental health issues . This is their expressed need, and we should listen.Curricula must include medically accurate and developmentally appropriate information that addresses different health experiences and behaviors for youth of all ages and abilities . A tiered approach might include:

Ages 5 to 10: Foundational concepts about emotions, personal boundaries, trusted adults, and recognizing uncomfortable situations
Ages 11 to 14: Expanded education on online safety, manipulation tactics, healthy versus unhealthy relationships, and early warning signs of exploitation
Ages 15 to 18 and beyond: Comprehensive discussions including real-world case studies, digital literacy, consent, and understanding how predators operate

Should Education Include Difficult Real-World Examples?

The question of whether to include difficult real-world examples, such as the organized grooming gangs documented in the United Kingdom, deserves careful consideration.

The argument for inclusion (delivered in age-appropriate ways): These are not abstract threats. The UK grooming gang scandals, spanning cities like Rotherham, Rochdale, Telford, and others, involved the systematic exploitation of hundreds of thousands of vulnerable children over decades . Similar patterns exist globally. Children deserve to understand that such threats are real, not hypothetical.

Knowledge is protection. Many victims of grooming gangs have described not recognizing the signs of manipulation because no one had taught them what exploitation looks like . Education that includes real patterns of predatory behavior, such as being “befriended,” given gifts, isolated from family, or introduced to substances, can help children identify danger before it escalates.Such education also combats normalization. As discussed, exposure to violent pornography leads some children to view abusive behavior as normal . Counter-education using real cases demonstrates that such behavior is criminal, harmful, and absolutely unacceptable, regardless of how it may be portrayed online.

Responsible implementation requires:

Age-appropriate framing: Younger children do not need graphic details; they need to understand boundaries, trusted adults, and that some people try to trick children. Older students can handle more specific case studies.
Trained educators: Teachers should receive professional development workshops led by mental health professionals to recognize early signs of issues and deliver sensitive content appropriately .
Support systems in place: Any education on difficult topics must be paired with access to counseling and reporting mechanisms. School-based mental health support needs to be fully funded .
Empowerment, not fear: The goal is to build resilience and recognition skills, not to traumatize. Framing should emphasize that adults failed to protect these children and that systems are being improved to prevent future harm .

Integrating Mental Health with Safety Education

Effective programs combine classroom-level and student-level interventions to sustain educational, health, and mental health improvements . This means incorporating anti-bullying programs and socioemotional learning as core components, teaching children to communicate about mental health with trusted adults, addressing the impact of social media and digital platforms on mental health, and creating mental health champions within schools.The connection between online exploitation, pornography exposure, mental health deterioration, and real-world sexual violence must be taught as an interconnected reality, not as isolated topics .

Conclusion

Protecting children in the digital age requires acknowledging uncomfortable truths about the threats they face and responding with comprehensive, evidence-based education. By investing in media literacy, tailored mental health curricula, and trauma-informed teaching practices, we can empower young people to recognize danger, build resilience, and develop the critical thinking skills necessary to navigate an increasingly complex world.Our children are our greatest treasure. It is time our policies and educational systems reflected that truth.

I realize that this is not my normal material on this site. I usually showcase my writing via some short story or perhaps offer writing or publishing advice. This news brought tears, anger, and disgust. The prime minister resigned, and so should that worthless mayor, he knew. Anyone that looked the other way should face consequences. Comment below if you care to discuss this.-Best

The Eyes That Held Starlight

A Tale of Moonflowers and Magic

The autumn market was closing, its last lanterns breathing embers into the violet dusk, when Thomas first saw her.She stood behind a stall of dried herbs, strange glass vials, and most curiously, a single potted flower with tightly furled white petals that seemed to pulse with an inner glow . Her dark hair cascaded over a cloak the color of midnight, and the shadows pooled at her feet like devoted creatures, swaying when she did not move. The other vendors avoided her corner, whispering words like hex and cursed, but Thomas had never been one to heed whispers.

“You’re staring,” she said without looking up, her fingers sorting bundles of lavender. The dried flowers seemed to bloom again beneath her touch, their brittle gray stalks flushing with impossible color .

“Forgive me.” He stepped closer, his eyes drawn to the mysterious flower on her table.

“I’ve never seen anyone so…”

“Dangerous?”

A smile tugged at her lips.

“Lonely.”

