Josie Lynn Books: Imagine the Possibilities

Author: Josie Lynn

Use (or Choose) Your Words (Wisely)

“Sticks and stones will break my bones, but words will never harm me.”

I’ll admit it. I am (on occasion) a public eavesdropper, but only because people say the most interesting things in public. For instance, I was in the parking lot of an organic market not too long ago and a family (consisting of a mother, a father, and a pre-teen son) was getting in the car next to mine. The son was not in a happy mood.

“Why are you mad with Daddy?” the mother asked, and then instructed him, “Use your words.”

The son proceeded to not use words, his or otherwise, but to sulk as he climbed into the backseat of the crossover with folded arms.

I laughed inwardly, mainly because I was surprised to hear that people really used words like “use your words.”

Another time, I was innocently eating breakfast at a hotel near a popular amusement park, when a family of four was seated at the table next to mine. The two young boys were having a dispute, and to settle it, the father parroted the adage about sticks and stones breaking bones, but words never hurting you, to which the older son replied, “But they do hurt. They always hurt.”

Again I chuckled, this time because the little dude was merely confirming the belief I’ve always held: words can be dangerous things.

People can make cutting remarks that go on to have long and productive lives, remarks that go so far as to find a home inside your brain, and turn up again and again like that proverbial bad penny. If someone struck you, they might leave a sore spot or a bruise, but those things heal, those things fade with time. You might at some later date wish to revisit your injury, only to discover it has completely disappeared.

But words are different; words cut deep.

That’s why it’s a good idea to be like Horton and only say what you mean and mean what you say. Because once the words are out, you won’t be able take them back. You can’t. You can say you’re sorry. You can say you didn’t mean it. But if those are just lame, ineffectual words compared to the mean, harmful, pointed words you’re trying to take back.

Those words that can’t be “un-heard.”

It reminds me of the fable about gossip, often used to illustrate how once words are spoken, they become feathers in the wind; difficult to control, impossible to collect once unleashed.

Like that vintage shampoo commercial (and they told two friends, and so on, and so on) suggests, words have a way of getting out at an exponential rate, which is good for advertising your new restaurant, but not so good if we’re talking about your embarrassing, dirty laundry.

Funnily enough, I have written a book that addresses this very topic. Imagine that! It’s called I’m the Greatest Star, and tells the story of a sixth-grader named Star who, among other things, finds herself face-to-face with the verbally-abusive class bully.

I’m the Greatest Star is published by Stepping Stones for Kids, an Imprint of FootePrint Press and will be available for purchase next month, April 2018, as a paperback or eBook. Visit my website josielynnbooks.com for more details.

March 22, 2018
My Favorite Movies…about writers

Vintage writer’s desktop with typewriter and flying sheets, creativity and inspiration concept

So, my literary kitty, Lily, already blogged about her love of movies, just one of the many things we have in common.

Today, I thought I’d share a list of my favorite movies about writers. There’s no shortage of movies about writers, probably because movies are written by writers and we tend to think that we are a fascinating bunch whose lives must be chronicled.

So, without further ado…

1. To Walk Invisible

The remarkable story of the Brontë sisters’ path to publishing. Take courage, indie authors.

2. Romancing the Stone

This movie was a childhood favorite and was also on Lily’s list. Hopeful romantic, romance novelist, Joan Wilder is thrust into a scenario that may well be taken from the pages of one of her novels…it’s art imitating life imitating art…who says movies about writers must be boring?

3. Saving Mr. Banks

I love this movie—even though ironically, I’ve never been a Mary Poppins fan (sorry Mrs. Travers!)—because it has one of my favorite lines explaining what we as writers do. Tom Hanks, as Walt Disney says: “George Banks and all he stands for will be saved. Maybe not in life, but in imagination. Because that’s what we storytellers do. We restore order with imagination. We instill hope again and again and again.” Word!

