tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-83472432793182940192024-03-06T21:13:26.982-08:00Mary Alice Monroe Mary Alice Monroehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03022743509749320592noreply@blogger.comBlogger135125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8347243279318294019.post-69965081076432236832016-10-11T10:05:00.000-07:002016-10-11T10:05:49.860-07:00<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-align: center;">
I'm writing the conclusion of <i>The Beach House </i>series--<i>The Beach House, Beach House Memories</i>, <i>Swimming Lessons. </i> I find myself filled with all the strong feelings I have for the characters: Lovie, Cara, Brett, Toy, Little Lovie. And the sweet Primrose Cottage that, though a house, became a character in the series. I've just returned home from fleeing Hurricane Matthew and outside my window the sounds of chain saws fill the air. I thought how very much like the opening of <i>Beach House Memories</i> it all is. What goes around comes around. I'm sharing with you the opening of <i>Beach House Memories</i> to share with you life post hurricane--and bring to mind the characters we will revisit this June!</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglPupWTKIZauEpBrVPR7eoAydJykj49GYEyAYnzj1zi6RBQ_FBIxqEvHwq0TDsyW9103TdgkdZ6Z3k5QlMWWNatxXtnGFUgeufFXw4EcNhol6edTq6jhGU2JD5Ab7AHtK-uo0a4Nv3vEk/s1600/BEACH+HOUSE+MEMORIES+HARDCOVER.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglPupWTKIZauEpBrVPR7eoAydJykj49GYEyAYnzj1zi6RBQ_FBIxqEvHwq0TDsyW9103TdgkdZ6Z3k5QlMWWNatxXtnGFUgeufFXw4EcNhol6edTq6jhGU2JD5Ab7AHtK-uo0a4Nv3vEk/s320/BEACH+HOUSE+MEMORIES+HARDCOVER.jpg" width="211" /></a></div>
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<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-align: center;">
BEACH
HOUSE MEMORIES by Mary Alice Monroe</div>
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Published
2012 Gallery Books</div>
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<br /></div>
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Chapter
One</div>
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Lovie Rutledge
believed memories were like the tides. Sometimes they rushed in with a pounding
roar to topple you over. At other times
they gently washed over you, lulling you to complacency then tugging you back,
back to halcyon days that, with the passing of years, seemed even sweeter. </div>
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She seemed to
spend more time with her memories of late, especially on evenings such as this
when the sun was a red orb that lazily descended over the <st1:place w:st="on">Intracoastal
Waterway</st1:place> and the jeweled tones of the sky deepened. From the trees the pensive cries of birds
called all to home. Lovie sat on the
windward porch, still and silent, attuned to the moody hour. Sunset was her favorite time of the day, an
introspective hour when the sky brought down the curtain on what she knew were
her final days.</div>
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Lovie leaned her
snowy white head against her chair, gave a slight push with her foot, and
sighed as she rocked back and forth in a rhythmic motion, like the waves
slapping against the shore. A small
smile eased across her face.</div>
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Peace, at last,
she thought.</div>
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The wailing winds
of the hurricane that had blown across her small island a week earlier had left
in its wake the incessant guttural roar of chain saws. The Isle of Palms had been pummeled, as had
most of the <st1:state w:st="on">South Carolina</st1:state>
coast. It would take weeks to clean up. As though in apology, Mother Nature graced the
island with crisp, after-storm breezes that spurred the populace to a frenzy of
repairs. Lovie was glad for the activity--the bellowing of voices, honking of horns,
laughter of children, whoops from the beach, high pitched calls of greeting as
families returned home from evacuation.
She heard in the noise the shared exuberance of hope. </div>
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And yet, Lovie longed
for the hush and lull of pace that came at the day’s end. </div>
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Stop your
complaining, old woman, she admonished.
You should be grateful that you wake up at all! Bird call or hammering on wood--whichever! The
sounds of life around her were welcome--especially now as death hovered like a
thief, waiting for its opportunity to snatch her last breath away.</div>
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Lovie sunk deeper
into the cushion and let her tired body ease as she stared out again at a riot
of flowers, and beyond, the sea. The <st1:place w:st="on">Atlantic Ocean</st1:place> breathed like a serene beast snoring in
the distance. The gentle rolling water
cloaked all the secrets it held, while the earth revealed all. Ah, but she wasn’t fooled by her old
friend. </div>
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<i>I thought you were going to take my house
with this last storm--and me along with it, </i>she thought with a faint
chuckle. <i>Well, I thank you for leaving us
be. At least for a little while longer.</i> She sighed and kicked off again with her
foot. <i>I’ve known you too long and too well not to be wise to your mercurial
nature. You appear so gentle and
peaceful tonight. But Lord help the fool
who ignores you.</i></div>
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Lovie suddenly
coiled in a spasm of coughing that wracked her frame, so thin now she could be
mistaken for a child. When at last the
fit subsided, she bent forward, clasping the arms of the chair, gasping for air.</div>
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“Mama! Are you okay?”</div>
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Lovie turned her
head to see Cara’s worried face inches from her own. She felt Cara’s larger
hand tighten over hers in a reassuring squeeze.
Dear, sweet, daughter, she thought as her pale blue eyes found refuge in
Cara’s dark brown ones. There were crow’s
feet at the corners, adding maturity to the wide eyed worry. Cara had been dismayed at turning forty,
crying that her youth was over and how she was on the downhill slope. Lovie knew better. Cara was still so young! So strong and confident. Lovie felt the panic that always came with the
coughing spells loosen its grip. Gradually
her breath came more easily. </div>
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She nodded weakly.</div>
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Cara’s eyes
narrowed, quickly checking for signs that Lovie needed oxygen or a dose of pain
medication. “Mama, it’s getting
chilly. Let’s go inside.” </div>
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Lovie didn’t have
the breath to answer, but she weakly shook her head no.</div>
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Cara hesitated,
then with a tsk of mild frustration, she didn’t force the issue, as she might
have just months earlier. </div>
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Lovie leaned back
again in her chair. Staring at her from
the settee across the room was a large calico cat. The cat had mysteriously appeared after the
hurricane, lost and mewling piteously. Cara fed her daily, cleaned up after
her, and petted her long fur whenever she passed. Cara called the cat, “The Uninvited Guest,”
and pretended not to care one way or the other about her. But Lovie could tell she was secretly pleased
the cat had decided to stay. It was Cara’s
first pet. </div>
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Cara was rather like
that cat, Lovie thought with some amusement.
The previous May, Lovie had asked her only daughter to come home for a
visit. She hadn’t thought Cara would
come. They’d been estranged for some
twenty years and Cara was always too busy.
Lovie had prayed that she and her headstrong daughter could patch up
their differences before she died. How
did one reconcile after so long a time?
It was in faith that she’d written, and Cara had come. In a twist of
fate, Cara had been laid off from her high powered job at an advertising agency
in <st1:city w:st="on">Chicago</st1:city>. She’d
arrived at Lovie’s door at the onset of summer feeling lost and restless,
uncharacteristically adrift. She’d
stayed the summer on Isle of Palms, ostensibly to take care of her mother. And yet, over the past months Cara, like the lost
cat, had been cared for, stroked, needed.
The summer had made Cara wiser and more content-- not so quick to chase
the mouse. </div>
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And in the
process, she’d rediscovered her mother’s love. This had been the answer to
Lovie’s prayers.</div>
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It was autumn now,
however, and with the season’s end Lovie’s strength was ebbing with the
receding tide. She had terminal cancer
and both she and Cara knew that soon the Lord would call her home. </div>
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“Okay, Mama,” Cara
conceded, patting Lovie’s hand. “We’ll
sit out here a little longer. I know you hate to miss a sunset. Would you like
a cup of tea? I’ll make you one,” she
replied, not waiting for an answer.</div>
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Lovie didn’t want
tea just now, but Cara needed something to do.
Though they didn’t say the words often, Lovie knew that Cara expressed
her love with action. Cara rose effortlessly from the chair, a move Lovie could
hardly recall being able to make. </div>
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Cara was strikingly
good looking, tall and slender with glossy dark hair she usually wore pulled
back in a carefree ponytail. But tonight
was cooler and the humidity low so she let it fall unkempt to her
shoulders. It swayed in rhythm with the
few long strides it took her to cross the wooden porch.</div>
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Her gaze swept
across the porch of her beloved beach house that was showing signs of age. Time…
it passed so quickly! Where did all the
years go? How many summers had this dear
house survived? How many hurricanes? Two
white wooden rocking chairs sat side by side where mother and daughter sat most
nights to enjoy the lowcountry sunset. The
recent hurricane had destroyed her pergola, and the new screens Cara had just
installed hung in tattered shreds, waving uselessly in the offshore breezes. She
heard the teasing hum of a mosquito in her ear.
</div>
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Her little house
on <st1:street w:st="on">Ocean Boulevard</st1:street>
had always been a place of refuge for Lovie, a sanctuary through good times and
bad, ever since childhood. In the
twilight the quaint and tidy lines of her 1930s beach cottage appeared part of
the indigenous landscape beside the tall palms, the raucous wildflowers, clumps
of sea oats and wild grasses on the dunes.
This late in October, the sweetgrass was a breathtaking explosion of
cotton candy pink. From her seat on the porch she could see straight out to the
<st1:place w:st="on">Atlantic Ocean</st1:place> without the obstruction of one
of those enormous houses that bordered the island’s coastline. It was the same view she’d always had, all
these many years. When the wind gusted, it rippled across the tall, soft grass like
rosy waves and carried her back to happier days when the island was a remote
outpost.</div>
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Lovie’s parents
had given the modest, pre-war cottage to her when she’d married and she, in
turn, would leave it to her daughter. Her house on <st1:street w:st="on">Tradd Street</st1:street> in <st1:place w:st="on">Charleston</st1:place> with the heirloom furniture and
silver she had already handed down to her son, Palmer. Once upon a time she’d
loved that house with a grand passion, yet never as much as she’d loved
Primrose Cottage. She’d created
wonderful memories here. The best…</div>
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Mary Alice Monroehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03022743509749320592noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8347243279318294019.post-31691672016594107372016-02-14T06:47:00.002-08:002016-02-14T06:54:56.093-08:00<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-fKUBv66K8mQKFyywEnTTW1i1hFne5FQ671jx-wTvRcKK57YX2AFg2-_0Gz51rAEqTqryM5DYvPuMjtTUAMr4oV7JOUFI3USrhDKWQfPqxkuCrZ-2GCCqZe4rcKEVXJ5mvE9HKKUfoCk/s1600/love.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-fKUBv66K8mQKFyywEnTTW1i1hFne5FQ671jx-wTvRcKK57YX2AFg2-_0Gz51rAEqTqryM5DYvPuMjtTUAMr4oV7JOUFI3USrhDKWQfPqxkuCrZ-2GCCqZe4rcKEVXJ5mvE9HKKUfoCk/s1600/love.jpg" /></a></div>
<span style="color: red;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: red;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: red;">Secrets of a Long Time Love</span><br />
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<div>
It all started at a fondue party. That should be your first clue as to how long we've been together. I didn't particularly want to go to a party that night, having just had a break up. But my brother, Greg, was visiting and he wanted to meet girls. It was February and I was expecting a dreary, lonely Valentine's Day so I went. </div>
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<div>
Shelley Shlicker, yes that was her real name, worked with me at The Encyclopedia Britannica. For you youngsters out there, that was the Google of our generation. It was a bitter cold Chicago night, the kind that freezes tears on your cheeks. I stepped into her apartment, grateful for the warmth, and looked around the room. There were several writers and corporate type men in jackets, good looking, circling the fondue pots. I remember setting my coat down and slowly looking across the room. There, standing against the wall, was the most beautiful man I'd ever seen. He was slender with shoulder length black hair, strong cheek bones and smoldering dark eyes. Think Johnny Depp's twin in "Don Juan de Marco." Down to the velvet pants. I smile now, but this was the hippie era and in contrast to all the suits, this guy was cool. Our gazes locked and it was like I'd read about in books-- a thunderbolt. I remember thinking, "Oh no. I'm not ready for this." Did I tell you I was barely 20 years old?</div>
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<div>
I avoided him all evening. Chatted with everyone else. But when I was standing in line for the bathroom I heard a deep voice in my ear, "Hello." I closed my eyes. I was done for. </div>
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<div>
We began to talk and we've been together ever since. His name was Markus (not Mark, he told me). We were both so young. We married soon after. We both went back to school-- me to get graduate degrees in Japanese/Asian Culture, he to Medical School. Throughout the years we went through different eras. The struggling school era, Markus' medical training era that went on for ages as his career bloomed, my book writing era, and of course, the glorious years of raising our 3 children. So many years have passed and I look back at them and wonder who those kids were? How did we endure? </div>
<div>
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<div>
One secret is that we communicated our dreams and goals. We talked. A lot. Brief updates over dinner. Long chats on pillows. When we had trouble, we learned to recognize the "trigger words" that set us off on a fight and avoided them. We united in front of the children, disagreeing in private. We supported each other, working together for our future, There wasn't a "me" and "you" but only an "us." We did not see our future without the other in it.</div>
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<div>
There were tough times. Anyone married as long as we would be lying if they didn't admit that. A second secret we had is "date night." Whenever times got so we were more roommates, we went out and we had to dress up like a real date. A spritz of perfume. A fresh shave. Sometimes we'd go for dinner and a movie. More often we tried some restaurant we'd never been to before. How fancy the restaurant didn't matter. It was that we were alone, without friends or children. </div>
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<br /></div>
<div>
Now the children are grown and gone and Markus just retired. We are alone a lot and entering another "era." Gifts are not needed as much as time together. And trips... For the first time we are free to travel together without him having to arrange coverage. We just returned from a Disney cruise with our grandchildren. Those little darlings are taking center stage in this phase of our lives. But still, we are each other's Valentine. Last night we went on "date night." I dressed up, did my hair, wore sexy heels. For him. Markus put on a jacket and brought me flowers. </div>
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<div>
Our secrets to a long love really come down to communication, kindness and commitment. And romance! Remember to kiss!</div>
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<span style="color: red;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="color: red;">Happy Day for Lovers!</span><br />
<span style="color: red;"><br /></span>
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<span style="color: red;"> Markus and I at Johnny Depp's square in Hollywood!</span></div>
Mary Alice Monroehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03022743509749320592noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8347243279318294019.post-57506109168190713962015-10-27T06:19:00.000-07:002015-10-28T08:17:27.140-07:00I FELL IN LOVE WITH PAT CONROY<br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10pt;"> </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10pt;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10pt;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10pt;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10pt;"> I fell in love with Pat
Conroy when I was in my thirties. He wooed me with his smooth talking, his
mesmerizing metaphors, his biting Irish humor. He had me at “My wound is
geography.” My love grew with each book of his that I read. I caressed the
pages, poring over his words.</span><o:p></o:p><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10pt;">
Many people associate Pat Conroy with his vivid, heartbreakingly accurate
descriptions of his dysfunctional family. They discuss the relationships
between mother and son, brother and sister, and most certainly, father and son.