The word hung between them, and for a moment, the wind itself paused to listen . As if in response, the white flower on her stall began to stir, its petals unfurling ever so slightly, though the sun had not yet fully set.Her hands stilled. For the first time, she lifted her gaze to meet his.Her eyes were the color of amber holding ancient insects, of honey left too long in the sun ; and Thomas felt, with sudden certainty, that she had looked at him this way before, not yesterday, not in any life he could name, but somewhere, in a time that existed only in the margins of dreaming.

“The moonflower,” she breathed, glancing at the plant in wonder. “It only opens for those whose hearts carry magic. It has never bloomed for a stranger before.”

“You should go,” she added softly. The lavender in her hands had wilted again, its petals curling inward like small fists . “Men who see loneliness instead of danger rarely survive the difference.”I know you, he thought, though he did not speak it aloud. I have always known you.

But the moonflower continued its impossible unfurling, releasing a perfume like silver and starlight and forgotten promises. Its luminous petals reached toward Thomas as though greeting an old friend.Thomas did not step back.”Perhaps,” he said, “I’m not interested in surviving.”

Something flickered behind her amber gaze…a light that did not belong to the lanterns, a light, he would later realize, that did not belong to this world at all .She laughed, quiet and unwilling, and the sound tasted of rain.

Thomas had expected darkness when he looked deeper into her eyes.He found instead an impossible cosmos: her irises swirled with flecks of gold and violet, like nebulae being born in the depths of her gaze. He saw the slow wheeling of constellations that had no names, the birth and death of stars compressed into the space of a heartbeat .The world around him dissolved.He felt the hum of the earth beneath his feet, a vibration older than language. He heard the silent song of the wind, a melody that had been playing since the first breath of creation. He sensed the threads of energy connecting every living thing, and woven through it all, he saw them: moonflowers, thousands upon thousands, blooming across the world in secret gardens and forgotten groves, their white petals opening like prayers to the night sky, each one a vessel of pure, ancient magic.When he finally blinked, the market had returned. But something had shifted. In his chest, where his heart had once beat in simple rhythm, there now thrummed a second pulse, faint, foreign, and unmistakably hers .”What… what was that?”

“Magic,” she whispered, and the word left her lips like a living thing . The moonflower on her stall had now bloomed fully, its petals impossibly bright in the gathering darkness. “But it shouldn’t be possible. Only those with the gift can see it reflected back.”

“I don’t have any gift.”Even as he spoke, Thomas felt the lie of it. That second pulse in his chest beat stronger now, syncing with hers in a rhythm that predated time itself .She reached out, her fingers brushing his cheek, warm, trembling, carrying the static charge of a thousand unspoken words.

Where her skin met his, he felt something unfurl inside him: a door opening onto a room he had never known existed .”Perhaps you didn’t,” she said. “Until now.”She pressed the moonflower into his hands. Its petals were cool as moonlight against his palms, and where he held it, the glow intensified…two magics recognizing each other at last.Above them, unnoticed by the departing merchants, a single star blinked into existence in the still-violet sky…newborn, impossible, and burning only for them .

They met every evening after that, in a secret grove where moonflowers grew wild, their luminous blooms turning the forest floor into a sea of living starlight.Elara, for that was her name, she finally confessed, a name that meant “shining light”…taught him to listen to the language of flames .

She taught him to coax flowers into bloom with a thought, though his first attempts produced only roses that wept silver and daisies that opened their petals at midnight, confused and luminous .But what Thomas treasured most were the quiet moments: her laughter when he failed spectacularly, the way she leaned into him when the night grew cold, as though his warmth were the only magic she had ever truly needed.

“The moonflowers,” she told him one night, as they lay among the glowing blooms, “they only grow where true love has touched the earth. That’s why people fear me…I tend gardens that remind them what they’ve lost. What they’ve never been brave enough to find.”She turned to face him, and he saw tears gleaming like captured moons in her amber eyes.”For so long, I thought I was meant to be alone. The keeper of magic no one wanted. The guardian of flowers that bloomed only in darkness.

“Thomas cupped her face in his hands. Around them, the moonflowers blazed brighter, responding to the emotion swelling between them.”They’ll never accept us,” she whispered. “A witch and the carpenter’s son .”Thomas took her hand. Where their fingers intertwined, small sparks drifted upward, lazy and golden, vanishing into the dark .”Then we’ll build our own world. Here, among your flowers. Where the only light we need blooms from the love we tend.”She turned to him, and in her eyes he saw not just magic now, but something far more powerful: hope .