4. Miss Potter

This biopic about Beatrix Potter is inspiration for writers to believe in their work. Go against the establishment, self-publish (sort of), and draw amazing pictures of impossibly cute woodland animals with adorable names like Flopsy, Mopsy, and Cotton-tail.

5. Jane Austen Regrets

I think this choice is fairly self-explanatory, if you’ve read any of my previous posts. If not, let’s just say, I’m fairly obsessed with Jane Austen.

6. You’ve Got Mail

I will be blogging about this more in the future (as in, somewhere down the road, not in the far off, dystopian sense of the word). I love this movie so much that it deserves its own post. It’s about writers, books, children’s books, and bookstores…and bookstore owners. And it has Tom Hanks and Meg Ryan who are my favorite Rom-Com duo, possibly after Doris Day and, say…anyone.

7. Throw Momma from the Train

I had to re-visit this movie. It’s the one that got everything started for me. And it’s the second movie on this list that has Danny DeVito in its cast.

8. Breakfast at Tiffany’s

I’ll admit that this movie has some glaring flaws and missteps that I am willing to forgive (for instances, the whole Mickey Rooney character). But despite its flaws, I fell in love with this movie. The writer in this one is George Peppard, who plays Holly’s ultimate love interest, Paul Varjak (“That’s V-A-R-J-A-K.”)

9. Genius

A fascinating movie about the creative process that gives us a peek into what that looks like for the editor. It chronicles the relationship between writer, Thomas Wolfe and editor, Maxwell Perkins, two very different men, one with a genius for writing, another with a genius for friendship.

10. Finding Neverland

I like this beautifully filmed movie for its dreamy quality. It’s the story of how J.M. Barrie befriends a family of young boys who inspires him to write Peter Pan, and who just so happens to be related to Daphne du Maurier, author of a little book called Rebecca, among other things.

September 3, 2017
Review of The Scarlet Pimpernel

I was first exposed to The Scarlet Pimpernel by my ninth grade English teacher whose approach to teaching ninth grade English seems to have been getting literature down the throats of teenagers by any means necessary. More often than not, this meant showing us the movie version of novels rather than actually requiring us to read them. One spring day, we watched the 1982 version of The Scarlet Pimpernel with Anthony Andrews and Jane Seymour. I was smitten.

Shortly thereafter, I found a used copy for sell at my local public library and for just $0.25 the world of Sir Percy Blakeney and Marguerite Blakeney was mine! I devoured it. Twice smitten.

The Scarlet Pimpernel is a cat and mouse tale of an English nobleman who is hell-bent on saving his French counterparts from the bloody blade of the guillotine during the French Revolution. He has the annoying habit of leaving the symbol of a red flower (a scarlet pimpernel) behind as a calling card and this has made everyone curious about his identity. The English have put him on a pedestal; the French have put a price on his head.

The book is filled with adventure, near-misses, secret identities, lies, espionage, shocking revelations, an arch-nemesis, and things that could/would never happen in real life, forcing you to suspend disbelief (just a tad). But that’s why we read fiction, isn’t it? I know there are a myriad of other reasons we read fiction, but sometimes it does come down to escapism, pure and simple.

However, despite all of the high drama, danger and excitement, there is a part of me that sees The Scarlet Pimpernel simply as a love story. Not as a simple love story; maybe, and perhaps more accurately, a love triangle along the lines of the Clark Kent-Lois Lane-Superman love triangle.

Marguerite is married to Sir Percy, but she is in love with the idea of another whose initials also are S.P. (hum…) Sir Percy seemed like a decent guy when she agreed to marry him but alas, now he seems doltish, and what’s even worse, he seems quite indifferent to her. Sir Percy and Marguerite’s marriage is in crisis. True, it’s not as big a crisis as the French Revolution, but Baroness Orczy has skillfully juxtaposed one against the other. As the drama of the revolution plays out in the background and the world (well, France) falls apart, we can quietly explore the anatomy of a failing marriage (and possibly contemplate such questions as: How well can you really know the person closest to you? Do you only know what he/she chooses to reveal to you? Could you forgive the ultimate betrayal? Did those glasses really fool Lois Lane? Really?!)