</span><o:p></o:p><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10pt;">
When I think of Pat Conroy, however, I always connect with his sultry, salty
descriptions of a landscape we lovingly call the Lowcountry. His passion for
the vast, seductive wetlands teeming with life is vividly portrayed on every
page. He reveals how the ocean and creeks provide a feast so that even the
poorest of men can eat like a king. Conroy brings us fully into his story
world, not only in the hearts of minds of his characters, but in the sights,
scents and sounds of this unique part of the South he calls home.</span><o:p></o:p><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10pt;">
I, too, write stories set in the Lowcountry. I am inspired by this architect of
words, this writer I have fallen in love with. His words sustain me. Over the
past years I’ve been fortunate to meet Pat and call him friend. We share a love
of the landscape and found a common ground as warriors to protect it. But I do
not compare myself to Pat Conroy. Nor should any other writer of the
Lowcountry, not even the South. We all owe a debt to this literary
groundbreaker. There is only one Prince of Tides. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10pt;"></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10pt;"></span><o:p></o:p><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 13.3333px;"> Join us Oct. 29-31 in Beaufort, SC for "Pat Conroy at 70," a literary festival celebrating South Carolina's prince of titles. </span><a href="http://www.sc.edu/uscpress/microsites/conroy70/index.html" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 13.3333px;" target="_blank">Click here for details</a><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 13.3333px;">. </span>Mary Alice Monroehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03022743509749320592noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8347243279318294019.post-39500518951249147642015-09-25T09:30:00.000-07:002015-09-27T18:26:59.533-07:00A NEW SEASON, BOOK, AND ISLAND EXPERIENCE<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">When the autumnal equinox happened this week, you could feel the changing of seasons here in the Lowcountry. A cool breeze pushed out the humid air, for at least the day.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Autumn's arrival bids farewell to the season of week-long family vacations and much-needed road trips. Were you able to getaway for a bit? My summer was slammed<span style="background-color: white; color: #141823; line-height: 19.32px;"> with book tour, a broken hand, family visits and another book to write. But I did manage to escape to this picturesque place. </span></span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Dewees Island, SC (photo courtesy: <a href="http://deweesrealestate.com/contact/" target="_blank">Judy Fairchild</a>)</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="color: #141823; line-height: 19.32px;">This is Dewees Island, South Carolina; a Lowcountry barrier island that's only a twenty-minute ferry ride away from my home on the Isle of Palms. T</span><span style="color: #141823; line-height: 19.32px;">his is where I got to work on the early chapters of my next novel, <i><a href="http://www.maryalicemonroe.com/books/" target="_blank">A LOWCOUNTRY WEDDING</a>.</i></span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #141823; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; line-height: 19.32px;">During this short respite, </span><span style="color: #141823; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; line-height: 19.32px;">I began each day at dawn with coffee in hand on the screened porch overlooking the vast marshland. I could spot terns, egrets and osprey hunting for their morning meals in the golden and green cordgrass. Each </span><span style="color: #141823; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; line-height: 19.32px;">evening, I enjoyed the swelling music of cicadas and the rising moon.</span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My porch view of Dewees Island</td></tr>
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<span style="color: #141823; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; line-height: 19.32px;">This was a rare escape for me last month, and I treasured my time there. The house where I stayed is the same one the lucky winners of my Summer's End Sweepstakes stayed at back in May. Kathy and Chip Webb of North Carolina were our lucky grand prize winners, and they wrote about their island escape. </span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Meet the winners: Kathy & Chip Webb's Dewees Island getaway</td></tr>
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<span style="color: #141823; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; line-height: 19.32px;">Here's what they said: </span></div>
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<span style="color: #141823;"><span style="line-height: 19.32px;"><b><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Chip's View: </span></b></span></span><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; line-height: 16.003px;">The Dewees Island Ferry is a portal from one reality to another. We arrived at dusk, taking the ferry across the dolphin-laced waters to the Island. </span><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; line-height: 16.003px;">The Marshview Cottage is a restful retreat. The great room opens to a screened porch overlooking the marsh. The marsh changes with the tides and the passing of the day, offering visual delights from sunrise to sunset. Morning coffee, the warmth of the morning sun, and a copy of “The Water is Wide” (by Pat Conroy) from the bookshelf resulted in an incomparable start to a day, Dewees Island style. </span><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; line-height: 16.003px;">The second morning, Kathy and I took the golf cart to one of the beach access trails. To experience the beach at Dewees Island is to walk a beach as did the original inhabitants and to be awed by unspoiled nature. </span></blockquote>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span"><b>Kathy’s View: </b></span><span class="Apple-style-span">After three days of Island living, I love Dewees Island. It is an amazing living classroom for children and adults I learned so much about the creatures and plants that inhabit this little piece of heaven. After exploring the Island, I did not realize what the residents had until I walked out on to the beach and walked for miles, picking up live starfish and whole sand dollars. I loved every minute of it: the quiet, the beauty. It was like living in a Mary Alice Monroe book!</span></span></blockquote>
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<span style="color: #141823; font-family: helvetica, arial, sans-serif; line-height: normal;"><span style="line-height: 19.32px;">Maybe their words will inspire you to experience the island for yourself one day. If you're looking to disconnect from the busyness of daily life and reconnect with nature, Dewees Island is unmatched. I can't think of a better place to be, no matter the season. </span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #141823; font-family: helvetica, arial, sans-serif; line-height: normal;"><span style="line-height: 19.32px;">Where's the best place you have stayed that immersed you in the natural world? </span></span><br />
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Mary Alice Monroehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03022743509749320592noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8347243279318294019.post-39578820493699150422015-09-10T17:00:00.000-07:002015-09-10T17:00:04.005-07:00A LOWCOUNTRY WEDDING BOOK COVER REVEAL!!!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="text-align: left;">It's thrilling for me to see the cover of one of my novels for the first time. The charge never gets old. I think it's<i><b> </b>gorgeous</i>, thanks to the talented team at Gallery Books. To me, the dock symbolizes the lowcountry, and more, is important given the significance of the dock at Sea Breeze in the trilogy. </span><br />
That bride could even be Harper. What do you think?</div>
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<span style="text-align: left;"><br /></span>A book cover reveal makes the writing process come into sharper focus, especially when you're still crafting chapters! Even though there is a lot left to do before next year's book release, the journey of writing <a href="http://www.maryalicemonroe.com/books/" target="_blank">A LOWCOUNTRY WEDDING</a> is meaningful. I'm excited to share it with you May 2016!</div>
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Thank you, wonderful readers, for making <i>The Lowcountry Summer Series</i> a bestselling success and for wanting to read more about the Muir sisters--Eudora, Carson and Harper--and their charming grandmother Mamaw, and of course Delphine. All will be included as <i>The Lowcountry Summer Series </i>continues. </div>
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Save the date my friends for May 3, 2016 because you're invited to enjoy A LOWCOUNTRY WEDDING.</div>
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<b><i><a href="http://www.maryalicemonroe.com/lowcountry-wedding/" target="_blank">Click here for A LOWCOUNTRY WEDDING book description</a></i></b></div>
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Mary Alice Monroehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03022743509749320592noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8347243279318294019.post-79468238791847225162015-08-24T08:10:00.000-07:002015-09-14T07:12:27.236-07:00A TURTLE NIGHTA glorious night on the beach last night! <br />
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Along the southeastern coast we are in the hatching part of the sea turtle nesting season. Last night I went out to the beach on Isle of Palms, SC with my fellow Island Turtle Team members. Sitting on the sand under a foggy moon, being bitten by vicious beach ants, we watched as a loggerhead nest slowly rose to a boil. When that happens, the loggerhead hatchlings, already free from their eggs, begin digging as a group and rise together like an elevator from 20" down. At the top they rest for awhile. <br />
From the top we see a concave circle in the sand. <br />
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Over the course of an hour, or 2 or 3, it's like watching a birth. Little bumps appear on top of the sand. Like contractions, the circle heaves and slowly the bumps get larger and I can see dark tips of heads and flippers emerge as the group below pushes upward. We watch expectantly. Suddenly something triggers the group that it's time to go! With a great heave the 3 inch hatchlings begin scrambling out, climbing over each other, flippers waving, hatchlings tumbling down the slope, a hundred or more of them, in a mad dash for the sea. It looks like a pot boiling over, which is how it got the name "a boil" When this happens, the turtles are healthy and vivacious and as a group they have a better chance at survival, fanning out across the beach, following the rules of predator glut. <br />
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It wasn't the best of conditions on the beach for them. The moon wasn't bright, and sadly-- and frustratingly-- some homeowner (who should have known better) left a bright light burning on her outside porch. It was a hassle getting all the hatchlings to the sea without them turning toward the bright light --and certain death. Plus, the sea was still far out and these hatchlings faced a long journey across two galleys to reach home. <br />
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But make it they did. My pals on the team, Mary and Jo, and Christi from the SC Aquarium and her sweet daughter Lillian were there to guide them to the water. The hatchlings were valiant as the waves tumbled them back, further up the shore. Over and over they righted themselves and headed straight back in, following their ancient instinct to swim.<br />
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They'll swim for three days in a frenzy, non stop, to reach the vast sargassum floats in the Gulf that will protect them from predators as they get bigger. It is estimated that only 1 in 1000 of them will reach adulthood. Of those survivors, only the females will return to our area beaches some thirty years later to nest and continue the cycle of life.<br />
A long journey ahead, little turtles. God speed. I thank God I was there last night to witness the small miracle of nature. And I pray that I will be here --with my friends on the turtle team--to welcome the mama turtles home. <br />
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** Pix by Barbara Bergwerf from our picture book: TURTLE SUMMER. Published by Arbordale Publishing <br />
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MAM and Mary Pringle</div>
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A boil!</div>
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Fanning out.<br />
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Hatchling makes it to the sea.</div>
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Mary Alice Monroehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03022743509749320592noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8347243279318294019.post-29484872478899788682015-05-20T03:00:00.000-07:002015-05-20T03:00:04.332-07:00HAPPY BOOK BIRTHDAY!<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj87zh1UkgfLHLnk0I-iIYHM1ZNYEgApn41f9mwTzauXv1LYcZ5CZlRopftUCcyo7pzCwvJecWtEeHvntOdZI1sBGOzr1j4mogcpeN6hU8vlrZr2bJKEuFkd-5JFtj63X1qvXjEW-EzLJw/s1600/Summer%2527s+End.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj87zh1UkgfLHLnk0I-iIYHM1ZNYEgApn41f9mwTzauXv1LYcZ5CZlRopftUCcyo7pzCwvJecWtEeHvntOdZI1sBGOzr1j4mogcpeN6hU8vlrZr2bJKEuFkd-5JFtj63X1qvXjEW-EzLJw/s320/Summer%2527s+End.jpg" width="204" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Born May 19, 2015<br />On store shelves now!</td></tr>
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<br />THANK YOU.<br /><br /><o:p></o:p></div>
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THANK YOU.<br /><br /><o:p></o:p></div>
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THANK YOU… To my fans, who lined the block outside of the South Carolina
Aquarium, Monday night in Charleston, SC for the official book launch party
of THE SUMMER’S END.<br /><br /></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvsmtV8lVvX0hMXFRc4Y2O2VY16ze7NQsgzKplcfYAR7yVtd7-MSaRw_eAzK2rb4j_aX67Zga-O5HvX3QKxNgBm38CakiWp8dn9xel2lVF5tXG8nlXgdvoDi7kCnpFVLUFLsodslngH2E/s1600/fans+in+line.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="239" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvsmtV8lVvX0hMXFRc4Y2O2VY16ze7NQsgzKplcfYAR7yVtd7-MSaRw_eAzK2rb4j_aX67Zga-O5HvX3QKxNgBm38CakiWp8dn9xel2lVF5tXG8nlXgdvoDi7kCnpFVLUFLsodslngH2E/s320/fans+in+line.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Nearly 300 came to the book launch party!</td></tr>
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THANK YOU... To my team and the aquarium staff who organized this huge party.<br /><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Thanking the crowd and sharing exciting news!</td></tr>
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THANK YOU... to my publisher, Gallery Books, for continuing to give me
the opportunity to share my stories with readers around the world.<br /><br /></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgd40KVwWF5JbNSbIkIlbgH44RyEfqNs0RqBNp_6OBXdbnMRO03AyiY0IFuFEwB1oPriW0De8fXWaKO5HFRZUUii72k3lA8lseSsX5xC16AtgAh_ik-p2sicHutsma6GjQvzkpLilwZe4c/s1600/Lauren+Mary+Alice+and+Mac.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgd40KVwWF5JbNSbIkIlbgH44RyEfqNs0RqBNp_6OBXdbnMRO03AyiY0IFuFEwB1oPriW0De8fXWaKO5HFRZUUii72k3lA8lseSsX5xC16AtgAh_ik-p2sicHutsma6GjQvzkpLilwZe4c/s320/Lauren+Mary+Alice+and+Mac.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My amazing editor, Lauren McKenna flew in to town.</td></tr>
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<br />THANK YOU... to my family for always believing in me and uplifting me.</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjdeBJ8PZhxgGBCht_WerkZK4Iwwq7u74hy5yRo5acCapZ3LfF5kIDL4oj3gWak-KodclWwCYq12fGinrC46jXBlvi8zVZ2_wUOQyHMWGzmeekI1ObfxwcIO_Bkj48Xt64SBYKQijO5xY/s1600/Mary+Alice+signing.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjdeBJ8PZhxgGBCht_WerkZK4Iwwq7u74hy5yRo5acCapZ3LfF5kIDL4oj3gWak-KodclWwCYq12fGinrC46jXBlvi8zVZ2_wUOQyHMWGzmeekI1ObfxwcIO_Bkj48Xt64SBYKQijO5xY/s200/Mary+Alice+signing.jpg" width="148" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Signing books </td></tr>
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And THANK <u>YOU</u>... for being a reader, buying my books, and telling
your friends about my novels. Without
you, I would not be celebrating this book release, one that marks twenty years
for me as a published author. I’m
incredibly grateful for this milestone. </div>