“You saw me,” Elara whispered. Her voice trembled with the weight of years spent unseen. “When everyone else only saw something to fear, you saw me .”He kissed her beneath a canopy of moonflowers, and the magic between them needed no spell to ignite. Every bloom in the grove opened at once, releasing a perfume so sweet it would linger in that place for a hundred years. The grass beneath them bloomed out of season; the wind carried the scent of jasmine from a garden that existed only in memory .And the moonflowers…those faithful keepers of night and magic and impossible love, they whispered their blessing in a language only hearts could understand.

Some say love is its own kind of sorcery, the oldest and most unbreakable magic of all . And perhaps they are right.For in the years that followed, long after the village had crumbled to dust and the forest had swallowed the meadow whole, their story remained . It lived in every moonflower that dared to bloom, each white petal a love letter, each silver glow a promise that even the loneliest hearts, if they are brave enough to see past the danger, can find their way home to each other.And on quiet nights, when the moon hangs full and heavy, they say you can still find that grove, carpeted in eternal white blossoms, fragrant with magic, forever tended by two souls who proved that the deepest enchantment of all is simply this:To be truly seen.

The End

What did you think? I’d love to hear your thoughts in the comments below! Did this story make your heart flutter? Bring a tear to your eye? Remind you of someone special? Let’s chat about it. I read every single comment and truly treasure your reflections. 💬And if this little story touched your soul, please share it with someone who could use a dose of love today. Maybe it’s a friend going through a tough time who needs a gentle pick-me-up. Perhaps it’s someone whose heart is healing and could use a reminder that romance still exists in this world. Or maybe it’s simply someone who deserves to smile today.Stories like this are meant to be passed along, like love notes tucked into unexpected places.Share it. Spread the warmth. Let’s remind each other that tenderness still matters. 💕Until next time, keep believing in love…the quiet kind, the bold kind, and everything in between.

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The Woman Who Learned to Listen

Elena had forgotten the sound of her own breathing. Forty-seven years of city noise, deadlines, and the electric hum of fluorescent lights had buried it somewhere beneath layers of static, pressed into that velvet darkness where forgotten things take root and wait.

So when her doctor (a soft-spoken woman whose silver-threaded hair caught light that wasn’t there, holding it like small, patient ghosts) told her to “find stillness,” Elena drove until the road turned to gravel and the gravel turned to sand.

The highway signs began to lose their letters somewhere past the third town, words slipping away like names from an aging tongue. She did not find this strange. The sand, when she finally stopped, hummed a frequency just beneath hearing, a sound her lungs seemed to recognize before she did. When she inhaled, truly inhaled, the breath tasted of salt and years, and something inside her chest unfolded like a letter she had written to herself long ago and never sent.

The beach was unremarkable at first glance. Gray-blue water. Foam curling like lace against the shore.

A weathered wooden bench that seemed to have grown from the dunes rather than been placed there; its grain twisted in the same spirals as the seagrass, its wood soft and salt-worn, remembering tides it had no business knowing.

She sat.

For the first hour, nothing happened. Her mind churned with grocery lists and unanswered emails, those small tyrannies of the living. But as the sun dipped lower, painting the clouds in shades of apricot and rose, Elena noticed something peculiar.

The waves were speaking.

Not in words, exactly, but in rhythm; a language older than syllables, older than the naming of things. And stranger still, she understood them. Each wave that kissed the shore carried a message: Let go. Let go. Let go. The words arrived not through her ears but through her sternum, settling into her ribs like birds returning to a familiar roost.

She laughed, thinking herself foolish.

But then she saw the herons. Three of them stood in the shallows, perfectly still, their reflections unbroken on the water’s surface (as if the sea had chosen, just for them, to hold its breath). And as Elena watched, they turned their long necks toward her in unison, not with curiosity, but with recognition, as though they had been waiting for her all along, as though her name had been written in the tide charts for forty-seven years.

Over the following days, Elena returned to the bench. She learned that if she sat quietly enough, the sea would show her things. Memories rose from the water like mist: her grandmother’s hands kneading bread (flour dusting the air like small, edible stars), her daughter’s first steps, a summer evening when she’d felt, for one perfect moment, completely whole. These visions arrived without explanation, and Elena did not ask for one. The sea gave what it chose to give.

