On Another Morn
By: Maddy D.
​
[A note: This is based on Ötzi the Iceman, the wonderfully preserved 5,300-year-old mummy found in a glacier some years back. This is meant to be read as more poetic in verse.] 
 
And we will sit there and watch the threads of dawn weave their way across the sky. Just sit there, you and I. You with your glazed wonder, and I with all my questions, we’ll greet the same morn. You’ll be cold, I know you will. You’ll be full of unanswered questions and broken words. I’ll be the selfish one. I’ll be the one that speaks; I’ll be the one that questions the air and take it away from you. What good is the wonder, when your questions are captured by a different voice? Burning in your still heart, seizing with the blood in your veins, fluttering behind the eyes, the caged bit of soul that never leaves?

So many questions, so many unknowns, what-ifs. What sort of selfish being I am, to steal your breath, like the ground that steals your heat. You don’t need it anymore, you know. The questions, the light, the warmth. You don’t need it anymore. Give it to the sun, give it to the air, give it to the earth. But keep the questions, let me take them, let me set them free to the unending eye of the sun.

Don’t let it fester in your veins, don’t let them settle like a poison froth. There’s no need for that. I can take them, I can speak your tongue, fill in for your heart. Surely when I receive my answers, you will receive yours. It’s the least I can do, my Brother, my kin. Trust me with the words that trembled with your weak breath, trust me to hear the ghost of whispers that leave your frozen lips. Trust me to hear, trust me to seek the truth behind this day.

Trust me with your soul, my brother. Trust me to keep it safe- our little secret. There is no need to haunt me so, no need for your shadow to latch onto mine. No need to stalk me in the nights, wailing like the wind and hissing like the snow. No need when I take nothing of yours, other than your questions, your knowledge, the very essence of the truth.
No need when we sit here, you and I. Sit here as long lost friends once more, this mere accident surely set aside? No need when someday, I pray none too soon, I will be just as cold as you. Broken and severed questions hanging on my lips. But I will have your answers by then, my brother. When we sit here to watch the dawn thread into the sky on another morn.

Edited by: Anna Grace Dulaney 

NEW NONFICTION RELEASE!

Title: On Being Insane: In Search of my Missing Pieces
Author: Elliot Gavin Keenan
Author Website: http://elliot.ink
Publisher Website: dreamingbigpublications.com
Editor-in-Chief: Kristi King-Morgan

Amazon Link:
https://www.amazon.com/dp/1947381024/ref=sr_1_2?ie=UTF8&qid=1508724548&sr=8-2&keywords=on+being+insane+elliot
​
Genre: Nonfiction, Memoir, Mental Health

Available in ebook and paperback, for immediate release


REVIEWERS, BLOGGERS, VLOGGERS:  Email Kristi at dreamingbigpublications@outlook.com to request your electronic review copy today!  Available in MOBI and PDF. We also have a written author interview available upon request. 

FROM THE BACK COVER:
After being diagnosed with Asperger's Disorder at age seven, Elliot becomes fascinated with the Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders (the Bible of American psychiatry) and its enumeration, categorization, and systematization of innate human differences. This specialized knowledge of the DSM's rules and codes comes in handy as Elliot struggles through multiple psychiatric hospitalizations for severe bipolar depression, but his dreams of being a clinical psychologist seem ever further out of reach until a kindly professor and autism scientist termed herein as Dr. Pinball takes notice of his abilities. This is a story of one young man's searching: for sanity, for stability, and for the people who understand. They may be found in unlikely places.

​What Classifies as “Disabled”?
By Nick “Novel” Gabanski
 
 
“You are not disabled enough.”
 