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Nearly 300 friends and fans came to the Aquarium to celebrate THE SUMMER'S END book launch with me. People from near and far. Some drove from Charlotte and
Highland, North Carolina. Others drove
in early from North Myrtle Beach, and a handful flew into town from Ohio. And my dear sweet daughter Gretta, endured
delayed flights and layovers from Los Angeles to Charleston, just to be with
me. </div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCMNqPJxlmaC8zATuxKFRvotcmhsUN8lLzBoK-6WQdw_SfCIY45e4mPhE7tvk8-AwthRWolGCm0aY1kpo-hqK3ni_3HUvJtbewNpg9WLj87yIOWb31xnEneLBF5OMDtYxfb0Yniy3utdk/s1600/Introducing+Gretta.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCMNqPJxlmaC8zATuxKFRvotcmhsUN8lLzBoK-6WQdw_SfCIY45e4mPhE7tvk8-AwthRWolGCm0aY1kpo-hqK3ni_3HUvJtbewNpg9WLj87yIOWb31xnEneLBF5OMDtYxfb0Yniy3utdk/s320/Introducing+Gretta.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Gretta made it! I'm one very happy mama.</td></tr>
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Thank you all for making this book release extra special. You made me feel like a beautiful queen. It's a night I will never forget!</div>
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With THE SUMMER’S END now out on store shelves, I’m on the
road for book tour. I do hope you’ll
join me at an event near you. We’ll
talk, we’ll laugh and we’ll celebrate together our love for great books! <br /><br /><i><a href="http://www.maryalicemonroe.com/appearances/" target="_blank">Click here for book tour schedule.</a> </i><i><a href="http://www.maryalicemonroe.com/summers-end/" target="_blank">Click here to order your copy today.</a></i></div>
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<br />Watch this short video for a little back story about THE SUMMER’S END:</div>
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<iframe width="320" height="266" class="YOUTUBE-iframe-video" data-thumbnail-src="https://i.ytimg.com/vi/d4fXuxgtgBU/0.jpg" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/d4fXuxgtgBU?feature=player_embedded" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen></iframe></div>
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<br />When you finish the final page of THE SUMMER’S END, take
heart. All is not entirely over. My publisher has asked me to continue the
story of Mamaw, and her three granddaughters—Eudora, Carson, and Harper. And this time, someone’s getting
married! Look for the new book,
LOWCOUNTRY WEDDING (working title) next summer. </div>
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For now though, I hope you thoroughly enjoy this next installment of the
Lowcountry Summer Series. <o:p></o:p></div>
Mary Alice Monroehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03022743509749320592noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8347243279318294019.post-64630034251959722602015-05-11T17:00:00.000-07:002015-05-11T18:28:11.724-07:00COUNTING DOWN AND PACKING UP<b>Counting Down and Packing Up</b><br />
<b><br /></b><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">
The calendar says summer begins in mid-June. But really, summer begins in just one week--May 19th. Well, okay, at least for me it does. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">That's the day THE SUMMER'S END lands on store shelves! I'm <span style="background-color: white; line-height: 18px;">excited to finally be able to share the third installment of the</span><em style="line-height: 18px;"> Lowcountry Summer Trilogy</em><span style="background-color: white; line-height: 18px;"> </span><span style="background-color: white; line-height: 18px;">with you. </span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; line-height: 18px;"><br /></span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; line-height: 18px;">In THE SUMMER'S END, I take you back to the charming seaside town of Sullivan's Island, South Carolina, where Mamaw is bracing to sell her beloved family estate, Sea Breeze. It’s an emotional season as Mamaw and her "summer girls"--granddaughters Eudora, Carson, and Harper--face loss and struggle to find a fresh start in life. Harper, the youngest sister, who lived under the narcissistic abuse of her wealthy and influential mother, has no home or career after breaking free of her mother’s tyranny. And she finds herself needing courage to release her insecurities, recognize her strengths and accept love fully to save her family and her future. </span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; line-height: 18px;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: white; line-height: 18px;">Here's a little sneak peek of THE SUMMER'S END.</span><span style="background-color: white; color: #444444; line-height: 18px;"> </span><span style="color: blue;"><span style="background-color: white; line-height: 18px;"> </span><em style="line-height: 18px;"><span style="font-weight: bold;"><a href="http://www.maryalicemonroe.com/site/epage/157668_67.htm" target="_blank"><span style="color: blue;">Read excerpt now</span>.</a></span></em></span></span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhayEGH_9MKJmYlHttmfnJjQMLnvFtvdjAzAklAFFOnC902vhEH0tKfhHHYvKvxZKPrM2P1l2q19aIY2QIisWTbpjaEcGyl9Zu_HQn_iJg2a3-YDM_bBuNzt51G5txYzhRSuIr9TVdc5mY/s1600/46225_SummersEnd_OnlineAssets8.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhayEGH_9MKJmYlHttmfnJjQMLnvFtvdjAzAklAFFOnC902vhEH0tKfhHHYvKvxZKPrM2P1l2q19aIY2QIisWTbpjaEcGyl9Zu_HQn_iJg2a3-YDM_bBuNzt51G5txYzhRSuIr9TVdc5mY/s200/46225_SummersEnd_OnlineAssets8.jpg" width="200" /></a><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;">You can pre-order your copy today at from your favorite local bookstore, or</span><span style="color: #444444; line-height: 18px;"> </span><a href="http://www.amazon.com/The-Summers-End-Lowcountry-Summer/dp/1476709025/ref=tmm_pap_title_0?ie=UTF8&qid=1431111003&sr=1-1" style="line-height: 18px;" target="_blank"><b><span style="color: blue;">order here</span></b></a><span style="color: #444444; line-height: 18px;">. </span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="color: #444444; line-height: 18px;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;">For anyone who has pre-</span><span style="line-height: 18px;">ordered, make sure to enter my weekly Summer's End Giveaway on my Facebook page. Prizes every Tuesday! To enter, just type in your purchase confirmation number in the comment box of the contest post. </span></span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; line-height: 18px;">I'm also delighted to share this new video with you, a short conversation about THE SUMMER'S END at my house with my assistant, Angela.</span><span style="background-color: white; color: #444444; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; line-height: 18px;"> </span><em style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; line-height: 18px;"><strong><a href="https://youtu.be/d4fXuxgtgBU" target="_blank"><span style="color: blue;">Click here to watch video.</span></a></strong></em><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="color: #444444;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Meantime, I've been busy writing another book, doing media interviews, preparing for my book talks, and packing for the tour. My sister Ruthie will be my road warrior again for this 33-city book tour. Am I coming to a place near you? <span style="color: #444444;"> </span><em><strong><a href="http://www.maryalicemonroe.com/appearances/" target="_blank"><span style="color: blue;">View book tour schedule now.</span></a></strong></em></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Join me at an event. We'll have a great time! And, if you live within driving distance of Charleston, South Carolina... come celebrate the <u>official</u> book launch party for THE SUMMER'S END at the South Carolina Aquarium on Monday, May 18th, 6:30-8:30 p.m. I can't think of a more beautiful setting for a book party with wine, food, live island music, and most importantly, friends<span style="color: #444444;">. </span><a href="http://www.maryalicemonroe.com/site/epage/157976_67.htm" target="_blank"><b><span style="color: blue;">View invitation here.</span></b></a></span></div>
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<span style="line-height: 18px;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I'm eager to connect with everyone on book tour again. But I admit, I feel overwhelmed at times juggling so many things at once. We all do. Recently I was reminded to <i>slow down</i> by blogger <span style="color: blue;"><a href="http://angiemizzell.com/blog//grabbing-moments" target="_blank"><span style="color: blue;">Angie Mizzell</span></a> </span>with these words on her recent blog post:<span style="color: #444444;"> </span></span></span><br />
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<span style="line-height: 35.2000007629395px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><b><i>"Be present. Grab moments. Two things that deserve top position on my to-do list every day." </i></b> </span><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: x-small;"> --Angie Mizzell</span></span></blockquote>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-weight: normal;">Slowing down when life is extremely busy sounds counter-intuitive but it's exactly what we need. Many of us carry overloaded plates with work demands, home life, family needs, graduations, events and an endless list of other commitments. But I hope you'll heed Angie's advice to "grab moments". For me, it's working in my garden for a half-hour, or taking the dog for a quick walk on the beach. Re-connecting with nature refocuses my mind and restores my energy to press onward with enthusiasm. I hope it does the same for your soul. </span></h4>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-weight: normal;"><i>How do you "grab moments" for yourself during your hectic days? </i></span></h4>
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Mary Alice Monroehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03022743509749320592noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8347243279318294019.post-57801929416397818822015-05-04T10:53:00.000-07:002015-05-04T10:56:44.378-07:00BEHIND THE NOVEL: A MOTHER-DAUGHTER PERSPECTIVE<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7VlBE6vfhuQHaC_q2kddVxaaFhamJ4PbiDEoyuD2wHoNyZd0YQm42ws-by8x0O4LSrbXyVvV-MtwbNIGYehRV9h5hdFflW1z7EbHLDl0hGJss6sJ6VU19M2naeRTGhOq5tQq_oNl2kjs/s1600/box+of+books.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7VlBE6vfhuQHaC_q2kddVxaaFhamJ4PbiDEoyuD2wHoNyZd0YQm42ws-by8x0O4LSrbXyVvV-MtwbNIGYehRV9h5hdFflW1z7EbHLDl0hGJss6sJ6VU19M2naeRTGhOq5tQq_oNl2kjs/s200/box+of+books.jpg" width="150" /></a></div>
The publisher sent me this last week-- a box of THE SUMMER'S END. This is<i> my</i> first time seeing my story in book form. It's such a thrill! And it can only mean one thing... pub day is almost here! <br />
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In just two weeks THE SUMMER'S END will hit store shelves and I'm excited to share the final installment of the Lowcountry Summer Trilogy with you. This book cover has special meaning to me; the model is my daughter Gretta. She's also the inspiration of one of the trilogy's main characters.<br />
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Recently, we were asked by women's fiction book website XOXOAfterDark to share the details on how the cover came to be and talk about our special mother-daughter relationship in a guest blog post. Here it is: <a href="http://xoxoafterdark.com/2015/05/04/summers-end-mother-daughter/" style="text-align: center;" target="_blank"><b>THE SUMMER'S END: A MOTHER DAUGHTER LOOK BEHIND THE NOVEL</b></a><br />
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I enjoyed hearing my daughter's perspective on our relationship and my work. Feel free to ask us follow-up questions after reading this. And make sure to go to the end of the blog post to see a short video that inspired THE SUMMER'S END cover. <br />
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I can't believe the book comes out in two weeks and I hit the road for book tour. I'm excited to reconnect with friends, booksellers and readers, plus make new friends along the way. Am I coming to a city near you? <a href="http://www.maryalicemonroe.com/appearances/" target="_blank">CLICK HERE</a> to see my book tour schedule. <br />
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And I'm kicking the tour off with an official Book Launch Party at the South Carolina Aquarium, May 18th in Charleston, SC. If you're local or want to take a fun road trip with friends, come celebrate with me! <a href="http://www.maryalicemonroe.com/site/epage/157976_67.htm" target="_blank">CLICK HERE</a> for the invitation. Let's launch THE SUMMER'S END together!Mary Alice Monroehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03022743509749320592noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8347243279318294019.post-44811264642365222812015-04-27T11:50:00.000-07:002015-04-27T11:50:01.570-07:00NEED A VACATION? I'M GIVING ONE AWAY...<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinVZjcl-yPsJLlhVzeT8x5mbW9rfmlKbbnPD5BEQNACIxIR4SP4kbdWgml8BHBhzNzToWCshyphenhyphen2t0CMqiRBZbSD0YIVyZBJicI9HgbGKTxlw8ns5WSj0JoY8H4U47cV8f03c1LtaGxWz6E/s1600/Dewees+Island+Marshview+Cottage.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinVZjcl-yPsJLlhVzeT8x5mbW9rfmlKbbnPD5BEQNACIxIR4SP4kbdWgml8BHBhzNzToWCshyphenhyphen2t0CMqiRBZbSD0YIVyZBJicI9HgbGKTxlw8ns5WSj0JoY8H4U47cV8f03c1LtaGxWz6E/s1600/Dewees+Island+Marshview+Cottage.jpg" height="300" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Dewees Island, South Carolina</td></tr>
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<b>WANT TO GETAWAY?</b><br />
When is the last time you had a great vacation? If you're in need of a break from the busyness and noise of daily demands, I have the perfect destination for you. And I'm giving away one vacation package to one lucky reader this week. (<i>details below</i>)<br />
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Dewees Island, South Carolina is a unique, private barrier island, 11 miles north of Charleston and just across the inlet from the Isle of Palms. The nature preserve is only accessible by ferry boat and offers picturesque views of pristine forest, marshland and private beaches. Here's proof:</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlhpIsVyxM-aSaQXDiqIcXUPLAlEWSskVU8KHy366ROz7SEfdY9Ty8Rz8KFSiqqahrDgR2C4tIZvsbA2RNLWrCaGdMKJRgleryGgNEhIA5-JFVwGgyGlzEo_c3D8jDaWDNYjph00a5OKg/s1600/Dewees+Island+Beach.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlhpIsVyxM-aSaQXDiqIcXUPLAlEWSskVU8KHy366ROz7SEfdY9Ty8Rz8KFSiqqahrDgR2C4tIZvsbA2RNLWrCaGdMKJRgleryGgNEhIA5-JFVwGgyGlzEo_c3D8jDaWDNYjph00a5OKg/s1600/Dewees+Island+Beach.jpg" height="288" width="320" /></a><br /></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxzTZMWrrCj-S5aGTb3LWmzDrg_AFp1R2Qxfg9SdtV23Br_wd05r-40g0VdikfEyOVzC0SUuIXfrTBhkk4oWooRpz3WkHOiywiPMi-TjlSS04msEInfo5aHhXvHMPtKTEv1gPiiZ-AZnI/s1600/Dewees+Island+sunset.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxzTZMWrrCj-S5aGTb3LWmzDrg_AFp1R2Qxfg9SdtV23Br_wd05r-40g0VdikfEyOVzC0SUuIXfrTBhkk4oWooRpz3WkHOiywiPMi-TjlSS04msEInfo5aHhXvHMPtKTEv1gPiiZ-AZnI/s1600/Dewees+Island+sunset.jpg" height="320" width="260" /></a></div>
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These photos were taken just the other day by Judy Fairchild, a master naturalist, island resident and realtor. Breathtaking!<br /></div>
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On Dewees, everyone gets around by foot, bicycle or golf cart, along crushed shell roads. Nature abounds here with gators, sea turtles, dolphins, shorebirds, and abundant fish. It's a Lowcountry paradise that deserves to be on anyone's vacation bucket list.<br />
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<b>WIN A VACATION HERE!</b><br />
I'm thrilled to share this Lowcountry gem with you through THE SUMMER'S END sweepstakes happening on my <a href="https://www.facebook.com/maryalicemonroe" target="_blank">Facebook author page</a>. One lucky person will win a three-night getaway to this three-bedroom waterfront cottage. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinVZjcl-yPsJLlhVzeT8x5mbW9rfmlKbbnPD5BEQNACIxIR4SP4kbdWgml8BHBhzNzToWCshyphenhyphen2t0CMqiRBZbSD0YIVyZBJicI9HgbGKTxlw8ns5WSj0JoY8H4U47cV8f03c1LtaGxWz6E/s1600/Dewees+Island+Marshview+Cottage.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinVZjcl-yPsJLlhVzeT8x5mbW9rfmlKbbnPD5BEQNACIxIR4SP4kbdWgml8BHBhzNzToWCshyphenhyphen2t0CMqiRBZbSD0YIVyZBJicI9HgbGKTxlw8ns5WSj0JoY8H4U47cV8f03c1LtaGxWz6E/s1600/Dewees+Island+Marshview+Cottage.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgY5vv9tGMYe1I5uhyphenhyphenn6IMgV2EYG1FCCJXfwiI1bMdNOgQNM-V5ak2QaadEspW3SNdO4nC4AWirprR4-ZYpqwwlDqG5qXs9yvvEKBhGLuqfs8Sf3zyja3DLCjX4zCbvoXllnSkwND21BPE/s1600/Dewees+Island+cottage+porch+view+1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgY5vv9tGMYe1I5uhyphenhyphenn6IMgV2EYG1FCCJXfwiI1bMdNOgQNM-V5ak2QaadEspW3SNdO4nC4AWirprR4-ZYpqwwlDqG5qXs9yvvEKBhGLuqfs8Sf3zyja3DLCjX4zCbvoXllnSkwND21BPE/s1600/Dewees+Island+cottage+porch+view+1.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a><br /></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbhntMh9Jz236IKpk_gAZ8_RRTnnhCN1QCevXKGrmiTqxR03Cm5uLdNy6bWZmNWNfiEGEl1Cn-wRr7fWM9UU0w9v0kgBS97PPcWU1VBfsWH9f5G2yD2uHp_iWHm_FNWHATu6ska0SuW-Y/s1600/Dewees+Island+Cottage+entryway.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="display: inline !important; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbhntMh9Jz236IKpk_gAZ8_RRTnnhCN1QCevXKGrmiTqxR03Cm5uLdNy6bWZmNWNfiEGEl1Cn-wRr7fWM9UU0w9v0kgBS97PPcWU1VBfsWH9f5G2yD2uHp_iWHm_FNWHATu6ska0SuW-Y/s1600/Dewees+Island+Cottage+entryway.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="text-align: left;">Imagine how great a cup of coffee or glass of wine will taste with that porch view!</span></div>