The tide pulled her grief out gently, grain by grain, carrying it past the breakwater to wherever sorrow goes when it is finally ready to leave.

One morning, an old man appeared beside her. His skin was weathered like driftwood, and his eyes held the silver of deep water; not the color of it, but its weight, its patience, its memory of every drowned thing it had ever cradled. He smelled of salt and woodsmoke and something older, something before.

“You’re learning,” he said.

“Learning what?”

He smiled and gestured toward the endless horizon, where the sky stitched itself to the sea with threads of light. “That peace isn’t something you find. It’s something you become when you stop running from the silence.”

When Elena turned to respond, he was gone. In his place, a single white feather rested on the bench, still warm, as though it had only just remembered how to be still.

She never told anyone about the speaking waves or the herons or the old man who might have been the sea itself wearing a human shape, trying on bones and breath the way one tries on an old coat. Some truths aren’t meant for telling; only for carrying, quietly, like a stone smoothed by centuries of water. They live best in the body’s hidden rooms, in the spaces between heartbeats where language has no jurisdiction.

But her daughter noticed the change.

“You breathe differently now,” she said one evening, her voice soft with something close to wonder. “Like you finally have enough air.”

Elena smiled and thought of the ocean, still murmuring its ancient lullaby miles away, singing her name in a voice made of foam and forgetting.

She thought of the bench that grew from the dunes, the feather she still kept in her pocket (warm, always warm, as though it remembered flight). She thought of how silence, when you stop fearing it, becomes a kind of homecoming.

Somewhere, past the city lights and the hum of a world that never rests, the tide was turning. And deep in her chest, where her breath had finally learned to settle, Elena felt the waves answer.

Let go. Let go. Let go.

She had. And in the letting go, she had, at last, arrived.

When clickbait and other forms of noise enter your life, remember this story. The clamor of the city does not stop at your front door; it slips through your screens like water through cracks, hums from the radio in frequencies designed to unsettle, and arrives even through friends who carry their own static, their own buried breath, their own need to hear what the waves have always been saying.

Fear and anxiety are not merely emotions. They are small, patient thieves. They breed toxins in the marrow, shorten the years the body was promised, and fill the spaces where stillness ought to live with a noise that masquerades as urgency.

But somewhere, there is a bench growing from the dunes. Somewhere, herons stand in the shallows, waiting with recognition in their ancient eyes. Somewhere, the tide is turning, ready to carry your grief out past the breakwater, grain by grain, to wherever sorrow goes when it is finally ready to leave.

Sit by the ocean (or by whatever ocean you can find; silence wears many shapes). Listen for the rhythm older than syllables.

And let it go.

Let it go.

—Scott

He spent his whole life working. Now he has nothing but time.

Jack Harper was the most dedicated employee his company ever had. Forty-one years without missing a deadline. Forty-one years without truly living.

When a forced retirement leaves him lost in the silence of his empty apartment, a letter from beyond the grave changes everything. His oldest friend, Ed, has died and left Jack a farmhouse in Vermont, along with a message he can no longer ignore:

“You’ve spent your whole life working. Now, it’s time to actually live.”

But the farmhouse holds more than memories. An antique radio plays songs from decades past. Fireflies rise from the grass like childhood returning. And sometimes, in the golden light of sunset, Jack sees Ed standing at the edge of the overgrown rose garden, waiting. Can a man learn to live when he’s spent a lifetime forgetting how?

12 Activities to Energize Your Writers’ Group and Elevate the Craft

May 28, 2026

As the director of a League of Writers, I’m constantly searching for activities that bring genuine value to our members. Over time, I’ve realized that writers’ groups exist everywhere—each one filled with passionate individuals striving to improve their craft and find community. With that in mind, I’ve compiled a list of activities that have worked well for us and might benefit your group too.Whether you’re leading a small local circle or a larger organization, these ideas can transform your meetings into dynamic spaces for creativity, learning, and mutual support.

1. Guest Speakers and Workshops

Inviting guest speakers breathes fresh energy into any group. Consider reaching out to published authors, editors, literary agents, or experts in fields relevant to your members’ interests.For example:

A sci-fi author could discuss world-building techniques
A psychologist could share insights into crafting realistic characters with complex psychological profiles
A comedian or humorist could explore how to weave humor into prose

These sessions expose members to new perspectives and provide invaluable insider knowledge.