In the end, The Scarlet Pimpernel is a sweet and tender tale that proves you can never hide your true essence from the one who loves you best.

Plus, it’s about a hero. We can never have too many heroes. The Scarlet Pimpernel is one for the ages.

December 22, 2016
Whatchamacallit…Part One

Meerkat Misidentified

I’m somewhat ashamed to admit that the first time I ever saw a meerkat was in The Lion King. Shocking…but true.

What’s this called?

In fact, the first time I saw The Lion King I had no idea what Timon was. Embarrassingly enough, I thought he was a poorly executed rat, but then someone kindly explained to me that he was a meerkat. And at first, I thought they were saying he was just a cat, or simply a cat, but then they patiently explained that there is an entire species of animals called meerkats that are not related to cats…or rats, but to mongooses, which I was familiar with because of Rikki-Tikki-Tavi. So having that all cleared up, I still didn’t exactly appreciate meerkats because the cartoon version still resembled a rat that walked around on its hind legs (as cartoon mammals are prone to do regardless of how they get around in real life, e.g., Mickey, Minnie, Pluto, Bugs, and Remy from Ratatouille, to name but a few), and because the name still sounded to me like someone was trying to disparage my beloved cats, the way someone might dismiss another’s suitability, saying, “He’s a mere child…”

Then I saw a nature show on PBS about meerkats and I realized that they are much cuter and much more charming in the flesh. Unfortunately, this program was about a family of these endearing little critters who were on a collision course with destiny, in the form of (1). a famine (gasp), (2). the debilitating effects of inbreeding (wait…what?), (3). lions (boo), and (4). jackals (hiss). I cried…and wondered how it was that people who make these nature documentaries can sit there filming while living creatures are being brutalized right in front of them…and now, with the advent of camera phones, it all begins to make sense…

Getting Closer to the Point

But I’m not here to talk about what an adorable little, upright, ground-dwelling animal is called. I’m here to talk about what a group of adorable little, upright, ground-dwelling animals is called.

And that leads me to the real, actual purpose of today’s post. Do you ever wonder about the specific name for a certain animal group?

Two common, slightly generic group designations are herd or flock, as in a herd of cattle, giraffes, zebras, antelopes, elephants, etc… or a flock of sheep, goats, ducks (birds, in general), camels, etc. It’s also interesting to note that these words also refer to the action of gathering animals or people together (as in Corgis were bred to herd cattle) or to the action of animals or people moving together as a group (as in They flocked to the Apple Store to buy the latest iPhone).

A few more common group designations are school, pride, and pod. Who hasn’t heard of a school of fish or a pride of lions? And the term pod can refer to groups of sea mammals, like seals, walruses, and whales, and even to sea-faring birds, like pelicans.

But some group designations are slightly more obscure. Which brings me back to the aforementioned meerkats. A recent trip to the zoo revealed that a group of meerkats is called a mob. Who knew? Not to be mistaken for a flash mob, but rather a mere mob (so don’t go envisioning a planned spontaneous assemblage of meerkats getting down to Rachel Platten’s Stand by You. That would be cute…but it’s not going to happen).

Some group designations are fun and alliterative like a gaggle of geese, the aforementioned mob of meerkats, or the aptly named pandemonium of parrots. And if you’ve ever seen a flock of wild parrots, then you know exactly what I mean! Other group designations conjure up pretty amazing mental images: an army of frogs, a flutter of butterflies, a gang of elks (“…if they say blades, I say blades. If they say guns, I say guns…”). Or how about this one that we may have learned from Sting’s All This Time, which memorably mentions a murder of crows, leading me to wonder, who comes up with these words?!

Ah…words. Gotta love ’em…or at any rate, use ’em!

Happy writing!