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The winner will also receive a private nature tour of the island, a sunset dolphin cruise with Barrier Island Eco Tours, and tickets to the May 18th official launch party of THE SUMMER'S END at the South Carolina Aquarium. </div>
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<b>HERE'S YOUR CHANCE TO WIN!</b></div>
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It's easy to enter. Pre-order a copy of my new novel THE SUMMER'S END and post your confirmation number in the comment box of the contest post on my <a href="https://www.facebook.com/maryalicemonroe" target="_blank">Facebook author page</a>. You can 'SHARE' the contest post to increase your odds of winning. I'll announce the winner 9 p.m. (EST) on Tuesday, April 28th. </div>
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A big thank you to my friends at <a href="http://deweesrealestate.com/" target="_blank">Dewees Real Estate</a>, <a href="http://nature-tours.com/" target="_blank">Barrier Island Eco Tours</a>, and the <a href="http://scaquarium.org/" target="_blank">South Carolina Aquarium</a> for their contributions to this sweepstakes grand prize.<br />
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I'm giving out prizes <u>every</u> Tuesday until the May 19th book release day of THE SUMMER'S END. I'm excited to share the final installment of the Lowcountry Summer Trilogy with all of you next month.<br />
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Mary Alice Monroehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03022743509749320592noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8347243279318294019.post-83898381662067008272015-04-08T09:56:00.000-07:002015-04-08T11:55:03.940-07:00Let's Launch this Book Together<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
Wow! It just dawned on me as I opened up my blog page that this year marks my 20th anniversary as a published author. TWENTY. YEARS. </div>
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Seeing this in writing, saying it aloud seems ... surreal. I am profoundly grateful. Whether you've read every novel I've published or just one, you have contributed to my writing career. I consider it a rare gift to be able to have a job that allows me to combine my passions for writing and nature conservation. </div>
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This adds even greater meaning to this year's book launch, and I want you to celebrate with me! <a href="http://www.maryalicemonroe.com/summers-end/" target="_blank">THE SUMMER'S END</a> comes out in just six weeks and is the conclusion to the bestselling Lowcountry Summer trilogy. </div>
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The summer is just beginning with THE SUMMER'S END. Let's party in an extra special way at the South Carolina Aquarium! <br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnCUMdtV67qQmLWvtvy2fEGi_gRvInQ7fkiXiPtygAajl0GjN7RCZ9V0yMcwtZv2JBAHmhF4UqCHN6SqV0ingd3ItHM4sQPOBmnMEQWJAKK-HffFGHdrI6cSbikniIffcGFRU2_oOhVS8/s1600/Invitation_Book+Release+Party.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnCUMdtV67qQmLWvtvy2fEGi_gRvInQ7fkiXiPtygAajl0GjN7RCZ9V0yMcwtZv2JBAHmhF4UqCHN6SqV0ingd3ItHM4sQPOBmnMEQWJAKK-HffFGHdrI6cSbikniIffcGFRU2_oOhVS8/s1600/Invitation_Book+Release+Party.jpg" height="400" width="390" /></a></div>
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<a href="http://scaquarium.org/" target="_blank">The South Carolina Aquarium</a> is a treasured attraction here in Charleston, South Carolina. On Monday, May 18th from 6:30-8:30 p.m., you'll get to enjoy all that the aquarium has to offer at this exclusive, after-hours party. Enjoy all of the exhibits, including the brand new <a href="http://scaquarium.org/sharkshallows" target="_blank">Shark Shallows</a>, with a glass of wine in hand, while nibbling on southern treats, and enjoying a <a href="http://www.otherbrotherent.com/mike_greer.html" target="_blank">live steel drum performance</a> by musician Mike Greer.<br />
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If you're out of town and looking for a place to stay, the <a href="http://www.francismarionhotel.com/" target="_blank">Francis Marion Hotel</a> in historic downtown Charleston and <a href="http://thepalmshotel.us/" target="_blank">The Palms Oceanfront Hotel </a>on Isle of Palms are offering a limited number of rooms at a discount rate just for my guests, under the group name: "Mary Alice Monroe Book Party." <br />
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Reserve your ticket today by calling the SC Aquarium at (843) 577-3474. It will be a night to remember and I'm eager to celebrate this milestone moment with you. Let's launch THE SUMMER'S END together!Mary Alice Monroehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03022743509749320592noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8347243279318294019.post-92045852059263598882015-03-31T12:40:00.000-07:002015-03-31T12:40:50.499-07:00A Sneak Peek at "The Summer's End"<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_o4VVLQa-j6QTo7cb33ve8jlHI3InikSYpfUhsovlmFXtAUl9PuptXJ3fS5gLv1gDt1Nn71GULidIfEW3qGttIAHgvVETxJ36QkY7Ca7QsIk5z_8PZ3lNHP0T-ZQrlac6OstOyunUTaY/s1600/46225_SummersEnd_OnlineAssets_Facebook.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_o4VVLQa-j6QTo7cb33ve8jlHI3InikSYpfUhsovlmFXtAUl9PuptXJ3fS5gLv1gDt1Nn71GULidIfEW3qGttIAHgvVETxJ36QkY7Ca7QsIk5z_8PZ3lNHP0T-ZQrlac6OstOyunUTaY/s1600/46225_SummersEnd_OnlineAssets_Facebook.jpg" height="200" width="200" /></a></div>
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Wow! Hundreds of readers have responded already to my <a href="https://www.facebook.com/maryalicemonroe" target="_blank">Lowcountry Summer Sweepstakes</a>, and we're only one full week into the contest. Thank you! This is the biggest giveaway I've been able to do so far, with an amazing grand prize--a vacation to Charleston, ranked the #1 city in the U.S. by Conde Nast Traveler Magazine readers. <br />
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This sweepstakes celebrates the countdown to the May 19th official release of my new novel THE SUMMER'S END, the long-awaited final book of <i>The Lowcountry Summer Trilogy</i>.<br />
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Today, I'm thrilled to announce that <u>everyone</u> is a winner in this week's contest! Because of the strong number of pre-orders, I'm releasing a portion of the first chapter of THE SUMMER'S END. This is the first time any of it has been posted publicly and I'm so happy to share it with you.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdDvihzX3990kWtWjlgB-xo01y26NsSWd5OYYnqrWi3FPL5rSlVLcGLy-Mrhf1rBExrQU-V-lzhENTyV8jDakuaFkka4_weTct4XFMky-ZyTFj5h6KWufapIf8aOCsvJPPwkII4TtR4ds/s1600/Summer'sEnd.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdDvihzX3990kWtWjlgB-xo01y26NsSWd5OYYnqrWi3FPL5rSlVLcGLy-Mrhf1rBExrQU-V-lzhENTyV8jDakuaFkka4_weTct4XFMky-ZyTFj5h6KWufapIf8aOCsvJPPwkII4TtR4ds/s1600/Summer'sEnd.jpg" height="200" width="128" /></a></div>
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<b><a href="http://www.maryalicemonroe.com/site/epage/157668_67.htm" target="_blank">Click here to read excerpt</a></b></div>
<span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 15.3999996185303px; line-height: 21.5599994659424px;"><br />Prizes are awarded every Tuesday and you can enter weekly. All you need to do is pre-order your copy of THE SUMMER'S END. And then post your purchase number in the comment box of the sweepstakes post on my <a href="https://www.facebook.com/maryalicemonroe" target="_blank">Facebook page</a>. Simple! If you're attending an upcoming book tour event, your RSVP qualifies for the contest too. Just post the event and date you reserved your ticket. Every entry is </span><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 15.3999996185303px; line-height: 21.5599994659424px;">eligible for the grand prize--</span><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 15.3999996185303px; line-height: 21.5599994659424px;">a Lowcountry island getaway in Charleston, South Carolina. </span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 15.3999996185303px; line-height: 21.5599994659424px;"><br /></span>
<span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 15.3999996185303px; line-height: 21.5599994659424px;"><br />Grand prize package includes:</span><br />
<ul style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Georgia, Utopia, 'Palatino Linotype', Palatino, serif; font-size: 15.3999996185303px; line-height: 21.5599994659424px; margin: 0.5em 0px; padding: 0px 2.5em;">
<li style="margin: 0px 0px 0.25em; padding: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Three-night stay at a three-bedroom, marsh view cottage on <a href="https://vimeo.com/122179548" style="color: #4b00e5; text-decoration: none;" target="_blank">Dewees Island</a><br />(Check-in date: Sunday, May 17, 2015; Check-out date: Wednesday, May 20, 2015*)</span></li>
<li style="margin: 0px 0px 0.25em; padding: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Courtesy ferry boat rides to/from Dewees Island</span></li>
<li style="margin: 0px 0px 0.25em; padding: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Personal nature tour on this pristine private island by master naturalist Judy Fairchild</span></li>
<li style="margin: 0px 0px 0.25em; padding: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Private cocktail event hosted by <a href="http://deweesislandblog.com/#sthash.h6Ka8pGR.dpbs" style="color: #4b00e5; text-decoration: none;" target="_blank">Dewees Real Estate</a></span></li>
<li style="margin: 0px 0px 0.25em; padding: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Sunset dolphin cruise for two courtesy of <a href="http://indexic.net/event/Barrier-Island-Eco-Tours/Dolphin-Discovery-Sunset-Cruise" style="color: #4b00e5; text-decoration: none;" target="_blank">Barrier Island Eco Tours</a></span></li>
<li style="margin: 0px 0px 0.25em; padding: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Two tickets to the official book launch party for <i>The Summer's End </i>at the South Carolina Aquarium</span></li>
</ul>
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 15.3999996185303px; line-height: 21.5599994659424px;"><a href="https://www.facebook.com/maryalicemonroe" target="_blank"><b>Click here to enter Lowcountry Summer Sweepstakes</b></a></span></div>
<span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 15.3999996185303px; line-height: 21.5599994659424px;"><br /></span>
Dewees Island is a beautiful barrier island next to the Isle of Palms and just 21 miles from historic downtown Charleston. Watch this short video to see the natural splendor of Dewees Island. This will be the experience of a lifetime for one lucky winner! <br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b><a href="https://vimeo.com/122179548" target="_blank">Watch video of Dewees Island</a></b></div>
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<br />Mary Alice Monroehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03022743509749320592noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8347243279318294019.post-5671327378956173912015-03-23T18:57:00.001-07:002015-04-08T12:25:04.619-07:00Need a Getaway? Here's Your Chance!<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Summer is coming and we have big things planned for the May 19th release of the long-awaited final book in the Lowcountry Summer Trilogy-- <i><b>The Summer's End</b></i>.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">First up... <b>The Summer's End Sweepstakes.</b></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">This is our biggest sweepstakes to date happening now on my <a href="https://www.facebook.com/maryalicemonroe" target="_blank">Facebook page</a>.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Weekly giveaways, and one lucky winner will enjoy a Lowcountry island getaway here in Charleston, SC. This grand prize package includes:</span><br />
<ul>
<li><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Three-night stay at a three-bedroom, marsh view cottage on <a href="https://vimeo.com/122179548" target="_blank">Dewees Island</a><br />(Check-in date: Sunday, May 17, 2015; Check-out date: Wednesday, May 20, 2015*)</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Courtesy ferry boat rides to/from Dewees Island</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Personal nature tour on this pristine private island by master naturalist Judy Fairchild</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Private cocktail event hosted by <a href="http://deweesislandblog.com/#sthash.h6Ka8pGR.dpbs" target="_blank">Dewees Real Estate</a></span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Sunset dolphin cruise for two courtesy of <a href="http://indexic.net/event/Barrier-Island-Eco-Tours/Dolphin-Discovery-Sunset-Cruise" target="_blank">Barrier Island Eco Tours</a></span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Two tickets to the official book launch party for <i>The Summer's End</i> at the South Carolina Aquarium</span></li>
</ul>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNd6zziRpKQ930NtzdeIPD3LC6EQuIcR3qZX0vB06urHRVsG6F7SnPgcWJ4uUSkh_hyphenhyphenraIUMmLbCgd8NaOpFUMq3Y4VVBHPk3j7FKBL-h5AHwVeB81I2B7RO-F5iN5tDso04iYmCMeVSE/s1600/Summer'sEnd.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNd6zziRpKQ930NtzdeIPD3LC6EQuIcR3qZX0vB06urHRVsG6F7SnPgcWJ4uUSkh_hyphenhyphenraIUMmLbCgd8NaOpFUMq3Y4VVBHPk3j7FKBL-h5AHwVeB81I2B7RO-F5iN5tDso04iYmCMeVSE/s1600/Summer'sEnd.jpg" height="200" width="128" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><b>TO WIN:</b> Pre-order my new novel <i>The Summer's End</i>. Then, enter your name and receipt number in the comment box of the sweepstakes post on my Facebook page. That's it!</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Every week new prizes will be awarded-- you can enter every week with that same receipt number. All entries are eligible for the grand prize Lowcountry Island Getaway. If you've already pre-ordered, don't worry-- your purchase qualifies too. Just enter your receipt number in the comments box of the sweepstakes post on my Facebook page. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Details are posted on my website www.maryalicemonroe.com and my Facebook page. </span><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Summer is just beginning with the May 19th release of </span><i style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">The Summer's End</i><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">!</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5WHQL7lpYz2-CYMZbh6zJ8pVKn5II9fgpdSYXlg5JXsSU6h0G_1nDTZHbnHzqkGyT1-OKMW7ZyAC8YA0kDqlSv8FwfDcI0Pey2XIzDjT69W2PYQqIVDi-7_1I73eiEO8_OP_U5dyBVZg/s1600/46225_SummersEnd_OnlineAssets_Facebook.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5WHQL7lpYz2-CYMZbh6zJ8pVKn5II9fgpdSYXlg5JXsSU6h0G_1nDTZHbnHzqkGyT1-OKMW7ZyAC8YA0kDqlSv8FwfDcI0Pey2XIzDjT69W2PYQqIVDi-7_1I73eiEO8_OP_U5dyBVZg/s1600/46225_SummersEnd_OnlineAssets_Facebook.jpg" height="320" width="320" /></a></div>
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<a href="http://www.maryalicemonroe.com/summers-end/" target="_blank"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="background-color: white;">Click here to p</span><span style="background-color: white;">re-order your copy of <i>The Summer's End</i> today </span></span></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">*Grand prize winner will be announced April 28th on Facebook and www.maryalicemonroe.com. Winner must claim prize in 48 hours after the announcement. If grand prize winner cannot redeem weekend prize during the May 17-20, 2015 dates aforementioned, Dewees Real Estate will make every effort possible to accommodate the winner with an alternative getaway date but the selected cottage on the island cannot be guaranteed.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;">*Grand prize winner is responsible for transportation to and from Charleston, SC.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;">*Winner must legal resident of the United States of America. Winner must be 18 years or older.</span>Mary Alice Monroehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03022743509749320592noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8347243279318294019.post-43762088038682618012015-03-06T05:15:00.000-08:002015-03-06T05:15:33.184-08:00MASTER CLASS<div style="text-align: center;">
