When Dreams Come True

Oh, my the things that happen when I'm not watching. This evening, I was scrolling through old blog posts and came across this. What amazed me is how popular it was.  The books are already out, and there's ebooks available also.
Note: Emily and Alice are twins that were separated as newborns.

I dreamed I had a twin, Mommy.

Alice was just a little girl but she had always wished to have a sister
"just her size." Sometimes she even dreamed about it. Once her
dream was so vivid that Alice told her Mommy.
"I dreamed I had a twinnie, Mommy."
Alice didn't notice the uneasy look on her mother's face when she responded.
"Oh, was it a nice dream?"
"I'm not sure. In some ways I liked it."
"Why wouldn't you like to dream that, honey?"
Alice's blue eyes filled with tears.
"I wish I had a twin, Mommy. I REALLY do."
Margaret's face grew pale but she kept her voice even. "Why don't you tell me about your dream,sweetheart."

2 Dumped

www.prairieviewpress.com

Mother dies on the train, kids left at an overcrowded orphanage, how will they ever find a true Home at Last? But they did! Find out how with the included link for A Home at Last by Marilyn Friesen

The Big Boo-Boo

The Big Boo- Boo!
I wrote this article at home the other day with the intent of posting it while at the library. Problem is I forgot to reread it, and there is a glaring flaw. I’ll fix it now, but it’s pretty awkward having a mistake like that in an article about writing! 
Hint: I missed the author’s name. Did anyone catch it?
http://www.createspace.com/4837922

Dare to Dream

                Are dreams worth pursuing?  Can they be pursued? One of my favorite poems as a teenager had the line “Don’t be distracted by less worthy deeds.”

                Okay, maybe you’ve guessed by now that I love to write. Writing to me is like painting was to someone like Norman Rockwell. It gives the mundane, the obscure a new shot of life. Writing can and should give new insight and vitality to commonly held conceptions.

                And so I write. Problem is there is a whole tidal wave of other aspiring writers struggling to the top, seeking to be noticed. We have challenges that weren’t faced back in the 1950’s. When To Kill A Mocking Bird was written the editor ended up having more faith in ---Harper Lee’s book  than she had herself. Apparently in frustration she threw the manuscript out the open window, but the editor encouraged her to gather up those papers and try, try again.

Who helps us? Self-Publishing has gotten a bad rap from people, ya, like me, who read their manuscripts a ‘thousand’ times and become blind to the ‘million’ little typos that glare at them after the book is off the press. UHH! Who wants to read that? Not even me.

BUT. We put a tremendous amount of work into it. BUT we are sure are ideas are great: if the reader can see past those awful typos: if there was a way to struggle against the human tide of other writers who are also flooding the market. Ever feel that way? Unless you are smugly holding the key to success that I haven’t found yet, of course you do.

And so fellow writers what are we going to do?  I know for a fact I will continue to write because I love to, and those earlier disgraces haven’t thrown me into despair. Fact is I redid Mary’s Diary, Jesus through His Mother’s Eyes because I believed in it, and now the present copy is far better than the first.

I’m doing the same with Two Mothers and Twin Daughters.  I can’t believe how enriching an experience it is to rewrite a favorite story after the earlier (humiliating) publication several years ago.

Okay, I admit I’ll just a little old oyster polishing, polishing that pearl inside me, but maybe someday you and I can, like Anna Pavlova, the famous dancer, learn the true meaning of success. Do you know what she said? Here is my paraphrase:

Success is having people loving what you do.

Just so you don’t forget my name, I’ll sign it. : )

Marilyn Friesen

Mary's Memories of the First Christmas

29 Nissan

April 21

Dear Diary;

With tears in my eyes I must admit this has been a low time for me.

My feeling of dwelling in heavenly places has faded to a rather forlorn

memory, and I am not well! After scattering a few kernels of corn to

our flock of chickens, I crept behind the goat-shed to be sick. It didn't relieve the queasiness much.

Feeding the Little Folk

Listen, I won't even pretend to have a corner on the history of Jesus as a child. This is pure imagination.

The life of Jesus through His Mother's eyes,

Dear Diary,
  H'm. It's pretty quiet around here. I wonder what the boys are up to. I finished making the soup for dinner, checked to see if baby Lydia was still asleep then wandered outdoors. James was close by. He called to me and I duly admired what he was building in the sand pile with scraps of lumber from the carpenter's shop.
"Where's Yeshua, (Jesus), "I soon asked.
"He went to yonder woods to feed the little folk, " James solemnly replied as he stuck a row of sticks in the ground.What a perfect day to be out of doors. I walked eagerly down the path to 'yonder' woods. Since no one was around I