October 7, 2016
Review of Little Women

If anyone asked my nine-year-old self what was my favorite book, they would have gotten the unequivocal and quite enthusiastic answer, “Little Women by Louisa May Alcott…of course!”

I found in the March sisters a group of girls that I was destined to be friends with. The moment I first glimpsed them grumbling in their living room about the dreadfulness of being poor, I thought, Aha! Kindred spirits.

Little Women is a coming of age saga following the lives of the aforementioned March sisters (Meg, Jo, Beth, and Amy-four girls who range in age from sixteen to twelve at the novel’s beginning) and the boy next door, Theodore (Laurie) Lawrence, who becomes best friends with the second oldest sister, the tomboyish Jo.

The Marches live at Orchard House, and when the novel opens, we see that they are a family of reduced circumstances (hence, the grumbling in the opening scene). Their beloved father is away fighting in the Civil War, leaving the girls in the watchful care of their mother, whom they lovingly call Marmee. Marmee serves as the guiding force/conscience of the novel as she endeavors to shape and mold the character of her “little women.”

Over the years, we follow the March sisters’ adventures, antics, mishaps, learn about their hopes and dreams (their castles in the air), share their disappointments and losses—share their lives—and we feel as if we are experiencing it all first-hand, along with them. At least I know I did.

Some people say Little Women is saccharine, preachy, and/or old-fashioned. I couldn’t disagree more. It is a story about real people. They just happen to belong to a highly functional, loving family living in the late 1800s (if that is your idea of artificial sweetness, you have my pity). These girls don’t have it easy. The March girls work at thankless jobs for pitiful wages. They brave the freezing weather in threadbare coats with hot potatoes in their pockets to warm their icy fingers. They wear re-worked, shabby (last season’s) dresses to balls while other girls have the latest fashions from Paris. They make hard, brave choices, like choosing to marry for love when the expedient thing would have been to marry for money.

I love(d) Little Women the same way you might love a real live, complicated person: despite what I consider glaring faults, despite being—on occasion—mystified by its choices, and despite the fact that it hurt and disappointed me.

Here’s the thing: Little Women did not end the way I wanted it to. I’m not going to be a spoiler here, but I will say that Little Women is no fairy tale. The nine-year-old that I was loved a fairy tale, and this book didn’t have the happily ever after she was yearning for. At least, not in the traditional sense. More in the “and they made the best of things” sense. But, after all, in reality, that’s pretty much the way life turns out. It turns out the way it does and then you make the most of it. That was a hard lesson for me to learn as an eager, bookish kid pouring over her favorite novel, but it turned out to be a valuable one, one that was impressed upon me over the many years, re-reads, and hours spent pondering and wondering and finally coming to terms/peace with the way Louisa May Alcott chose to tell her story.

September 8, 2016
Review of Best Friends for Frances

My little sister purchased the print and audio versions of this book at the book fair when we were little kids. We read and listened to it incessantly (well, we stopped to eat, sleep, and go to school), but most of our other waking hours for about a week or so were consumed with Best Friends for Frances by Russell Hoban (writer) and Lillian Hoban (illustrator).

Frances and Albert are best friends. They are also badgers who do not wear clothes, but that is completely irrelevant and only an issue if you are reading the book. Personally, as a child, I preferred listening to the book because of the cute, clever, and catchy songs (although, the illustrations are perfectly delightful, too).

Albert proves to be a bad best friend (a bbf, which is quite different than a bff) because he chooses to play baseball with the boys and leaves bf Frances (a girl) out in the cold. Frances is not a happy badger.

She decides to teach Albert a lesson by fixing a picnic that includes all of his favorite, mouth-watering treats and inviting her little sister, Gloria (previously thought to be a too-little-to-play-with pest) to go on a best-friends-no-boy-outing.

Frances’s ploy works. Albert comes crawling back to her with his tail (yes, badgers do have tails) between his legs. And Frances learns that little sister Gloria is not a pest, but can also be a friend.