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<span style="color: #333333; font-family: Georgia; font-size: 8pt;"><strong> </strong></span><br />
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<span style="color: #333333; font-family: Georgia; font-size: 8pt; font-weight: bold; line-height: 12pt;">On this, the birthday of Nobel Prize winning novelist
Gabriel Garcia Marquez, I'm sharing with you the article written by The
Writer's Almanac.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="color: #333333; font-family: Georgia; font-size: 8pt; font-weight: bold; line-height: 12pt;">Why this one?</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="color: #333333; font-family: Georgia; font-size: 8pt; font-weight: bold; line-height: 12pt;">Because the way that Marquez pursued learning
writing is a marvelous study of great writers and thinkers.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="color: #333333; font-family: Georgia; font-size: 8pt; font-weight: bold; line-height: 12pt;">For all writers and readers-- Enjoy!</span></div>
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<strong><span style="color: #333333; font-family: Georgia; font-size: 8pt;"></span></strong><strong><span style="color: #333333; font-family: Georgia; font-size: 8pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 5;"> </span>*<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>*<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>*<o:p></o:p></span></strong></div>
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<strong><span style="color: #333333; font-family: Georgia; font-size: 8pt;">It's the birthday</span></strong><span style="color: #333333; font-family: Georgia; font-size: 8pt;"> of the Nobel Prize-winning novelist
who said, "I've always been convinced that my true profession is that of
journalist." That's <a href="http://kirjasto.sci.fi/marquez.htm?elq=e70ae0fb9aab478aada2bc2719fbfa5e&elqCampaignId=11813&elqaid=14042&elqat=1&elqTrackId=f6ed6084255144cbb4937f936908f2d7" target="_blank" title="http://kirjasto.sci.fi/marquez.htm?elq=e70ae0fb9aab478aada2bc2719fbfa5e&elqCampaignId=11813&elqaid=14042&elqat=1&elqTrackId=f6ed6084255144cbb4937f936908f2d7"><strong><span style="font-family: Georgia;"><span style="color: #7a0b0d;">Gabriel García Márquez</span></span></strong></a> (<a href="http://www.amazon.com/gp/search?ie=UTF8&keywords=Gabriel%20Garcia%20Marquez&tag=writal-20&index=blended&linkCode=ur2&camp=1789&creative=9325&elq=e70ae0fb9aab478aada2bc2719fbfa5e&elqCampaignId=11813&elqaid=14042&elqat=1&elqTrackId=1bd372008f474dbe932a51e48d1ad1c9" target="_blank" title="http://www.amazon.com/gp/search?ie=UTF8&keywords=Gabriel Garcia Marquez&tag=writal-20&index=blended&linkCode=ur2&camp=1789&creative=9325&elq=e70ae0fb9aab478aada2bc2719fbfa5e&elqCampaignId=11813&elqaid=14042&elqat=1&elqTrackId=1bd372008f474dbe932a51e48d1ad"><span style="color: #7a0b0d;">books
by this author</span></a>), born in Aracataca, Colombia, on this day in 1927. He's the
author of one of the most important books in Latin American literature, <em><span style="font-family: Georgia;">One Hundred Years of Solitude</span></em> (1967).<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #333333; font-family: Georgia; font-size: 8pt;">He once said, "I learned a lot from James Joyce and Erskine
Caldwell and of course from Hemingway ... [but the] tricks you need to
transform something which appears fantastic, unbelievable, into something
plausible, credible, those I learned from journalism. The key is to tell it
straight. It is done by reporters and by country folk.''<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #333333; font-family: Georgia; font-size: 8pt;">He worked for a newspaper in Bogotá for many years, writing at
least three stories a week, as well as movie reviews and several editorial
notes each week. Then, when everyone had gone home for the day, he would stay
in the newsroom and write his fiction. He said, "I liked the noise of the
Linotype machines, which sounded like rain. If they stopped, and I was left in
silence, I wouldn't be able to work."<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #333333; font-family: Georgia; font-size: 8pt;">He learned to write short stories first from Kafka, and later
from the American Lost Generation. He said that the first line of Kafka's <em><span style="font-family: Georgia;">Metamorphosis</span></em> "almost knocked
[him] off the bed," he was so surprised. In one interview, he quoted the
first line ("As Gregor Samsa awoke that morning from uneasy dreams, he
found himself transformed into a gigantic insect") and told the
interviewer, "When I read the line, I thought to myself that I didn't know
anyone was allowed to write things like that. If I had known, I would have
started writing a long time ago. So I immediately started writing short
stories."<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #333333; font-family: Georgia; font-size: 8pt;">It was from James Joyce and Virginia Woolf that he learned to
write interior monologue, he said, and he prefers the way Woolf did it.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #333333; font-family: Georgia; font-size: 8pt;">And it was from William Faulkner, he said, that he learned to
write about his childhood surroundings. Just after college, he went home to his
early childhood <st1:place w:st="on"><st1:placetype w:st="on">village</st1:placetype>
of <st1:placename w:st="on">Aracataca</st1:placename></st1:place>, a place he
hadn't been since he was eight years old. On that trip home, he felt that he
"wasn't really looking at the village, but . experiencing it as if [he]
were reading it." He said: "It was as if everything I saw had already
been written, and all I had to do was sit down and copy what was there and what
I was just reading. For all practical purposes everything had evolved into
literature: the houses, the people, and the memories." And he said:
"The atmosphere, the decadence, the heat in the village were roughly the
same as what I had felt in Faulkner. . I had simply found the material that had
to be dealt with in the same way that Faulkner had treated similar
material." His birth town, Aracataca, is the model for the fictional
village Macondo in<em><span style="font-family: Georgia;"> One Hundred Years of
Solitude</span></em>.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<div style="line-height: 12pt;">
<span style="color: #333333; font-family: Georgia; font-size: 8pt;">It was from his own grandmother that he learned the tone he used
in <em><span style="font-family: Georgia;">One Hundred Years</span></em>. His
grandmother told stories, he said, "that sounded supernatural and
fantastic, but she told them with complete naturalness . what was most important
was the expression she had on her face. She did not change her expression at
all when telling her stories and everyone was surprised."<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<div style="line-height: 12pt;">
<span style="color: #333333; font-family: Georgia; font-size: 8pt;">For a long time, he had tried telling the fantastic stories of <em><span style="font-family: Georgia;">One Hundred Years</span></em> without believing in
them. He said, "I discovered that what I had to do was believe in them
myself and write them with the same expression with which my grandmother told
them: with a brick face." And he said, "When I finally discovered the
tone I had to use, I sat down for eighteen months and worked every day."<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: 12pt;">
<em><span style="color: #333333; font-family: Georgia; font-size: 8pt;">One Hundred Years of Solitude</span></em><span style="color: #333333; font-family: Georgia; font-size: 8pt;"> begins, "Many
years later, as he faced the firing squad, Colonel Aureliano Buendía was to
remember that distant afternoon when his father took him to discover ice."<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<div style="line-height: 12pt;">
<span style="color: #333333; font-family: Georgia; font-size: 8pt;">His other novels include of <em><span style="font-family: Georgia;">Love
in the Time of Cholera</span></em> (1988), <em><span style="font-family: Georgia;">The
General in His Labyrinth</span></em> (1989), <em><span style="font-family: Georgia;">Of
Love and Other Demons</span></em> (1994), and <em><span style="font-family: Georgia;">Memories of My Melancholy Whores</span></em> (2005).<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<div style="line-height: 12pt;">
<span style="color: #333333; font-family: Georgia; font-size: 8pt;">He started a journalism school in <st1:country-region w:st="on"><st1:place w:st="on">Colombia</st1:place></st1:country-region> in 1995. He reads most of
the important magazines from around the world each week. He says that he really
only feels comfortable in Spanish, but speaks Italian and French. And he said
in a 1980s interview: "I know English well enough to have poisoned myself
with <em><span style="font-family: Georgia;">Time</span></em> magazine every week
for twenty years." He writes from 9 a.m. to 2 p.m., but says he can only
"work in surroundings that are familiar and have already been warmed up
with my work. I cannot write in hotels or borrowed rooms or on borrowed
typewriters."<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<div style="line-height: 12pt;">
<span style="color: #333333; font-family: Georgia; font-size: 8pt;">He said: "One of the most difficult things is the first
paragraph. I have spent many months on a first paragraph and once I get it, the
rest just comes out very easily. In the first paragraph you solve most of the
problems with your book. The theme is defined, the style, the tone. At least in
my case, the first paragraph is a kind of sample of what the rest of the book
is going to be."<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<div style="line-height: 12pt;">
<span style="color: #333333; font-family: Georgia; font-size: 8pt;">And he said: "Ultimately literature is nothing but
carpentry. Both are very hard work. Writing something is almost as hard as
making a table. With both you are working with reality, a material just as hard
as wood. Both are full of tricks and techniques. Basically very little magic
and a lot of hard work involved."<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: 12pt;">
<span style="color: #333333; font-family: Georgia; font-size: 8pt;">[Note: Gabriel García Márquez quotes are from <a href="http://www.theparisreview.org/interviews/3196/the-art-of-fiction-no-69-gabriel-garcia-marquez?elq=e70ae0fb9aab478aada2bc2719fbfa5e&elqCampaignId=11813&elqaid=14042&elqat=1&elqTrackId=b32ca483abdf4797ad9ee01a8801738d" target="_blank" title="http://www.theparisreview.org/interviews/3196/the-art-of-fiction-no-69-gabriel-garcia-marquez?elq=e70ae0fb9aab478aada2bc2719fbfa5e&elqCampaignId=11813&elqaid=14042&elqat=1&elqTrackId=b32ca483abdf4797ad9ee01a8801738d"><em><span style="font-family: Georgia;"><span style="color: #7a0b0d;">The Paris Review</span></span></em><span style="color: #7a0b0d;"> interview conducted by
Peter H. Stone</span></a>. García Márquez's then-teenage sons translated his answers
into English.]<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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Mary Alice Monroehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03022743509749320592noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8347243279318294019.post-10300095946809988512014-11-24T12:03:00.001-08:002014-11-24T12:03:49.757-08:00A GREAT SOUTHERN BOOK GIVEAWAY<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<i><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><b>"...and the Coast, the seductive and sultry Lowcountry where the sea caresses a vast carpet of swaying marsh grass and warm sandy beaches." </b></span></i></blockquote>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9_FxBainr9HZJfo7KAVzlnaIKrg9RtW9aA1T_CKCEoa7jyg0KdDlswXvR6i8e1Yxx-GHQ7sR0VUxdwggg8KUHArAjSLNhN4q1kF-onXFpJIc-Lq5XDXVsqZtPUMd3isEo5Pom9pSjrCA/s1600/Reflections+of+SC,+Vol2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9_FxBainr9HZJfo7KAVzlnaIKrg9RtW9aA1T_CKCEoa7jyg0KdDlswXvR6i8e1Yxx-GHQ7sR0VUxdwggg8KUHArAjSLNhN4q1kF-onXFpJIc-Lq5XDXVsqZtPUMd3isEo5Pom9pSjrCA/s1600/Reflections+of+SC,+Vol2.jpg" height="200" width="166" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://is.gd/fUHS4q" target="_blank">Win a copy! </a></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
That is an excerpt from "A State of Awe and Wonder," the foreword I penned for <i>Reflections of South Carolina, Volume II. </i>When the director of University of South Carolina Press, Jonathan Haupt, contacted me with this opportunity and I was honored to accept the task.<br />
<br />
<i><a href="http://www.sc.edu/uscpress/books/2014/7393.html" target="_blank">Reflections of South Carolina, Volume II</a></i> is a beautiful work of art. We are so fortunate to have so much of the ancient beauty, historical charm, and alluring culture preserved in 250 pages of sterling photographs and poignant descriptions.<br />
<br />
When you hold this book, you will sense its value and importance. The photographs by renowned photographer Robert C. Clark and descriptions by Tom Poland capture more than landscape, but our state's culture, traditions, and the people. They will will take you on a journey to the Upcountry, the Heartland, and the Lowcountry. Anyone who lives in South Carolina or once called this great state home will treasure this book. And too--anyone who has visited, wants to visit, or just loves all things southern will thoroughly enjoy this book.<br />
<br />
I love how my friend and fellow author Dorothea Benton Frank described the book, "...a gorgeous tour of our state's endless treasured landscape. The words of Tom Poland and the photographs by Robert Clark will thrill you. It's that good."<br />
<br />
I couldn't agree more. I'm giving this book to friends and family for Christmas! And, I'm really excited to share this book with you! Thanks to USC Press, for the holiday season I am giving away five copies of <i>Reflections of South Carolina, Volume II</i> (one copy each week) through my Facebook fan page. To enter the giveaway, simply <b><a href="http://is.gd/fUHS4q" target="_blank">CLICK HERE</a> </b>and follow the instructions. It's easy and I hope you'll share the contest link with your friends! <b><a href="http://is.gd/fUHS4q" target="_blank"> http://is.gd/fUHS4q</a></b><br />
<br />
I'll announce the first winner on November 28th.<br />
<br />
Best wishes and Happy Holidays! I know you'll enjoy the book just as much as I do. <br />
<br />
<br />
<script src="//widget-prime.rafflecopter.com/launch.js"></script>Mary Alice Monroehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03022743509749320592noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8347243279318294019.post-60888855687427735052014-10-30T11:23:00.002-07:002014-10-30T14:45:31.152-07:00DAY OF THE DEAD: A TIME TO REMEMBER<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQ-89heEB3oOxT2O1iwJDC-ea-BtOwBN52k6KNtSj7mwSVyIP47jM3omnQtd_6gUwRtYVMfEGjW3Eh9JjtGzWQMqRyY317JTO4JhWjtpvwEFf6lRk-HY_qnW9NpHx0bI6TWZfaCDv2O_E/s1600/Day+of+Dead+Patzuaro+2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQ-89heEB3oOxT2O1iwJDC-ea-BtOwBN52k6KNtSj7mwSVyIP47jM3omnQtd_6gUwRtYVMfEGjW3Eh9JjtGzWQMqRyY317JTO4JhWjtpvwEFf6lRk-HY_qnW9NpHx0bI6TWZfaCDv2O_E/s1600/Day+of+Dead+Patzuaro+2.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></div>
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<span style="line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Pumpkin
carved? <i>Nope.</i></span></span></div>
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<span style="line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><i><br /></i><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">House
decorated? <i>Oops, forgot that too.</i> <br /><br /><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Candy bowl
loaded and ready? <i>Yes!<br /><br /><o:p></o:p></i></span></span></div>
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<span style="line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I
reluctantly confess that I’m not as clever or elaborate with my Halloween
decorations as I was when my three children were growing up. Yet, somehow I still manage to remember to
buy a bag of candy for the trick-or-treaters in my neighborhood. But who am I kidding? There hasn’t been one child to knock on my
door in the last five years! We all know
who is really eating all that candy...<br /><br /><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Halloween
marks the beginning of the season of family gatherings — Thanksgiving will be
here before we know it and Christmas, well, it has already arrived at the major
retailers! These are times that families gather to create memories.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Memories...