2. Critique and Feedback Sessions

Constructive feedback is the lifeblood of improvement. Establish a structured critique process that feels safe and productive:

Writers read their work aloud or distribute it beforehand
Listeners provide constructive feedback while the author listens quietly—no defending or explaining during the critique
End with a Q&A where the author can ask clarifying questions

This approach helps writers truly absorb feedback rather than react defensively, allowing them to refine their craft with fresh eyes.

3. Creative Writing Prompts and Challenges

Prompts spark imagination and push writers outside their comfort zones. Try these approaches:

Write a short story based on a single evocative word or phrase
Use provocative music or artwork as inspiration for a scene
Challenge members to write in a genre they’ve never attempted—sci-fi, psychological thriller, romance, or horror

The element of surprise and constraint often produces surprisingly powerful work.

4. Themed Writing Exercises

Align exercises with your group’s collective interests:

Humor Writing: Craft a comedic piece inspired by a favorite comedian’s style
World-Building: Collaboratively create a fictional universe, with each member contributing a unique element—technology, culture, history, or geography
Character Deep Dives: Develop a character harboring a dark secret and brainstorm how it could drive an entire plot

Themed exercises create cohesion and allow members to learn from each other’s interpretations.

5. Book and Style Analysis

Studying the masters sharpens our own skills. Dedicate sessions to analyzing published work:

Compare the opening lines of two novels to discuss style, tone, and hooks
Have members share a favorite book and explain why the author’s voice resonates with them
Dissect humor writing techniques by examining essays or routines from beloved comedians

Understanding why something works teaches us how to replicate that magic.

6. Writing Retreats

There’s something transformative about stepping away from daily life to focus entirely on writing. Organize a retreat where members can immerse themselves in their projects:

A weekend getaway at a cabin, hotel, or retreat center
A virtual retreat with scheduled writing blocks and group check-ins

The camaraderie, shared goals, and uninterrupted focus can be profoundly motivating—and often produce breakthrough progress.

7. “Brags” and Celebrations

Writing can be isolating, and achievements often go unnoticed. Dedicate time at each meeting for members to share their wins:

Completing a chapter or draft
Submitting a manuscript to agents or publishers
Publishing a piece, receiving positive feedback, or hitting a word count goal

Celebrate these milestones with applause, small rewards, or simple acknowledgment. This fosters a sense of accomplishment and reminds everyone that progress—however small—matters.

8. Collaborative Projects

Working together builds community and teaches valuable lessons about the writing process:

Anthology: Each member contributes a short story around a shared theme
Collaborative Novel: Use the Snowflake Method or another plotting technique to outline a novel together, then divide chapters among members
Round-Robin Stories: One member writes the opening paragraph, then passes it to the next person to continue

These projects create tangible results the group can be proud of—and potentially publish.

9. Skill-Building Sessions

Target specific craft elements that challenge your members:

Writing natural, compelling dialogue
Crafting openings that hook readers immediately
Editing and revision techniques
Show versus tell
Pacing and structure

Use writing craft books, online resources, or invite a writing instructor to guide the session. Focused skill-building creates measurable improvement.

10. Fun and Interactive Activities

Not every meeting needs to be serious. Inject playfulness into your group:

Storytelling Games: Use random prompts or words to create a story collaboratively in real-time
Writing Roulette: Each member writes a paragraph, then passes their paper to the next person to continue—chaos and creativity ensue
Genre Swap: Rewrite a scene from your current project in a completely different genre (turn a thriller into a comedy, or literary fiction into sci-fi)

Laughter and play unlock creativity in unexpected ways.

11. Unconventional Inspiration Exercises

Draw writing prompts from unexpected sources:

Craft a story based on overheard conversations, mysterious radio transmissions, or strange signals
Use historical photographs or news headlines as story seeds
Write from the perspective of an inanimate object or an unusual narrator

Unusual starting points lead to original stories.

12. Psychological Exploration for Character Development

Deep, believable characters drive memorable fiction. Create exercises that explore psychology:

Write a scene from the perspective of a character with a specific psychological trait, fear, or condition
Explore how a character’s past trauma influences their present decisions and relationships
Develop detailed backstories that never appear on the page but inform every action

Understanding the human mind—its quirks, defenses, and desires—makes characters leap off the page.

