Learn the process indie author Amanda Aksel went through in getting her novel Delia Suits Up traditionally published, including questions she asked herself and weighing one strategy against the other.
Source: How I Broke Into the Traditional Publishing World as an Indie Author – Writer’s Digest
AN IMPROVISED LIFE
By Charles Robert Lindholm 2-17-2017 at 4:30 a.m.
An improvised life
no following footsteps
like the rest of us
it’s not what we’ve heard
professed to us
A high wire act
meant to thrill you
so daring and bold
it might kill you Continue reading
A Poem by Coyote Poetry
Best days of a life. When love is being born. 
Sanctuaries of the sweet kiss and embrace…..
My beautiful enchantress. It is a moonless night.
The gentle lights of the soft candles allowed my eyes to be entrapped
in the view of your womanly curves.
You entice me with a smile and a whisper “Come near my Johnnie.”
You watch my face blush overwhelm by the sacred sight of a amourous maiden.
I hesitate knowing to harvest the vision of tender feet, long legs, soft breast and beautiful face.
Your laughing eyes blue eyes make me smile. A woman know to make a man wait. A wise man
know to seize the moment.
To ensure to travel the soft and tender skin of a maiden slow and easy. Learning and knowing every curve and mark…
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A Poem by Coyote PoetryA old poem with a rewrite from 1992. I found a book with loads of unpublished poetry. From 20 years ago. I was free and mad. I wish I had some of the madness today.
The blue eyed girl….
“When you got nothing to lose.
Can’t fall too far my friends.”
I told a group of Poets outside the Monterey book store.
A blue eyed girl with hair of auburn stood her ground.
Told me. Ain’t over till the Devil open the door to hell for you.
She took my hand and we wandered to the wine and beer store.
Bought some good Canadian beer and whiskey.
She was dressed in a long colorful summer dress. Allowing her tan shoulders
to be seen and appreciated.
She looked into my eyes and whispered. The night is long. The star are bright. Time…
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A Poem by Coyote PoetryA wise man accept responsibility for his actions.
Broken promises and lost places…
I remembered we had dreams of being barefoot in wildflowers fields and love was to be forever.
I could sit and gaze at you for hours. Watch you plant your herbal garden.
I loved seeing the pride in your eyes when life was born out of dirt and hard work.
We would lay nude on our soft bed surrounded by thick blankets till late afternoons on Saturday and Sunday.
We tried to keep the world at bay.
You told me I was your savior and you were my princess.
I would write poetry and story by the small lake. You would study and peek at my words.
I remember your questions. “Johnnie, what are the paradox of being alive. Are we just wasting air and…
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A Poem by Coyote PoetryFirst love, first real kiss and the first true words of love become mystical places where we can find in sweet dreams forever.
Mystical places…..
Many types of keepsakes my friend.
There are tattoos upon skin to remind us of places, wars and faces.
There are scars from battles won and lost.
Then there is sweet faces of woman we had loved and held.
Whiskey, gin and rum can make us forget for a time.
But those kind memories where beautiful woman laid naken in sheet of silk and cotton.
Waiting for you with welcoming smiles.
When men fall into the softness of the bosom of the kind woman.
The mystical place of the tender skin, sweet kisses and warm places. Leave the man yearning for more.
Adoring glances lead to places of splendor.
True lover dance many slow dances and…
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The Reluctant Poet 