how important they are to help us through both good and bad times. We--each of us--are the caretakers of our
memories. Will we hoard them in dark
recesses of our minds? Or will we dust them off and share them with loved
ones? One holiday that celebrates
memories, and is often overlooked or misunderstood, is Day of the Dead. Widely recognized in <st1:country-region w:st="on"><st1:place w:st="on">Mexico</st1:place></st1:country-region> and
Latin American countries, this is an annual celebration to remember loved ones
who have passed and is observed on November 1<sup>st</sup> and 2<sup>nd</sup>,
concurrently with All Saints’ Day and All Souls’ Day. I was raised Catholic, so All Saints’ Day has
always been a meaningful holiday. In the
<st1:country-region w:st="on"><st1:place w:st="on">United States</st1:place></st1:country-region>,
All Hallow's Eve...Halloween...is the big party day we all celebrate. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 115%;">A few years
ago, when I wrote <i><a href="http://www.maryalicemonroe.com/site/epage/104543_67.htm" target="_blank">The Butterfly’sDaughter</a></i>, I learned more about the meaning and traditions of the Day of the
Dead in the Mexican culture. It includes
building private altars called <i>ofrendas </i>decorated
with bright orange marigolds </span><span style="line-height: 115%;">called cempasùchil (or ‘flower of the dead’) </span><span style="line-height: 115%;">to honor their beloved departed. These <i>ofrendas</i> can include favorite items of
their loved ones—foods, drinks, photos, and other special possessions. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 115%;">I love this tradition of remembering and
honoring those special family members who have passed. Also, in </span><st1:place style="line-height: 115%;" w:st="on"><st1:country-region w:st="on">Mexico</st1:country-region></st1:place><span style="line-height: 115%;"> they believe that the
thousands of monarch butterflies flying through the region to their winter
sanctuary in the mountains this time of year are the souls of their dearly
departed. The traditions and the magnificent migration of the
monarch butterfly that culminate during the Day the Dead festivities are
captured in </span><i style="line-height: 115%;">The Butterfly’s Daughter.</i><span style="line-height: 115%;"> </span></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEKjYsSBPgeCCK8CS7t7m681DJ2NhbOjJhTm_V-Mk4NTWxxB2hwsaacXtZzi__76PV54UKXxJhy0RjWNDHeCrYO1uVXaVYMYkT3SqxWlwEneuFsotsjVm6cQhOvScuPcmtfsJHL9i9fmM/s1600/FullSizeRender.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEKjYsSBPgeCCK8CS7t7m681DJ2NhbOjJhTm_V-Mk4NTWxxB2hwsaacXtZzi__76PV54UKXxJhy0RjWNDHeCrYO1uVXaVYMYkT3SqxWlwEneuFsotsjVm6cQhOvScuPcmtfsJHL9i9fmM/s1600/FullSizeRender.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a><span style="line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> I like to create a simple <i>ofrenda</i> in honor of my parents and my father-in-law. I put their photos up amid bright orange marigolds, a decorated skull plus a few items that they loved and each time I
pass it during the day I think of them.
Again, memories... This, to me,
is the power of The Day of the Dead. We
remember and talk about those who've departed, and by doing so, we keep their
memories alive in our hearts. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; line-height: 115%;">This Halloween, rather than just dress up and eat candy, why not share a meaningful activity with your family? Create an <em>ofrenda</em>. Get the kids involved. Display favorite photos and treasured items of those special family members, light a candle and then invite the family together to hear stories o</span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; line-height: 18.39px;">f </span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; line-height: 18.39px;">your grandmother, grandfather, parents, uncles, aunts. The poignant stories, the funny ones--they all k</span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; line-height: 115%;">eep their memories alive! These are the real treats of this season. </span></div>
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Mary Alice Monroehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03022743509749320592noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8347243279318294019.post-56724478798536047202014-10-13T10:07:00.002-07:002014-10-13T10:07:21.923-07:00A BABY AND A BOOKTwenty nine years ago I was put to bedrest during my pregnancy. I faced several months on my back and I felt trapped, like I'd lost control of my life. My husband gave me a yellow legal pad and pen and told me, "Mary Alice, for as long as I've known you, you have wanted to write a novel but didn't have the time. Now you have the time."<br />
<br />
I wrote and wrote and finished the draft of my first novel. I like to say I gave birth to a baby and a book! <br />
<br />
Now all these years later, that baby, Zack, just had a baby of his own! I'm finishing my twentieth novel and as I gaze at my sweet grandson, I can't help but think how sometimes life does come full circle.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2cB5ZVk_-FnCHHFpWl4UkE4IyfJDt2h_9Oujed85He5qoF8EbMIhEIYf-Lm-BwSgO3uN69kynjxh2TqW78kNtlaRP1mC48QjQrt3yKOokkvbO64WXCVJ1af1malcapRS-7dClHALqNgs/s1600/IMG_4079+(1).JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2cB5ZVk_-FnCHHFpWl4UkE4IyfJDt2h_9Oujed85He5qoF8EbMIhEIYf-Lm-BwSgO3uN69kynjxh2TqW78kNtlaRP1mC48QjQrt3yKOokkvbO64WXCVJ1af1malcapRS-7dClHALqNgs/s1600/IMG_4079+(1).JPG" height="200" width="150" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>My son and his newborn son</i></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Looking back, I learned a precious lesson. Back when I was put to bed I was miserable, thinking that I was facing a horrid obstacle. In fact, it wasn't an obstacle at all. The experience was an opportunity. I learned from this that <em>how </em>we face hardship can change not only our outlook, but the outcome. Each decision we make moves us toward the next, and the next, and the next. <span id="goog_1762869490"></span><br />
<br />
If I hadn't been put to bed rest, I might have lost not only my son, something I can't even think about without a shudder. But I likely would not have finished that first novel that was sold and changed the course of my career and life.<br />
<br />
We are writing the story of our lives day by day. My bed rest experience and giving birth to a baby and a book was an important chapter. Gazing at my sweet Wesley, this one truly has a happy ending! <br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXNpnIFhDPiMFsXPFKSyr80V-ih7IHYCdBB-QzfgFmNL9keEADM9aOvIO81Y3wRBfdv_XtrLn6OYlVfGpHzVJX6FYG43b-8Oo6jxNmPTsbh6WRT1lAUNA_y_m-7dng2HEvjaqyZzOz8l4/s1600/baby+boy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXNpnIFhDPiMFsXPFKSyr80V-ih7IHYCdBB-QzfgFmNL9keEADM9aOvIO81Y3wRBfdv_XtrLn6OYlVfGpHzVJX6FYG43b-8Oo6jxNmPTsbh6WRT1lAUNA_y_m-7dng2HEvjaqyZzOz8l4/s1600/baby+boy.jpg" height="320" width="198" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Meet my new grandson, Wesley!</i></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Mary Alice Monroehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03022743509749320592noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8347243279318294019.post-4808962346854484932014-09-24T05:22:00.000-07:002014-10-13T09:43:00.920-07:00JUST BREATHE!<br />
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It's been a long summer and as I face the summer's end I've begun additional research on dolphins, the focus
animal of the <em>Lowcountry Summer Trilogy</em>. I'm hoping to spark new inspiration as I push through
the end of the storyline, <em>The Summer's End</em>. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Writing is a
lonely, confined, indoor activity.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>For
the past several months I've cut out activities and have been spending way too
much time locked inside while outside my windows the seasons change. <o:p> I feel tense, uneasy, like a balloon about to pop.</o:p></div>
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I miss walking the beach.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I long to go out and stand on the Hunley bridge over Breach Inlet
seeking out dolphins. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I miss my sea
turtles that have left my island on their solitary journeys in the great sea.
My only escape lately is to go out to my butterfly garden.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I rush outside multiple times a day, just long
enough to steal a moment from my computer to search milkweed leaves for monarch
eggs, feed the growing caterpillars and, perhaps, release a newly emerged butterfly
to the garden.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Sometimes I just stand
quietly and watch the sweet new monarch join the other butterflies to dance on
the flowers, feeling the sun on my face.<o:p> </o:p></div>
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Yet, most of the time I'm <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>trapped indoors.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And it has been raining...a lot.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I feel a disconnect with nature--with the
infinite vast and wild that takes my breath away and fills my soul.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Too much confinement makes me feel uneasy and
agitated.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I'm out of sorts.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But... my deadline looms over my head (and I
know y'all want the next book!) so I dutifully persevere.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p> </o:p></div>
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Which brings me to this morning. </div>
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In this grumpy frame of mind, I began prowling my library, digging
through tomes for some new inspiration for this trilogy that is set against the
adorably intelligent and compassionate dolphins.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I didn't know exactly what I was searching
for but knew what I sought would be found in a spiritual realm rather than
factual. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My hand fell on Ted Andrew's
book <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Animal Speak</i>. I paused. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Joseph Campbell stated that artists were the
shamans of today and I believe this is true.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>We must trust our intuition. <o:p> </o:p></div>
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I pulled out this book that is a dictionary of animal
symbolism and the spiritual powers in all creatures, great and small. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>These symbols are sometimes called totems. Since
prehistoric times images have helped us transcend the physical to ascertain the
spiritual.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>To honor nature and to embody
its wisdom in our lives.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Shamans
believed that every species, every aspect of our natural world had the power to
remind us of what we should manifest in our own lives.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They often dressed in animal costume to
elicit the sense of wonder, even magic.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Shamans
performed rituals that were tied into the rhythms of the seasons to bridge the
natural world to the supernatural and offer richer, deeper meaning to their lives.</div>
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I can't say I fully understand how this connection to the
spiritual power of nature works.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I do
believe, however, that one can gain insights into one's life's journey and
purpose by simply paying attention to the powers that surround us in Nature.</div>
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I realize some people think this kind of thinking is just
silly.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Or "woo woo." <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I, too, have second-guessed the messages I've
heard, or ignored my intuition and the instincts that flared in my gut.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Too many times I've regretted not paying
attention to the signals.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Never,
however, have I regretted listening.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
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Over the past twenty five years I've worked with many
different species and I am confident that our connections with nature--both
physical and spiritual--are essential to our well being.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And that they are just as powerful today in
our modern era as they were in ancient times, if we only open our minds and
hearts to what is possible. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We need this
inclusive wisdom, perhaps even more today than ever before.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
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So, this morning I grabbed the book <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Animal Speak</i> for no apparent reason.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Just an intuitive hunch.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I searched for the totem dolphin because I
thought surely the dolphin would be my current messenger.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Here is what the passage said:</div>
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"If dolphin has shown up as a totem, ask yourself some
important questions.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>What are your words
and thoughts creating for you?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>If
unsure, when dolphin arises you will soon discover. Are you getting outside and
enjoying fresh air? Are you holding in tensions? Are others? When dolphin shows
up it is time to breathe some new life into yourself. Get out, play, explore,
and most of all breathe."</div>
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<o:p> Just breathe!</o:p></div>
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I had to smile, even laugh!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I believe this is no mere coincidence.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Yes, I could easily explain it as such.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>But to do so would be to deny the intuitive power that I believe lies
within myself.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And within <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">each of us</i> if we open ourselves to possibility
and listen. </div>
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As Andrews states, "humanity has lost that instinctive
tie to the rhythms and patterns of Nature."<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I wonder if we are so caught up in our
technology that we have lost--even deny and ridicule-- our ancient connection
to the natural world? </div>
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I am listening. Today I will take a long walk in the fresh air. I will find
time to laugh and play.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I will take deep
breaths.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And in the quiet I will open my
mind to creative ideas.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I smile, because
I know the words will flow. </div>
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Mary Alice Monroehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03022743509749320592noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8347243279318294019.post-603051844904270332014-09-12T11:59:00.000-07:002014-09-12T11:59:15.213-07:00THE GIFT OF READING<div style="text-align: center;">
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This past week I had the honor and joy of speaking to thousands
of high school and college students, many of whom had read either SKYWARD or
THE BUTTERFLY'S DAUGHTER for their summer reads program.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Bravo to Principal Rodney Graves at Crest High School in <st1:city w:st="on">Shelby, NC; Principal Jeff Stevens at</st1:city> <st1:city w:st="on"><st1:place w:st="on">Spartanburg High School; Dr. Terry Pruitt of Spartanburg School District 7, SC; and Dr. Colleen Keith at Spartanburg Methodist College</st1:place></st1:city>
and their staff and the entire communities for encouraging strong reading programs!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> Especially the summer reads program that included contemporary books the students selected. </span>Use it or lose it doesn't only apply to the brains of older
folks.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><br />
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The students I talked to were excited about reading. The day I visited Crest High School was the culmination of their summer read program. I walked through the halls while 100 classrooms were filled with students
all talking about books! Does that even happen anymore?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>It was thrilling to witness. At Spartanburg High I was part of a panel with students discussing my books. I sat back in awe and listened to them debate plot and characters with emotion. At Spartanburg Methodist College, a two-year college, I was impressed by the commitment of the faculty and staff to support their students so that 80% of the graduates continue on to a four-year college. An astonishing feat that beats the standard. The faculty and staff of all these institutions are spreading excitement about reading, putting books in students' hands, making reading relevant in their communities.<br />
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Yet, literacy begins at home. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> Encouraging reading is not only the responsibility of our schools. </span>We parents and grandparents model behavior for our children-- and that includes
reading. Many of us r<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">ead to our children when they sat in our laps as toddlers or very young readers. Too often, however, as our children get older we relinquish our role as reading mentor to the teachers.</span><br />
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"></span><br />
I challenge parents,
grandparents, and concerned relatives to read a book that is being read by your child. Then discuss it!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Bring the book discussion to the dinner table.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> Unplug the electronics and turn off the TV. </span>Talk about it in the car. How often do you ask your child, "How was school?"