Final Thoughts

A writers’ group should be more than a meeting—it should be a space where creativity flourishes, skills sharpen, and writers find the support they need to keep going. By incorporating a variety of activities, you can keep your group fresh, engaged, and continuously growing.I hope this list proves useful to writers’ groups everywhere. After all, when we lift each other up, we elevate the entire craft.What activities have worked well for your writers’ group? I’d love to hear your ideas.

Happy writing!

Here are a few of my projects…

Ellie Morrow: A Tale of Grief and Magic

Ellie Morrow has spent six years in the foster care system learning one lesson above all others: she breaks things.

Televisions implode when she’s angry. Pipes rupture when she dreams. Crows gather wherever she goes—silent, watchful—as though waiting for a signal only they can hear. And deep behind her sternum, something that is not quite a heartbeat pulses with a power she never asked for: a residual fire left over from the night a mysterious golden light filled her parents’ car on Route 9, killed everyone inside except her, and left a seven-year-old child without a scratch or an explanation.

“You are not broken, Ellie. You are not dangerous. And you are not disposable.”

But the foster care system disagrees. And so, when an estranged grandmother named Agatha Morrow arrives to claim her—a woman who chose thirty years of silence over the burden of explanation—Ellie is pulled from the only world she has ever known into something older and stranger: the breathing, sentient world of the Morrow women. A bloodline of immense power stretching back centuries. A house on a nameless mountain, built above a nexus of forces older than language. A legacy of magic and grief, of doors that should not be opened and things that sleep beneath foundations, of wards that answer to family and a home that has been waiting for the right Morrow to return.But Ellie is not merely inheriting power. She is awakening something. The blood moon is coming, and whatever has been dreaming in the deep places beneath the Morrow house—vast, impossibly old, and stirring for the first time in generations—has begun to rise, drawn upward by a girl whose emotions can crack buildings and whose light can fill a room with the color of old gold.

Part coming-of-age story, part Gothic supernatural mystery, and part meditation on grief, survival, and the terrible weight of belonging to something larger than yourself, the Girl Who . . . series asks one question and dares its heroine to answer it:

Get your copy here…

Plotter + Pantser = Planster: The Best of Both Worlds

What happens when you stop choosing sides in the great writing debate and embrace the chaos and the structure? You get what I like to call a Planster — and it just might be the most productive approach to writing you’ve never tried.

The Pantser Days

When I first started writing, I was a pure stream-of-consciousness writer — much like Stephen King, who famously describes his process as uncovering a fossil, brushing away the dirt one sentence at a time. I’d sit down, let the words pour out, and trust the story to find its own shape. There was a raw, electric energy to writing that way. The surprises my characters threw at me were my surprises too.But here’s the thing about pantsing: for every story that found its way to a satisfying ending, there were others that wandered into dead ends, spiraled into subplots that led nowhere, or simply ran out of steam halfway through. I had hard drives full of half-finished manuscripts collecting digital dust — stories with heart but no spine.

The Shift to Plotting

Eventually, I began studying story structure — the beats, the arcs, the underlying architecture that makes a narrative work. I dove into frameworks like the three-act structure, Save the Cat, and the Hero’s Journey. I learned about inciting incidents, midpoint reversals, dark nights of the soul, and satisfying climaxes.And suddenly, I understood why some of my old stories had stalled. They had voice. They had characters I loved. But they were missing the bones that hold a story upright.So I became a plotter. I outlined. I structured. I mapped every scene before writing it.And something was lost.The outlines were solid, sure — but sitting down to write a scene I’d already planned in detail felt like retracing someone else’s steps. The spontaneity, the discovery, the magic of pantsing had dried up.

The Planster Revelation

Then a thought hit me: What if you plot the structure but pants the beats?What if, instead of choosing one camp or the other, you used story structure as a roadmap — just the major landmarks, the critical turns — and then let your pantser brain run wild between them?That’s the Planster method in a nutshell:

Create a beat sheet. Identify the key structural moments your story needs — the hook, the inciting incident, the first plot point, the midpoint, the crisis, the climax, the resolution.
Know your destination for each beat. Understand what needs to happen at each structural turn and why it matters.
Pants everything in between. Let the characters breathe. Let the scenes surprise you. Let the dialogue flow the way it wants to. Trust your creative instincts to fill the space between the signposts.

You get the reliability of structure with the energy of discovery. The bones are there, but the flesh is alive.