            No one who suffers from any form of disability should ever have to hear or read those words when applying for SSI.  I’m not asking for sympathy or begging for charity with this post.  I merely wish to point out the asininity and thoughtlessness of our government, as I’m sure many are already all too keenly aware of.
            My girlfriend is disabled.  But she does not suffer from one or two disabilities; she suffers from many.  She has a weak immune system, epilepsy, chronic migraines, hip/leg/back injuries, nerve damage, manic depression, PTSD, severe anxiety, paranoid schizophrenia, ADHD, asthma, and deafness in one ear.
            Every single illness, disorder, and disability has been clinically proven by doctors, psychiatrists, and neurologists.  Bearing all this in mind, SSI has deemed it necessary to deny my girlfriend’s appeal for financial aid simply on the grounds of “not being disabled enough.”  I mean, they all but said that in their letter of denial.  As they so blatantly say in the letter,
            “We have determined that your condition is not severe enough to keep you from working.  We considered the medical and other information, your age, education, training, and work experience in determining how your condition affects your ability to work.
            “Although you have little or no work history, your condition allows you to do work that is simple, not stressful, and not physically demanding.  Based on your age, education, and current abilities, you can work.”
            How dare they?
            How is she “not disabled enough”?  People suffering from schizophrenia alone have a hard enough time gaining employment thanks to a negative stigma courtesy of social media and general ignorance people have of what schizophrenia is.  I’m not going to bother going into why each disorder/disability alone should entitle my girlfriend to financial aid.  If I did, this post would be several pages long.
            One other thing I will draw attention to, though, is SSI’s utopic, naïve, and inane concept of jobs for not-disabled-enough people.  Sure, some jobs are simple, for those with full cognitive capacity.  However, no job in existence is “not stressful.”  Every single job in this country is stressful, in one way, shape, or form.  Especially those delightful minimum-wage, entry-level jobs where you work for eight to twelve hours a day or more, performing tasks day after day, that make you hate life and resent humanity.  Now throw someone with severe anxiety, depression, PTSD, etc. into a “simple” and “not-stressful” job and see what happens.  And finally, my absolute favorite type of job of all: not physically demanding.  America, have you seen people in the lower end, in retail stores and supermarkets and warehouses?  Everyone who works these thankless jobs has one thing in common: they’re on their feet for the entirety of their shift.  Because here in America, this sadistic, neglectful, star-spangled chamber pot, if you’re not standing, you’re not working!
            So please, regale me and everyone else getting the short end of the feces-caked stick, how this is a just and fair process of denying a severely disabled young woman from financial aid because she cannot work.  But as I’ve said before, I’m not looking for pity or sympathy.  I know my loved one is not the only one getting screwed in this country, and things could be worse.  But I cannot fathom what kind of person would look over a disabled person’s claim and casually deny the help.  Nor should I have to.  But this is what we live in now.  Make America Great Again.  Peace.
 
Edited by London Koffler

Title: Bright
Author: Mary O Paddock
Published By: Dreaming Big Publications, 2017
Reviewed By: Corinthia
                            
About the Book
 
Hannah Whitfield is tired of living a lie. She's been so caught up in hiding her affair from her husband, Jeff, and her three children that she cannot remember the last time she was honest with anyone, including her lover, Clint. Telling Jeff the truth is the hardest thing she's ever done, but she expects Clint to understand when she ends the affair. After all, he's the one who said "When it's over, it's over." Instead, he spends months stalking and intimidating Hannah. At last, Hannah believes she has finally convinced him to give up, and she and Jeff go camping. But Clint follows, and his actions alter the course of Hannah's destiny forever.
 
Review, Rating 4/5
 
Bright was an interesting surprise. When I first started reading it I assumed that it was going to be a tale of marital forgiveness and spiritual healing. I could have not have been more wrong! Around 40+ pages in the story it took a far darker turn than my initial assumption and nearly gave me whiplash from its change in direction. Balancing delicately on the line of spirituality and the horrific Bright challenged me to look at it with a different set of glasses and put aside any of my previous assumptions before it whisked off and entangled me in its pages.
 
With a mash-up of what I would think would be opposing genres Mary Paddock takes on the challenge and delivers a rare gem for the thriller and spiritual reader. Despite its dark overtone Bright highlights the spiritual weight of past sins and how the only thing keeping us from forgiveness can be us not forgiving ourselves.
 
Overall, I can say that I relatively enjoyed Bright. It was a surprising read and an interesting combination of genre. However, for readers who struggle reading longer books Bright does have areas where the scenes drag and slow down to almost unbearable speeds. Another flaw would be some of its characters, although some are well fleshed some come off as flat and ‘cookie-cutter.’ Despite this Bright is still an enjoyable read for those who want a little bit of spiritual intervention with their thriller.
 