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And then get the dismissive answer,
"Good." Try asking your child who his/her favorite character was in
the book, or did he agree with the choice the character made, did she like the
ending or what did she think the characters might do after the book ended?<br />
<br />
If we want our children to read, we must read
ourselves. If we want to improve communication with our children and each other, we must create a calm and safe atmosphere that encourages discussion. As parents, we must listen to and respect our child's opinion, even if--<em>especially if--</em>it differs from our own. My son and I have polar opposite political opinions. But I love that he feels he can share his ideas and thoughts with us. Books that are read together can be a great jumping off point for discussions. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You'll be amazed, as I was this past week, by some of the
strong voices and opinions you will hear!<br />
<br />
High school and college are golden years. A time of self discovery and dreams. Of finding one's own voice. Give a child a book and you give him or her the keys to his imagination. Jacqueline Kennedy Onassis said,<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<i><b>"There are many little ways to enlarge your child's world. Love of books is the best of all."</b></i></blockquote>
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Mary Alice Monroehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03022743509749320592noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8347243279318294019.post-57943799707001855922014-09-03T11:12:00.000-07:002014-09-03T11:12:26.892-07:00HOW CAN I HELP THE MONARCH BUTTERFLY?<h2 style="text-align: center;">
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<o:p> </o:p>The monarch butterfly is back in the news again. The Center
for Biodiversity is petitioning the federal government to declare the monarch
butterfly an endangered species. An
estimated 90% of the species has been lost over the past two decades.</div>
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Why?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The monarch's migration
is unique to this continent.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>One small,
fragile bug joins millions of others every fall to travel back from the
northern area of North America to their overwintering grounds in the mountains
of central <st1:country-region w:st="on"><st1:place w:st="on">Mexico</st1:place></st1:country-region>.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>That covers a vast amount of land! Then again
in the spring, this same butterfly heads north, as far as <st1:state w:st="on"><st1:place w:st="on">Texas</st1:place></st1:state>, to lay the first generation of eggs
before dying.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Milkweed is the host plant
of the monarch butterfly. This is a critical point.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Different butterflies lay their eggs on
specific families of plants.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It is the
ONLY plant they will lay eggs on, and the only plant the caterpillars will
eat.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>For the monarch butterfly, the host
plant is <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Milkweed.<o:p></o:p></i></div>
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Thus, milkweed in abundance is a necessity for the survival
of monarch butterflies. There are over 100 different types of Asclepius or
milkweed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Different types grown in
different climate zones of the continent.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>It's important to know what native species grows in your area.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Over the past two decades a number of factors
have contributed to wiping out the breeding grounds of the monarch.</div>
<br />
<ol>
<li>Urban sprawl.
Open, weedy fields, especially across the <st1:place w:st="on">Midwest</st1:place>,
have been paved over for development.
Estimated loss of summer breeding ground is the size of <st1:state w:st="on"><st1:place w:st="on">Texas</st1:place></st1:state>. <br /></li>
<li>Genetically modified plants kill adjacent
"weedy" plants. These so
called "weeds" include milkweed.<br /></li>
<li>In <st1:country-region w:st="on"><st1:place w:st="on">Mexico</st1:place></st1:country-region>, continued illegal
plundering of the oyamel forests in the monarch sanctuaries are destroying
habitat. Doing this is like punching
holes in the delicate microclimate in the mountains where the monarchs
overwinter. Recent storms killed
countless monarchs.<br /></li>
<li>Along
the barrier island coast, residents cut back the shrubs (groundsel, sea myrtle)
for a better view. The migrating monarchs depend on these shrubs as they
journey south.</li>
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If you're
like me, when you read facts like this, your heart aches and you want to know
what you can do to help.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Allow me to
make a few suggestions of things we can all do in our own back yard to make a
difference.</div>
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<o:p> </o:p><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>In a
nutshell, remember this:<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><em><b>SPRING<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></b>Plant host Milkweed!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><b>FALL<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span></b>Plant nectar flowers!</em> </div>
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<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>1.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><strong>Plant milkweed</strong>.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>That's the number one thing you can do.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It's an easy plant to grow, needs full
sunlight and that's about it. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The spring
and summer is when the monarchs are laying eggs and increasing the
population.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In the fall, the migrating
monarch goes into diapause, does not mate, and uses its energy to journey south
to <st1:country-region w:st="on"><st1:place w:st="on">Mexico</st1:place></st1:country-region>.</div>
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</span></span></span><!--[endif]--><b><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">seeds</i><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></b>You can buy seeds on line and plant them in
the spring or fall.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In the fall, pods
form on the milkweed. They're just beginning now so it's a good time to harvest
and collect seeds. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I sprinkle them on
tilled soil now and let nature take its course!</div>
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</span></span></span><!--[endif]--><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><b>milkweed
plants</b></i><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You can buy milkweed as
plants at many local nurseries now, as well as online.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Here's what is important to ask: Has the
milkweed been sprayed with pesticides?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>If it has, the plant will kill your caterpillars! If the nursery doesn't
know, it probably has been sprayed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I
wash mine thoroughly in the spring and let it sit out of the garden in pots for
a month before planting it. And I try to only buy milkweed from an organic
source.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Once you have your milkweed
patch established in your garden, the plant should survive and seed additional
plants.</div>
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</span></span></span><!--[endif]-->resources for plants and monarchs:</div>
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<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>a.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><strong>Bring Back the Monarch</strong><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>http://monarchwatch.org/bring-back-the-monarchs/resources/plant-seed-suppliers</div>
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<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>b.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><strong>Live Monarch</strong>: I love this site. Great for
getting seeds, plants, supplies!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>http://www.livemonarch.com/free-milkweed-seeds.htm<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
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<o:p> </o:p><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>c.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><strong>Learner.org</strong> <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A major
source of information <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>for butterfly
lovers. Great reports on monarch migration. http://www.learner.org/jnorth/tm/monarch/indexCurrent.html</div>
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</span></span></span><!--[endif]--><strong><span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; color: black; font-family: Arial;"><span style="background-color: white;">The three rules for all milkweed: 1. DO NOT EAT </span><span style="background-color: white;"> </span><span style="background-color: white;">2.DO NOT GET SAP ON SKIN OR IN EYES. 3.
EDUCATE AND PROTECT OTHERS FROM #1 & 2.</span></span></strong><br />
<span style="text-indent: -0.25in;"><br /></span>
<span style="text-indent: -0.25in;">I
hate it when milkweed is referred to as a "weed." </span><span style="text-indent: -0.25in;">I find it quite pretty!</span><span style="text-indent: -0.25in;"> </span><span style="text-indent: -0.25in;">I plant milkweed directly in my
"nectar" show garden.</span><span style="text-indent: -0.25in;"> </span><span style="text-indent: -0.25in;">See how
pretty it looks? Which is the milkweed?</span></div>
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I have a "rear" garden
for host plants that can look raggedy after the caterpillars chew it up.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But that's what its there for! I refer to
this patch as my "host" garden.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>In the early summer I tossed in a few tomatoes, too.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There is milkweed, passion vine (for the Gulf
Fritillary) dill, fennel and parsley (for the swallowtails) rue and paw paw.</div>
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<o:p> </o:p><o:p> </o:p><br />
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<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In my zone I grow turberosa and curassavica "tropical"
milkweed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There is a debate as to
whether the tropical milkweed, a non-native, is interfering with the monarch
migration by providing a milkweed source for butterflies that, simply put,
tricks them to staying and breeding rather than moving south.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I have also heard from local butterfly
experts that late travelers stay in our region through the winter in SC and <st1:state w:st="on"><st1:place w:st="on">Florida</st1:place></st1:state> where the
weather is mild and nectar sources abundant.</div>
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<o:p> </o:p>I strongly support the planting
of native species of milkweed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Here is
an informative article to read to help you make your own decision.</div>
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<a href="http://texasbutterflyranch.com/2013/02/25/tropical-milkweed-to-plant-it-or-not-its-not-a-simple-question/">http://texasbutterflyranch.com/2013/02/25/tropical-milkweed-to-plant-it-or-not-its-not-a-simple-question/</a></div>
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<o:p> </o:p> In my area, a barrier island,
however, we are having difficulty finding suppliers of native milkweed. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Frankly, if I lived in the <st1:place w:st="on">Midwest</st1:place>
I'd plant only native species that would die down naturally in the fall. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Here on Isle of Palms, tropical milkweed grows
abundantly and I've decided to continue planting it to increase the species. I
also cut it back in the winter. </div>
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<o:p> </o:p><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>2.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><strong>Plant Nectar plants</strong>.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Nectar is the food of butterflies.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They need nectar during the breeding season
and the really need it now, as they migrate south.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This one brave butterfly that travels
thousands of miles must reach the sanctuary in <st1:country-region w:st="on"><st1:place w:st="on">Mexico</st1:place></st1:country-region> having <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">gained</i> weight! Yes, gained enough weight to survive the winter
months. </div>
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span><br />
My garden looks sparse by September, just when the monarchs
are racing through searching for food.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Over
the past few years I've planted only those flowers that I know will still be in
bloom in the fall.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My favorites here include:
penta, coneflower, Joe pyeweed, buddleia, sedum, Mexican petunia.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Even still, I'm going to the garden center this
week to buy some "fall stock" for the garden. I'm pumping up the
supply for migrating butterflies and boosting the garden's appearance as well.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Learn what plants butterflies prefer in your
area, especially those that continue blooming through the fall.<br />
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<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>3.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><strong>Don't spray pesticides</strong> in your garden!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>If it kills spiders, ants, etc it will also
kill caterpillars!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I oppose aerial mosquito
spraying, especially during the migrating season. Be aggressive in your own
back yard to not let standing water stay in your birdbaths, planters, etc.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Try some of the fabulous mosquito
"zappers" that use lure to draw the varmints in. There are
alternatives to spraying with pesticides.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Your flower/milkweed garden should be a "no spray" zone.</div>
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<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>4.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Urge your local politicians to support the
petition to put monarchs on the endangered species list.</div>
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<o:p> </o:p> 5. <strong>Raise Monarchs</strong> Finally, if you are really interested, and you want to share
your passion with your children, try raising monarchs!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>If I can do it, so can you!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
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It's not hard, but it does require daily
diligence AND a big supply of milkweed--estimated one plant per
caterpillar.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I wrote a children's book-- A
BUTTERFLY CALLED HOPE with gorgeous photographs by Barbara Bergwerf to help you
see what you should do to raise monarchs.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> I find actually "seeing" the process is both educational and a relief.
</span>For more detailed information (which you will want) I highly recommend getting
MY MONARCH JOURNAL by Connie Muther.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Also online, go to www.monarchwatch.com<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>for an excellent resource on rearing monarchs and all things monarch. </div>
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Currently in my "nursery" I have 60 caterpillars
chomping away! I have a number of swallowtails too.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I'm spending long hours every day alone in my
office, finishing a novel. It's exhausting work.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Many times a day I take a break to go
downstairs to the garden, with Buster and Maggie trotting faithfully behind me,
to check on the nursery.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I replenish
food supply then go out to the milkweed to scout for eggs.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I find some every day! This brief connection
to nature nourishes my creative self.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I
feel an "ahhh" outdoors with the butterflies that is instant
gratification in my own back yard.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>After
my break I go back upstairs to work once more on my novel, my batteries recharged.</div>
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The nursery will continue to grow as more eggs hatch into
caterpillars.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I can only raise as many
as I have milkweed to feed them.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>When
the milkweed is gone I must let nature take its course.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But next spring I will plant still more
milkweed, and more the following year and share seeds with friends so they will
plant milkweed, too.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
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<o:p> </o:p>If you plant it--they will come!</div>
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Mary Alice Monroehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03022743509749320592noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8347243279318294019.post-53761607869275248332014-09-02T11:51:00.002-07:002014-09-03T16:35:40.862-07:00FOR THE LOVE OF BOOK CLUBS<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Since fall is the time many book clubs start gathering again, this is a perfect time to launch a giveaway for book clubs! You--and your book club--get a chance to win autographed books on my Facebook Author page to celebrate book clubs everywhere. Each contest spotlights a different book!</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">First up for giveaway--THE BOOK CLUB (appropriate, eh?). Re-released with a beautiful new cover. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">This novel was inspired by book clubs I've been in. Each club is different. Some are academic with presentations on author and/or book. Some are more social where the conversation quickly moves from book to the personal. I believe a good book sparks conversations that can be revealing, inspiring, and thought provoking. Plus, there's always good food, great wine and lots of laughs--good for the body, mind and soul. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Which kind of book club do you have? Why do you love it? I look forward to reading more about your book club!</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><b style="background-color: yellow;">Here's how to enter: </b> Click on the GIVEAWAY tab on my <a href="http://tinyurl.com/pu9sph4" target="_blank">Facebook Author page</a> </span><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">located under the cover photo. </span><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">The direct link is below. And answer this one question:</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /> <i>Why is your book club special to you?</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">It's that easy! Winner will receive an autographed copy of THE BOOK CLUB for members of the club (maximum 12), bookmarks, and an opportunity to schedule a video or phone chat during a future book club meeting. If you're not in a book club, why not call your friends and family to form one? Books are best when shared. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Winner of THE BOOK CLUB will be announced on Monday, September 15th.!</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="background-color: yellow; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><b>Here's the direct link to the giveaway:</b></span><br />
<a href="http://tinyurl.com/pu9sph4" target="_blank"><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-size: 16.363636016845703px;"> </span><span style="color: #1155cc; font-size: small;"><span style="background-color: white;">http://tinyurl.com/</span></span><wbr></wbr><span style="color: #1155cc; font-size: small;"><span style="background-color: white;">pu9sph4</span></span></a><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">For the love of book clubs everywhere, I'll have more book giveaways with different titles in the coming days. THE SUMMER GIRLS will be the next prize. So</span><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> keep checking in. </span><br />
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Mary Alice Monroehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03022743509749320592noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8347243279318294019.post-67458310006344204742014-08-28T04:00:00.000-07:002014-08-28T04:00:00.586-07:00IN REMEMBRANCE...Our local writing community lost one of our own
recently. Margot Theis Raven had a gift
of crafting stories that preserved the beauty of the past in a way that both
educated and captivated readers.<br />
<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhO8J09Yy4jgzNWLvURf9CtIkwfmYY2zPlwMhtqu0hwBWTnhVTL3oO1kpAnASblT6i90YuIKAJDZQMmQl3L0hv7qL7dZYX7llmWeZXnyRO942wzziWIIVFBL5axlmiuzsjyw3IlXLx6pMs/s1600/Margot+Raven.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhO8J09Yy4jgzNWLvURf9CtIkwfmYY2zPlwMhtqu0hwBWTnhVTL3oO1kpAnASblT6i90YuIKAJDZQMmQl3L0hv7qL7dZYX7llmWeZXnyRO942wzziWIIVFBL5axlmiuzsjyw3IlXLx6pMs/s1600/Margot+Raven.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><h3>
<b><a href="http://www.legacy.com/obituaries/charleston/obituary.aspx?n=margot-theis-raven&pid=172137501&fhid=23133" target="_blank">Margot Theis Raven</a></b></h3>
1950 - 2014</td></tr>
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Margot was an award-winning author, and also a talented painter, who told others that she didn’t write children’s books, but rather she wrote
historical fiction in the form of a children’s picture book. If you’ve ever read one of her books then you
would agree.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBCUYUSO47-zQZz-PC88gZdscv-udKbt7bVNAZmrtI01BOp-0Sr3nidWkMWLkNjaIVQ25_QYmRBAenQ76SuXuiyPkPjfYyoahBR0Ueli1nQ2b1Xq0olUuJLtVIfYybjwRSg4QX961Njjo/s1600/Circle+Cover.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBCUYUSO47-zQZz-PC88gZdscv-udKbt7bVNAZmrtI01BOp-0Sr3nidWkMWLkNjaIVQ25_QYmRBAenQ76SuXuiyPkPjfYyoahBR0Ueli1nQ2b1Xq0olUuJLtVIfYybjwRSg4QX961Njjo/s1600/Circle+Cover.jpg" height="200" width="176" /></a>My personal favorite, <i><a href="http://www.margotraven.com/Pages/books3.aspx" target="_blank">Circle Unbroken</a></i>, paid homage to the
prized art form of sweetgrass basketweaving here in the Lowcountry of South
Carolina. Raven’s words are lyrical, her
stories are emotional, and her work is inspiring. </div>
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<o:p></o:p></div>
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Her beautiful life was cut short by the ugly and cruel reality
of breast cancer. It hurt to hear the
news. I knew about her battle, but I had
hoped she would pull through and join the growing list of survivors. I envisioned her becoming one of the many
women I met several years ago, when writing <i>Time
is a River</i>, at a <a href="http://castingforrecovery.org/" target="_blank">Casting for Recovery</a> retreat in the mountains of North
Carolina. Gathered at a riverbank just
outside of Asheville, breast cancer survivors in all stages of treatment and
recovery learned the therapeutic sport of fly fishing through this free retreat. In that cold, mountain water, they shared their stories, their worries, and their support as they re-connected with nature and healed from their battle scars. I had hoped the same for my friend Margot. <o:p></o:p></div>
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Margot’s death painfully reminds me though that the road is long in
the fight to end breast cancer. On her
<a href="http://www.margotraven.com/Pages/happybirthday.aspx" target="_blank">website</a>, Margot has a quote posted by Patty S. Hill which states, “The world
moves forward on the footsteps of little children.” <o:p></o:p></div>
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How true that is.