The Proof Is in the Publishing

I decided to put this method to the test — not with a brand-new idea, but with those old stories buried on dusty hard drives from my pantsing days. Stories that had voice, had spark, but had never found their shape.I pulled three of them out, built beat sheets around their cores, and then pantsed my way through the beats.The results? Three completed novels in a fraction of the time it would have taken me using either method alone:

📖 Written in Skin — published on Amazon
📖 Nothing But Time — published on Amazon
📖 The Girl Who Broke Everything — coming soon

Three abandoned stories. Three finished books. That’s not a fluke — that’s a process that works.

Why the Planster Method Works

Structure prevents you from getting lost. You always know where you’re headed next.
Pantsing keeps the writing alive. You’re still discovering the story as you write it — just within guardrails.
It’s faster. You spend less time staring at a blank page and less time rewriting entire drafts that went off the rails.
It resurrects old work. Got abandoned manuscripts? They might just need a skeleton to stand on.

Are You a Planster?

If you’ve ever felt torn between the freedom of pantsing and the security of plotting, give yourself permission to be both. Grab a beat sheet template, sketch out your structural landmarks, and then let yourself fly between them.You might be surprised how many stories you’ve already started that are just waiting for the right structure to finally be told.

Have you tried the Planster method? Got old manuscripts collecting dust? I’d love to hear about your experience — drop a comment below or find my published works, Written in Skin and Nothing But Time, on Amazon. And keep an eye out for The Girl Who Broke Everything, coming soon.

A Tiny, Totally Non-Desperate Plea From Your Friendly Neighborhood Author

If you enjoyed this post — or even if you just tolerated it with mild amusement — I have a few small, completely reasonable requests:1. Share this post. Hit that share button like it owes you money. Text it to a friend. Email it to your mom. Print it out and leave it on a stranger’s windshield. I don’t judge distribution methods.2. Spread the word. Tell people about this blog. Whisper it in crowded elevators. Mention it casually at dinner parties. Skywriting is also acceptable.3. Buy a book. Look, I’m not starving. Let’s not be dramatic. But I am a coffee-dependent creature with a very real and very expensive caffeine habit, and those lattes aren’t going to fund themselves. Every book purchase keeps a moderately-fed author adequately caffeinated and typing away at the next thing you’ll (hopefully) enjoy.So if you’re feeling generous, kind, or just impulsive enough to click “Add to Cart” — I salute you, you beautiful human.☕ Keep the coffee flowing. Keep the words coming.

The Uncomfortable Truth About Writing Contests: Where’s the Feedback?

Let us speak of something that has been troubling me, and likely many of you, about the writing contest industry. It is a thing that hums beneath the surface of our submissions like a second heartbeat we have learned to ignore.

The Business Behind the “Opportunity”

Here is the hard truth, plain as the words that appear unbidden on a blank page at three in the morning: writing contests are a money-making business. There is nothing altruistic about the companies that hold them. They rely on your ego, your dreams, and your hope to willingly surrender that entry fee for a chance at recognition. The fee slips from your fingers like sand, like memory, like the last line of a poem you swore you would remember. Sound familiar? It should. This strategy is not new. The lottery counts on your optimism (and perhaps your misunderstanding of probability) to keep buying tickets. Vegas has built an empire on this exact psychology for generations. Writing contests? They are playing the same ancient game, only dressed in literary clothing, their true nature hidden behind promises that shimmer and shift like heat rising from summer pavement.

My Real Frustration: The Silence

What bothers me most is not the business model itself; everyone needs to make money. It is the complete lack of engagement with the work we submit. Our stories vanish into the void, swallowed whole, and we are left listening for an echo that never returns. Is it too much to ask for some modicum of evidence that someone actually read our stories? Even the smallest bit of feedback would transform the experience:

“Your opening didn’t hook me.”
“Did you read the prompt?”
“Strong voice, but the pacing faltered.”

These words, however brief, would be enough. They would prove that our stories had weight, that they existed somewhere beyond the submission portal, that they touched, however briefly, another human mind. With platforms like Reedsy, I understand that a five-dollar entry fee is not breaking the bank. But still, is it really too much to ask for something in return beyond silence and a form rejection? The silence is its own kind of haunting. It lingers in the inbox, in the space between refreshing the page and accepting, once again, that no reply will come.

The Bottom Line

We are paying for a service. Should that service not include at least a sentence of human acknowledgment? A single line to prove that our words, however flawed, were witnessed? Tell me your thoughts in the comments below. Am I asking for too much, or is it time contests stepped up and broke their long, strange silence?