 
About the Author
 
Mary Paddock lives with her family in the Missouri Ozarks. To date, she's written four books, and numerous short stories. Her short work has been published in a variety of venues. Mary's an avid gardener, loves long walks, and good books. In her spare time, she rescues strays, flea market china, and abandoned ideas. 

Wild Spaces by Larissa Banitt
​
In the trunk of my used, gold car
an ottoman purchased on clearance
sits among camping supplies.
Day has receded to the deep blue of twilight,
not quite yielded to night’s velvet fingers.
The first stars are peaking down
despite the lights from the city.
Up on my left, I spot three deer, nibbling
daintily on a manicured lawn,
white tails swishing.
 
How many drivers missed those
small movements and mistook those lithe forms
for three of the plastic mannequins
that dot the tamed lawns of this neighborhood,
the real dismissed for the expected?
 
I slow, crawling by while the deer
attend to the green shoots.
Rolling down the window, the humid
summer air mingles with
the cold, stale air produced
by the air conditioning
and they collide on my skin.
 
When did we start believing that fairy tale
that we could leave Eden?
 
Edited by: Anna Grace Dulaney 

​A Redundant Sign
By Nick “Novel” Gabanski
 
 
 
“Dangerous weapons are strictly prohibited within this building”
 
            This is the sign upon a library with government-sanctioned offices sharing space.  Now, I can understand the need for restriction of such items, especially in today’s society.  However, there’s something terribly wrong with this sign.
            “Dangerous weapons…”
            Well, what exactly is a dangerous weapon?  What makes a weapon dangerous?  Surely, guns and knives immediately rise to mind, but what else constitutes as a “dangerous” weapon?  If they’d said “dangerous objects,” that would make more sense.  Or if they had specifically listed off certain items such as guns, knives, batons, tasers, pepper spray, etc., it would make more sense.  However, they did not do that. They went with the redundant phrase “dangerous weapons”.  Let’s take a minute and exam each word individually.  You know, before we haphazardly slap them together in the same sentence in a half-hearted attempt at emphasis.
            Dangerous: Typically meaning something that could cause harm or damage to oneself or someone else, usually resulting in injury or even death.  Such things labelled as “dangerous” are things we are told to stay away from or not use for our safety.
            Weapon: An object that has been specifically designed for intent/use of injuring, wounding, harming, and even killing another living organism, such as another person.  Such items are typically used in warfare, hunting, or crime.  Some weapons are deemed too dangerous for civilian use and are termed “illegal” to own or possess.
            Do you notice anything with those definitions?  Do you notice how “dangerous” is already incorporated into the “weapon”?  Maybe we should take a different approach to this.  Perhaps examining a few specific items might clarify this issue.  A knife is obviously a weapon.  It carries an edge for cutting, slashing, stabbing, and/or cleaving meat, which we are comprised of.  Granted, not all knives are meant to be weapons.  A kitchen knife isn’t exactly made for combat.  Now let’s look at something not so obvious.  What about a folding-baton?  It’s blunt, has no edge or sharp points upon it, and it certainly doesn’t launch any projectiles that leave a hole in your body.  However, I’d argue a folding-baton can do far more damage than a mere knife.  Knives require accuracy for certain organs, veins, or arteries if your intent is to kill someone.  Even slashing and cutting is target-specific.  Whereas a folding-baton offers you more reach than most knives, and can break bones with one or two hits.  I’ve yet to encounter a knife that can break your arm or skull with one cut.  So which item is more “dangerous?”
            As far as knives are concerned, I always carry a three-inch, non-assisted folding EDC knife.  For those unfamiliar, “non-assist” refers to the lack of a spring in deploying the blade.  It’s supposedly safer because it’s slower than an automatic or spring-assisted knife.  The blade of my knife is non-serrated as well.  Is it a weapon?  Well, since the opening mechanism is my finger and physics, the blade is a measly non-serrated three-inches, and I use it as an every-day carry tool, that’s all it is-- a tool.
            The only dangerous thing here is the brain.  This wonderfully complex organ which grants us the ability to shape the world around us as we see fit and gives us the concept of turning a chair into a crude club when its intended use is for sitting.  The brain is what gives you the power to decide whether to use a knife as a tool or a weapon.  How do you think weapons came to be?  We created them.  We twisted objects’ purposes and intended uses into our desire to spread violence.  So, what is a “dangerous weapon?”
            It’s not a knife or a gun, I’ll tell you that.
 