And we all learn valuable lessons about being a true friend, being more inclusive, and learning to like your younger siblings (they have a lot to offer…my younger sister shared her book with me!) In other words, or as Frances puts it, we’re not just friends ‘when it’s goodies in the hamper time.’

September 1, 2016
A Horse is a Horse (of course, of course)
As a writer, I love a good turn of phrase. Or as Jason Mraz says (sings), “I’m all about them words.” I am too. All about them. Words.

As a person, I love horses. I’ve loved them since my big sister brought home the Billy and Blaze books from the school library when she was in first grade. I’ve never ridden a horse. I’ve never actually spent much time around them. In fact, the one time I had the opportunity, I chickened out because the horse was big and had teeth and I was only five. I stood by the sidelines and watched my dad take a turn around the corral. I wish I had been braver, but if wishes were horses…

I find it curious that there are so many figures of speech, proverbs, similes, metaphors, etc. that involve horses, but hold your horses, I’ll get to that in a minute.

Wild horses won’t drag it from me

I remember reading this phrase in Anne of Green Gables and falling in love with it. It’s dramatic, noble and at the same time, full of romanticism, this idea that you could keep a confidence despite the temptation to blab.

Wild horses make me think of the untamed West and the line from Oklahoma that says about cowboys, “they ride for days on end with just a pony for a friend…” I love the idea of wild horses as found in books like Misty of Chincoteague and the My Friend Flicka books—wild, beautiful and free.

Of course, when I think of wild horses in connection with dragging, I must admit that the idea of drawing and quartering tends to pop into my mind, but I quickly dismiss it because, well, that whole notion is just gruesome. Still, the idea of someone having the mental stamina, courage, bravery, and strength of character to not give up a confidence despite the threat of bodily harm is inspiring.

If wishes were horses beggars would ride

This phrase makes me think of what I like to think were simpler, more innocent times. I supposed there’s no way of knowing whether or not bygone times really were simpler, no real way to compare without access to a time machine…and time machines only exist in books and movies, right? Right? But it makes me feel good to think times were simpler and better when people rode horses.

I like the idea that a mode of transportation could be loyal to you. Cars certainly are not loyal; they break down and give out at the most inopportune moments—on freeways, for example—leaving you stranded and having to call a tow truck and pay a mechanic potentially terrifying amounts of money to get them fixed. While it is true that horses had the tendency to die (when they got old or when they were shot because they broke their leg), at least, in books and movies, they did so heroically, after fighting the odds.

Another reason I like this expression so much is it takes me back to the magic of childhood when you believed in the possibility of being granted wishes…like in the case of Aladdin or even in the Biblical tale of King Solomon, who was wise enough to ask for more wisdom which enabled him to…well, let’s just say it was a very clever way of wishing for more wishes.

More horsin’ around

Here are a few more expressions and/or figures of speech featuring horses:
- A horse of a different color – made famous by The Wizard of Oz
- Don’t look a gift horse in the mouth – (unless you happen to live in Troy and receive a mysterious giant one!)
- All the king’s horses and all the king’s men – from Humpty Dumpty fame
- You can lead a horse to water, but you can’t make him drink
- Get off your high horse
- Eat like a horse
- Beat a dead horse
Now I’m going to change horses midstream and list some of my favorite childhood books about horses. Feel free to chime in with your favorites. I’m open to suggestions and I’m not above reading children’s literature as an adult.
1. My Friend Flicka
2. Thunderhead
3. Green Grass of Wyoming
4. The Black Stallion
5. Black Beauty
6. Misty of Chincoteague
7. Billy and Blaze
8. The Absolutely Perfect Horse
9. The Little House Books
10. (YOUR CHOICE)
July 21, 2016
Top 5 Botched Proposals
You don’t know love when you see it. You’ve tricked something out with your imagination that you think love, and you expect the real thing to look like that.

Anne of the Island

I have a book (Maxwell Parker, Love Doctor) that is coming out this month. How’s that for a plug?