Margot left this world far too soon, but she left us with treasures. Every time someone turns a page in one of her
books, a little bit of herself lives on--moves forward--through young readers
and those young at heart. </div>
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Thank you, Margot, for sharing your gifts with us. </div>
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<o:p></o:p></div>
Mary Alice Monroehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03022743509749320592noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8347243279318294019.post-56005884880710821812014-08-26T02:40:00.000-07:002014-08-27T10:57:02.085-07:00MY SUMMER CRUSH<h2 class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: blue;">GUEST BLOG</span></h2>
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<em><span style="color: blue;"><a href="http://www.kerryreichs.com/" target="_blank">Kerry E. Reichs</a></span></em></h2>
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<br />
I’ve had my share of crushes before, but it was only this
year that my heart was stolen so completely that I became a stalker.
It was the adorable occupants of 3A. I couldn’t stop
thinking about them. I found excuses to cruise by their place
every morning and every evening. I scrutinized the minutiae of
their existence. Had anything changed since yesterday?
Had they had any visitors? Who were these other women hanging around?</div>
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No, 3A wasn’t an apartment of virile young men.
It was a loggerhead sea turtle nest located on Isle of Palms beach
between third and fourth streets, and I was in love. I’d been
floating on the fringes of Charleston’s “turtle society” for two years,
introduced by friend and fellow writer Mary Alice Monroe. I arose
at the crack of dawn to attend every inventory, my sleepy son in tow.
I met the wonderful turtle team, formidable wielders of the Red Bucket,
whose dedication and passion for these creatures is selfless. And
most of all, I fell in love with the turtles. There is nothing
more adorable than a hatchling sea turtle; nothing more inspiring than its
determined trek across a fraught beach; nothing more heartening than the moment
they catch a wave.</div>
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I loved every encounter, but I craved the zenith of turtle
monitoring. I wanted the boil – hatchlings pouring out of a nest like a pot
bubbling over. Then along came 3A. A convenient
ten-minute walk down the beach from my house, this became MY nest. I’d find
excuses to wander by (“It rained a drop . . . better check the nest!”). I sent
unsolicited “updates” and photos to team members. I pestered them
about the schedule. One day, my stalking was rewarded.
The sand showed the first signs of emergence, kicking off a series of
evenings camped beside the nest.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTE1u1hv6YPbdXVF0JdK8HB9GTs15ubnOPrQny_uEsmj8qXoinRFgy8CTfNvfV-f1cm7bgEZONUpQ6AJGBN1WUkKVYkz9Lmw9wcPO7V8BuOKLWI1-zhoCcL6H3oY1c-X2I_dI4FIObchY/s1600/ghost+crab+nest.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTE1u1hv6YPbdXVF0JdK8HB9GTs15ubnOPrQny_uEsmj8qXoinRFgy8CTfNvfV-f1cm7bgEZONUpQ6AJGBN1WUkKVYkz9Lmw9wcPO7V8BuOKLWI1-zhoCcL6H3oY1c-X2I_dI4FIObchY/s1600/ghost+crab+nest.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></div>
(ghost crab predation!)<br />
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The team indulged me.
The first few nights, nothing. Then a handful. </div>
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Then came Friday.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2XSbf1ftmWD3Bgn5PJVNBnufjEHsNBFE3x0XAcS0NpGDw08yMP7BCg3EzPOd-ESXu5SDNYM8F79TnmG0ezkbq0mQrviFJUUtDWbG0Rf6wBawDYpLNqSJwmWV2PVHwyWUhwJRjQN38_LQ/s1600/kerry+mama+patti.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2XSbf1ftmWD3Bgn5PJVNBnufjEHsNBFE3x0XAcS0NpGDw08yMP7BCg3EzPOd-ESXu5SDNYM8F79TnmG0ezkbq0mQrviFJUUtDWbG0Rf6wBawDYpLNqSJwmWV2PVHwyWUhwJRjQN38_LQ/s1600/kerry+mama+patti.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
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This was the night. I was sure of it.
I was provisioned like Lewis and Clark: I had my four year old, his DVD
player, a beach blanket, chairs, bug spray, snacks, kindle, water.
I was there for the long haul. I sat in the company of the
team, chatting merrily. So much that we were startled to see a turtle crawling
by. We hopped to action, shepherding seven “scouts” safely to the
sea. The sun had just set. After that, stillness.
Indications of emergence ceased. All the hot action was
going down on Sullivan’s, a nest poised to go. 3A was a
sleeper. The rest of the team headed home or to Sullivan’s. There
would be no action here tonight. I decided to keep company with my
nest a little longer, popped a new DVD on for my son, and settled into my
kindle. At 11:30, I flashed the red light over at the nest,
intending to gather my things. And saw the hole. Which became a
diminutive turtle head. Then two. Then three. Small
beaks poking from the sand. Waiting. </div>
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I grabbed my son and we watched the magic happen, just the
two of us. Under the remnants of a supermoon, we saw a tiny army assembling
under the sand. Finally, the leader crested, and turtles poured from the nest in
his wake, wave after wave. It was enchanting. We
were breathless when the flow stopped, then raced down the beach with the light
to play false moon, luring the hatchlings to the sea. I was a
proud mama when the last dove out of sight.</div>
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I didn’t think it could get more magical than that, but I was
wrong. Friday had been a “half boil” of about sixty, with another
sixty eggs remaining. The team continued to monitor the nest, none so zealous as
I. The next day I popped up at 6AM to scrutinize the sand;
loitered at sunset; and returned around midnight, prime turtle “boiling
point”. And repeat, the following day. And
repeat. For three days, I sat on that nest like I’d laid the eggs
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It was an unusual nest. Turtles ventured out in
small clutches. The team fretted. I hovered. Sunday
night – turtles on the beach. We all raced at the 911 call, but it
was a troop of only eight. Monday no action was expected, but a
humdinger of a storm. I was stuck on a call with Comcast.
Knowing I’d be on hold forever, I trotted down to the nest, phone pressed
to my ear, wind whipping. Team members were in situ.
The signs were there. Comcast became unimportant. I dropped
to the beach, and chatted. Lightening danced across the sky to the west.
Our time on the beach would be abridged. We were debating
how much, when I saw shadows on the sand. An endearing mini-mob of loggerheads
crowding out of the nest. The last wave. By this night, the tide was miles away,
so we gathered our new friends into the trademark Red Bucket.</div>
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The turtles were three-deep, teeming to go.
When the last was collected, they passed the bucket to me.
I, team newbie, was handed the Red Bucket. It was a
reverent moment. We hastened to the water’s edge, where I
carefully released my charges. I was proud and relieved as each
dove into the next phase of its journey.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbl891iCjKxRmRtv8kZI3NqS4mJd5qvAH9jNJZ7qu4aGBU5nXsxDnmjysIeIZKgyQN61z6MSbIWu-ExfBerso74BvcNiicDphDcJlotaarRG7DkD4y6wMZW250BFaj5F-nvqaCED0hlEY/s1600/kerry+nest.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbl891iCjKxRmRtv8kZI3NqS4mJd5qvAH9jNJZ7qu4aGBU5nXsxDnmjysIeIZKgyQN61z6MSbIWu-ExfBerso74BvcNiicDphDcJlotaarRG7DkD4y6wMZW250BFaj5F-nvqaCED0hlEY/s1600/kerry+nest.jpg" height="256" width="320" /></a></div>
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The next morning at inventory, the team recovered a
dawdler. My son and I gathered with the usual crowd to bid our
last ward farewell. The lone occupant of 3A scrambled toward the
ocean, turning at the waterline to crawl over my son’s foot in farewell, before
disappearing with a flap of his flipper. </div>
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It was bittersweet as the little guy disappeared from
sight. Tomorrow I’ll find another nest to fuss over, but for now
there’s a little hole where 3A used to be. I’ll always remember my first.
See you in thirty years, my friends. After this taste of being on the
Turtle Team, I know I’ll be here waiting for you.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnYp-sIdGVFwOTrNdQWzEGSj-3Tdjxmcp5QUMq-pG-VyrvYoP0dafZlikYEpMT0fdgLa2EMT81XNQ0c6QnnyOfedwR26BjtWjIwo0EnS8vdBlobAdIHTo5sql2XMMGOQURH2H3No8nERE/s1600/declan+2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnYp-sIdGVFwOTrNdQWzEGSj-3Tdjxmcp5QUMq-pG-VyrvYoP0dafZlikYEpMT0fdgLa2EMT81XNQ0c6QnnyOfedwR26BjtWjIwo0EnS8vdBlobAdIHTo5sql2XMMGOQURH2H3No8nERE/s1600/declan+2.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbrhdGk-RDJ-0TTowLyt7_3n6cId2hnEDXJC9rvTuQOX5vcLCulhOhmuGnZ0uYvkAIJOIohnBf0ueJHoHYvG-3q_2Mek4Yfd2i0oGZ40mvjv3WQ8I3jdQfsJyvYyIaa7WcK7KUQvB_7KA/s1600/declan+1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbrhdGk-RDJ-0TTowLyt7_3n6cId2hnEDXJC9rvTuQOX5vcLCulhOhmuGnZ0uYvkAIJOIohnBf0ueJHoHYvG-3q_2Mek4Yfd2i0oGZ40mvjv3WQ8I3jdQfsJyvYyIaa7WcK7KUQvB_7KA/s1600/declan+1.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a>Mary Alice Monroehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03022743509749320592noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8347243279318294019.post-20767648722064650382014-08-06T06:15:00.000-07:002014-08-09T03:16:34.313-07:00Dolphins, Sunset and Miracles...<div class="text_exposed_root text_exposed">
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<span class="userContent" data-ft="{"tn":"K"}">I had probably the best dolphin viewing of my life yesterday. I've been writing hard and at the day's end I needed to get some fresh air. I took a very willing Buster and Maggie for a walk to our favorite spot-- the bridge at Breach Inlet. Had a feeling I'd see the dolphins. They often feed in that churning water when the sun lowers.<br /><br /> The sky last night was magnificent. As I reached the top of th<span class="text_exposed_show">e Hunley bridge a single, large black cloud hovered over the distant water like a great ship. Beneath it, rays of the day's last light poured out on the water. But where the Ravenel Bridge stood strong against the horizon, the sky opened up to golden light. Three dolphins were cavorting in Breach Inlet. After a few minutes, two dolphins swam across the water right under where I stood. Humans can be such vain creatures. I like to think the dolphins came directly to me, but I know that is merely wishful thinking. Buster put his paws high on the railing so he, too, could watch the dolphins below. I was happy, but didn't know what was about to happen...<br /><br /> On the small patch of beach below the bridge a father and son were surf fishing. Farther away, closer to The Boat House, four young children played. The dolphins drew very near them along the shore, to their utter delight. Curious, I walked closer toward them, enjoying the sight.<br /><br /> When, to my wonder and surprise, I saw what appeared to be a big wave hurtling toward the beach right in front of the children. That was no wave! Three dolphins pushed fish onto shore, beaching themselves as they snapped up fish. It all happened so fast! The children were leaping in excitement! Fish were flying! I laughed out loud! I'd never seen a "strand feeding" here at Breach Inlet, and never in front of humans. Such bold dolphins. They repeated the effort twice more to the cheers of diners at the restaurant. <br /><br /> The skyline deepened, turning the water that signature lavender and silver that shines iridescent and elicits sighs from those of us lucky to see it. The dolphins arched and dined a short while longer, then disappeared. People along the bridge put their cameras away and returned to their cars. The children on the beach continued to stare out with the hope of youth. <br /><br /> I tugged the leash for Maggie and Buster to begin our short walk home. As the sun set, I wondered if all those folks realized how lucky they were to have witnessed that amazing spectacle. It's rare. As I walked, I said prayers of thanks all the way home for the gift of the dolphins, the beautiful sunset, and for living in the lowcountry.</span></span></div>
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Mary Alice Monroehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03022743509749320592noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8347243279318294019.post-3336888635683011542014-07-29T08:00:00.000-07:002014-07-29T08:00:05.540-07:00Adventure Awaits Just Beyond CharlestonTourist season is full-throttle here in Charleston, South Carolina. When friends or family come to visit, the familiar<i> what to do, where to eat </i>questions arise. Isn't it what we all want to know when we're visiting somewhere?<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjJXz0f_a99c2zslzgJ2sULvJWogEeVDwAgh3szZB26Ke1v85QqHP9O-1LlPsnfpDpCVxr8FC7OPH2eb6q7WJh1TwWlum2oSBZ3CTqQTqjAo4QYFBpscim2dhC9Kqa0IhyphenhyphenO-HAnE5w3mI/s1600/map_of_summerville_sc.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjJXz0f_a99c2zslzgJ2sULvJWogEeVDwAgh3szZB26Ke1v85QqHP9O-1LlPsnfpDpCVxr8FC7OPH2eb6q7WJh1TwWlum2oSBZ3CTqQTqjAo4QYFBpscim2dhC9Kqa0IhyphenhyphenO-HAnE5w3mI/s1600/map_of_summerville_sc.jpg" height="219" width="320" /></a></div>
I recently had the opportunity to contribute to <a href="http://travelerofcharleston.com/" target="_blank">Traveler of Charleston Magazine</a>'s blog. Instead of highlighting the usual hot spots in the Charleston area, I focused on a gem located not far from city limits. Said to be the birthplace of sweet tea, the charming, historic town of Summerville is special to my <i>Lowcountry Summer Trilogy </i>and my new novel <a href="http://www.maryalicemonroe.com/summer-wind/" target="_blank">THE SUMMER WIND</a><i>. </i><br />
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<b><a href="http://travelerofcharleston.com/blog/summerville-adventure-awaits-just-beyond-charleston/" target="_blank">Click here</a></b> to read my guest post highlighting why it's a perfect day-trip adventure for anyone visiting the Holy City. Thank you, Traveler of Charleston! And make sure to sign up for a free subscription to the visitor magazine. What are your favorite gems outside of the city of Charleston? <br />
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<b><a href="http://travelerofcharleston.com/blog/summerville-adventure-awaits-just-beyond-charleston/" target="_blank">Summerville: Adventure Awaits Just Beyond Charleston</a></b>Mary Alice Monroehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03022743509749320592noreply@blogger.com0