 
Edited by: Anna Grace Dulaney 

A Romantic’s Take on July 20, 1969 By Larissa Banitt
​
A girl in a cotton dress and cat eye glasses
sits cross legged on the floor,
a copy of Jane Eyre clutched across her chest.
She’s staring at the moon
Through her grainy, rabbit eared television
and thinking of the trope in stories of lovers
torn apart from each other by fate
who look at the moon and find solace
knowing wherever their beloved is,
they have the same moon to look up to.
 
She wonders if the families of the men
On her screen have that same solace now.
Knowing that if they look up to the moon,
Not only will they know their loved ones
Will be looking at it too (between their feet),
But they will be gazing right at them,
though their distance makes the men
smaller than specks of dust.
 
Her parents startle when her book
Thumps on the floor, Her hands
outstretched on the carpet behind her.
They ask if she’s okay; she only nods,
Too embarrassed to say she suddenly felt
Like she had peering into the
Grand Canyon last summer,
As tiny and insignificant as a grain of sand
Next to the expanse of the ocean.
 
She lays in bed that night,
With moonlight casting shadows
across her quilt and decides
That love stories would be much more tragic
If they took place among the stars.
 
 
 
Edited by: Anna Grace Dulaney 

Title: Olivia MacAllister, Who Are You?
Author: Celine Rose Mariotti
Ilustrator: Bob Veon
Reviewed By: Corinthia
 
About the Book
 
Bobby MacAllister and Noel Simpson are cousins, who visit their Uncle Eb in Maine for the summer. There they embark on an adventure to discover the story of their ancestors and the secrets of the ghost, Olivia, who stays in the house.  Together, with family friends and partners from the town, they uncover the truth of a long lost love story.
 
Olivia MacAllister, Who Are You? is a fun fiction chapter book for children aged 7 to 10. Will you be inspired to learn about your ancestors’ past like Bobby and Noel?
 
Review, Rating 3/5
 
Olivia MacAllister, Who Are You? Is an interesting middle grade read that shows a promise of getting kids interested in their own ancestry. The story is told through short chapters that are easy to read, but still hold vocabulary that children and parents can look up together. The plot advances quickly so the chapters are engaging and full of action so there’s never a dull moment in the search for the truth behind Olivia MacAllister’s past.
 
The ending, however takes an abrupt turn towards a darker theme that may not be suitable for children of a younger audience.
 
DISCLAIMER: I received a copy of this book for free in exchange for writing a review. I was not obligated to give a positive review, and all thoughts are my own.
 
About the Author
 
Celine Rose Mariotti was born in Derby, CT and has lived in Shelton, CT all her life. Since a child, she always liked to write. Celine's first book was "Olivia MacAllister, Who Are You?" Her latest book is "Minister's Shoes". Celine loves to write mysteries and science fiction stories.

The History and Progression of Tearooms
Madeleine J. Hendry
 
Tea has many uses and many forms but it’s the places that it is found that makes it fun. People have always gathered for tea, whether it be women or men, and whether it was for business or pleasure. The culture of tea is vast. One place it comes together is the tea room or house. Tea houses have been popular since the beginning of the Song Dynasty in China, making their way through Asia to Europe, and eventually pouring into America (Tea House).
​
            Tea rooms began in China. Originally seen as a medicine to treat a myriad of ailments, tea quickly became popular as a daily drink due to the taste and soothing effects. In the mid to late fourth century, tea plantations grew faster and with more product, leading to the casual consumption of the tasty beverage. The idea of tea houses and rooms was quick to travel over to the island nation of Japan. While it was already common for groups of women to gather for tea without their husbands, businesses began to pop up where complicated rituals and ceremonies were born. The Japanese decided to make the rooms more of a place of beauty and ritual, as opposed to the casual atmosphere of the rooms in China (JEOU). Of course, tea is popular in many countries in Asia but the majority of the tea culture belongs to China and Japan.