It’s the second book in the Maxwell Parker Chronicles, a series for young readers starring my irrepressible heroine, Maxwell Parker, who sees herself as an amateur detective. However, in the second installment, she’s not sniffing out crime, she’s sniffing out love. It’s a natural progression.

The course of true love never did run smooth. . .

Love always seems to start off as a bit of a mystery for many of our favorite couples in literature. We seem to love the intrigue. Perhaps it gives us hope to see that so many of the great love stories didn’t start off so great after all. There were false starts, foul-ups, misunderstandings…and poorly executed proposals, yet they always (almost always) end up in a happy ever after. On the way there, we need the conflict and the tension.

Today, I thought I’d focus on how so many of my favorite period pieces involve love gone wrong, proposals gone south, and hapless gentlemen in cravats mistakenly thinking—assuming—that their offer of marriage will be accepted simply because it was offered (and we all know what happens when you assume). While many women back in the day were grateful for and eagerly accepted any offer that came along (usually the first…Charlotte Lucas comes to mind), some of our favorite ladies in literature decided to make their men grovel just a bit longer and ultimately come back with an offer that was a bit more earnest, a tad less entitled, with all of the arrogant assumptions pitched out of the window.

In honor of my upcoming love-themed book, I’ve composed a list of a few of my favorite botched proposals and awkward refusals from a few of my favorite movies:
1. North and South
Margaret Hale’s first shot at love comes in the form of Henry Lennox, a well-connected lawyer. He lazily assumes that she is fishing for a proposal of marriage, because she mentions the word wedding in his presence. He is overly confident that she, the daughter of a poor parson, will jump at the chance to be his wife. Margaret is fiercely independent and has to set him straight and send him packing.

Next she attracts the attention of the wealthy mill owner, John Thornton. He proposes to her, also confident that she will jump at the chance to improve her financial situation. She has to assure him that his ungentlemanly behavior has not impressed her. She also states that she has not yet learned how to graciously turn down proposals, and he quips back with, Oh… so I guess I’m not the first man whose heart you’ve had the privilege of breaking (or something to that effect). When it comes to biting sarcasm, John Thornton and Elizabeth Hale are on equal footing.

After Mr. Thornton, Mr. Bell, a friend of her father, admits that he’s interested in her as a wife/companion/nurse. As attractive as that particular offer may be, Margaret is able to graciously spurn his advances as well. She’s learning.

And finally, John Thornton gets it right. Margaret meets him halfway, and the movie ends the way we all knew it was destined to end the first time our two leads had their first encounter.
1. Pride and Prejudice
First, poor Elizabeth Bennet has to deal with the ridiculous Mr. Collins’ offer, which included some very flattering reasons he has decided to enter into matrimony (to set the right example and as a way to kiss up to his boss), a bribe (if you marry me, I won’t turn you and your mother and sisters out on your ears when your daddy dies and I inherit your estate), and a thinly veiled insult (I wanted to marry your prettier older sister but a little bird told me she’s already spoken for).

Then she has to face Mr. Darcy’s quite rude admission: I find you and your family disgustingly beneath me, yet I have been hypnotized by your eyes. I love you in spite of myself. Please, put me out of my misery. That Darcy sure did know how to sweet-talk a girl. He should have just carried a miniature painting of his estate in his coat pocket.

Being a self-respecting regency woman, Elizabeth had to turn this tempting offer down, and she did so in style. Darcy was chastened—to say the least—and later returns with a much more satisfying proposal, one that was worthy of the woman he was wooing.
1. Little Women
How could Teddy (Laurie) have been so blind? How did he not pick up on any of the many signals that Jo tried to send that she was not looking for a proposal? She never wanted to move him out of the friend category. Why did he think he could change her mind?

Here’s is a hint for wannabe suitors: When the girl says, “No, Teddy, please don’t,” now is not the time to stubbornly plow ahead. Now is the time to regroup and reassess the relationship.