            In the Middle East and parts of Eastern Europe tea rooms were places for the intellectuals and poets to gather. The Middle East treated the tea house as a place of congregation, especially in Turkey and Egypt. The rooms in this part of the world would serve both coffee and tea, some even having smoking areas for Hookah and tobacco (Tea). Turkey began this tradition in the sixteenth century having been influenced by Arabia and Egypt (Beeley). In Tajikistan the tea houses are decorated with Persian art, as are the ones in Egypt, though in Egypt they are referred to as coffee houses. In moving to Europe, Czechoslovakia developed quite the tea culture. Different tea rooms were created for different ceremonies and preparations. After the split in 1993 into the two countries Czechoslovakia is today, the Czech Republic held on tight to its tea culture. Tea culture is still important in Slovakia but it is called an ‘underground movement’ and has virtually disappeared from the public eye.

            Tea became popular with the British people when it was brought from the south and quickly it evolved into so much more. In the seventeenth century Queen Catherine of Braganza brought tea with her to Britain from her homeland of Portugal when she married into English royalty. She began the tea sensation. Starting with the gentry and the higher class, tea became a regular afternoon treat; in later years it was passed down to the lower classes. This was common until the eighteenth century when businesses appeared in major cities serving fine tea with baked goods. The Duchess of Bedford in 1840 was credited with the creation of afternoon tea. Starting with the chain of Lyon’s Corner Houses in 1894, tea houses began to pop up all over Britain. In the early nineteenth century, with the arrival of the first and second world wars, tea houses began to be ignored, only regaining popularity after the fighting had ended.

            Influenced by the British, the popularity of tea rooms and houses in America rose to high heights, especially with the establishment of the eighteenth amendment banning alcohol. In the early twentieth century, American women were starting to branch out of the home and own their own businesses; the business that was quite popular was the tea room. Tea rooms were places where the women felt safe and more at home, especially when many of the places were either converted homes or decorated to look like homes (Brandimarte). Similarly to the trend in Britain, the popularity of casual businesses like tea houses fell during the turmoil of the Second World War. When the beginning of The Great Depression hit the American people, small business, like tea rooms, were some of the first to fall. In fact, the homey little cafes were not popular again until the beginning of the 1970s and 80s.

            Tea culture is important all around the world, having affected each and every section of humanity. Tea rooms and houses have varied throughout the years and will inevitably continue to adapt based on the further changes of people and the ways they wish to socialize. Tea rooms will always be places for business, for intellectuals, for mothers and daughters, and for people from all walks of life to gather.
 
Edited by: Anna Grace Dulaney 

Review by Maddy 

About the Book: Hannah Whitfield is tired of living a lie. She's been so caught up in hiding her affair from her husband, Jeff, and her three children that she cannot remember the last time she was honest with anyone, including her lover, Clint. Telling Jeff the truth is the hardest thing she's ever done, but she expects Clint to understand when she ends the affair. After all, he's the one who said "When it's over, it's over." Instead, he spends months stalking and intimidating Hannah. At last, Hannah believes she has finally convinced him to give up, and she and Jeff go camping. But Clint follows, and his actions alter the course of Hannah's destiny forever.
 
My Review: 3 ½ -4 stars. I usually steer clear of thrillers and religious fiction, namely because I know what’s going to happen in either of them- but when I found them hanging around in the same plot I was curious as to how it would turn out. Could they play nice and be friends? According to Mary Paddock they can. They can be best friends. For those of you that are on the fence about it know this: this book is pretty solid. Even if you can see miles ahead to the end of the book, which is more than possible about 1/3rd of the way in, there’s a dozen twists or turns before you get there, and some of those might surprise you. The plot itself is straight as an arrow – or a bullet -  and the writing is rather well done. The characters are where I see the problems, some are terribly, terribly deep and others are flat, static cardboard cutouts. The character of Matt manages to be both at the same time, which is a rare feat in itself.  Other than that though, Bright is well done.

So, the morals are feel-goody, the characters are mixed, and the writing and plot are solid. If you like thrillers, this’d be for you. If you want a “catch-the-murderer” style thriller with a side of ghosts and a large helping of Christian fiction to top it off this’d be the book that you’re looking for.

Disclaimer: I received a copy of this book for free in exchange for writing a review. I am not obligated to give a positive review, and all thoughts are my own.

About the Author:  Mary Paddock lives with her family in the Missouri Ozarks. To date, she's written four books, and numerous short stories. Her short work has been published in a variety of venues. Mary's an avid gardener, loves long walks, and good books. In her spare time, she rescues strays, flea market china, and abandoned ideas.