Also, using the line “Everyone’s expecting it” generally never works because she will then counter it with the reasonable-sounding, “Then we’d be doing it for all the wrong reasons.” And there’s no way you can answer that.

You have to give Laurie an A for effort, though. His failed proposal and subsequent heartbreak is one of the most touching moments in all love stories.

On a side note, does anyone else love that Laurie grew up to be Batman? (Or am I confusing real-life with fiction again? Oh well, it happens).
1. Far From the Madding Crowd
Shepherd Gabriel Oak’s first clumsy attempt to court Bathsheba Everdene was something of a “Me, Tarzan…you, Jane,” caveman approach. Although, I have to say, I sort of melted at the sight of the baby lamb and when he said, “I love you far more than common!” I mean, come on…who says that?

Over time, he learns to refine his approach and Bathsheba learns to genuinely love him, and somehow I feel that their relationship, more than any other in literature, is one that is based on mutual affection and respect. (Never mind the fact that between Gabriel Oak’s first and final proposal, Bathsheba mischievously toys with the affections of a middle-aged bachelor gentleman farmer who lives nearby and drives him to the point of homicidal mania or that she succumbs to the advances of a gold-digging, pretty boy, love child of a noble and almost loses her fortune to him!) The salient point is that in the end, things worked out for Bathsheba and Gabriel.
1. Anne of Avonlea (Anne, the Sequel)
Like Laurie, Gilbert misread all of the signs and projected his feelings on to Anne. Sort of. The truth was, Anne did love Gilbert, but she wasn’t ready to admit it to herself just yet. His profession of love was premature, her protestation against love was as ridiculous as it was futile.

Anne goes on to attract the attention (in the movie…not the book) of a rich widower, Morgan Harris, who gives Anne the proposal of her dreams, forcing her to wake up and smell the wholesome sea air and realize that she’s meant to stay in Avonlea and live blithe-fully ever after with Gilbert.

Fortunately for them (and for us), Gilbert got what alluded Laurie: a second chance and, for him, the second time was the charm.

In the Anne books, Anne is subjected to a whole series of proposals gone wrong from all manner and form of suitor (suitable and otherwise), which leaves us amused and her traumatized and primed for Gilbert’s second, final, and ultimately successful attempt. And Anne learns something we all do well to remember:

“Perhaps, after all, romance did not come into one’s life with pomp and blare, like a gay knight riding down; perhaps it crept to one’s side like an old friend through quiet ways; perhaps it revealed itself in seeming prose, until some sudden shaft of illumination flung athwart its pages betrayed the rhythm and the music, perhaps . . . perhaps . . . love unfolded naturally out of a beautiful friendship, as a golden-hearted rose slipping from its green sheath.”

Lucy Maud Montgomery
July 15, 2016
Partial-Paleo Sweet Potato Pie

I’m posting this recipe for those of you who (like me) love sweet potato and pumpkin pie, but would like a tasty, semi-paleo, gluten-free, dairy-free alternative. I’ve been experimenting with different options, and this is the one I like best, so far.

The first time I tried it, I made it with a gluten-free pie crust mix, which was pretty good, but I decided to try out the Basic Nut Crust recipe from the Wheat Belly Cookbook by William Davis, M.D.

I added a smidgen of sugar to the crust because I wanted my crust to taste a bit more like a graham cracker crust. If you anticipate that being too sweet for your taste, add less sugar, or feel free to leave it out. I’m also including the option to top your pie with Whipped Coconut Cream, if you so desire. I tend to like my sweet potato/pumpkin pie unadorned, but Whipped Coconut Cream is delicious and ridiculously easy to make (instructions appear below).

Semi-Paleo Sweet Potato Pie

2 pounds cooked sweet potatoes* (about 2 to 3 medium)
2 tablespoons dairy-free butter substitute, melted
1/2 cup organic sugar
1/4 cup organic brown sugar
1/4 teaspoon salt
1 teaspoon ground cinnamon
3/4 teaspoon ground ginger
1/4 teaspoon ground cloves
1/2 teaspoon grated lemon zest
3 eggs
1 can of coconut milk (about 12 ounces)
One 9-inch Basic Nut Pie Crust
Whipped coconut cream

Basic Nut Crust (modified)

1 1/3 cups almond flour
2/3 cups golden flaxseeds
6 tablespoons dairy-free butter substitute, melted and cooled
3 teaspoons organic sugar (optional)

Directions for pie crust:

In a large bowl, stir together nuts, flaxseeds, and dairy-free butter substitute until well blended.
Press into a 9-inch pie plate (as you would a graham cracker crust).
Preheat the oven to 350° F. Cover the pie crust with foil. Bake for 15 minutes. Remove foil.

Turn oven up to 400° F.

Directions for sweet potato pie:

Start with cooked and cooled sweet potatoes. Scoop the flesh out and puree in a blender or food processor with the dairy-free butter substitute. Add the remaining ingredients and puree until well blended. Pour mixture into the pre-baked nut pie crust.

Continue baking in 400° F oven for 40-50 minutes or until knife inserted in the center comes out clean. Cool. Serve plain or garnished with whipped coconut cream.

Makes one 9-inch pie.

Instructions for whipped coconut cream:

Chill one can of full-fat coconut milk in the refrigerator for several hours. Take the can out of the refrigerator and open it. Scoop out the thick cream that has risen and solidified at the top of the can. Put it in a bowl and whip as you would whipped cream. Once it has thickened to the desired consistency add sugar to taste, and a teaspoon of vanilla and/or a dash of cinnamon. Enjoy!

*COOK’S NOTES: use your preferred method of baking the sweet potatoes (suggestions below).

Oven method: Preheat oven to 400° F. Pierce each sweet potato several times with a fork. Place on a baking sheet lined with foil. Bake until tender, about 45 minutes.

Microwave method: Pierce each sweet potato several times with a fork. Place in microwave and cook for 5-6 minutes, or until soft.

(This post has been revised)

January 6, 2016
Review of Harvey’s Hideout

I decided to dedicate this post to a review of an old childhood favorite, in honor of Throwback Thursday.

Harvey’s Hideout, written by Russel Hoban and illustrated by Lillian Hoban, is the first book I remember holding in my hand as a very small, pre-preschool-aged child.

It is the charming story of two muskrat siblings, Harvey and Mildred, who are having some “issues” getting along. Harvey is the “stupid, no-good” little brother who annoys his older sister Mildred, who in turn is “mean and rotten.” In truth (and as their muskrat father wisely points out) neither is really stupid, no-good, mean, or rotten. They just seem that way to each other. Ah…memories of childhood.

Not that my older sister was ever quite as mean to me as Mildred was nor was I ever quite as bratty or annoying as Harvey. Still, the colorful illustrations depicting the idyllic family life of a muskrat family charmed me and provided ample fodder for my imagination. I wanted a party dress like Mildred’s and fantasized that when I ran away from home, I’d carry my belonging in a bindle (bag on a stick) like Harvey.

I found this book several years ago at a second-hand book store and, reading it as an adult, I was happy to see that it hasn’t lost its charm. I still love the colorful illustrations which probably endeared muskrats to generations of readers, which was a feat in itself. I mean, I’ve seen muskrats in person, and they are not this adorable. But, I must say, this time around, I appreciated the book’s very realistic portrayal of sibling interactions.

Then there was the joy of finding all of the things that went over my head as a child (which were probably snuck in just to give parents a chuckle) for instance the part where the muskrat children list all the children in the neighborhood and the reasons they may or may not be suitable playmates…(they are not allowed to get mixed up with the weasels).

Hilarious.

Reading this as an adult reminded me what a gift siblings can be. At the end of the day, all you really have is each other and that’s a lot. What a nice lesson to find in a children’s book.

I wonder if this book is the real reason my sisters and I always got along so well.

December 3, 2015

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