Happy Halloween (Tuesday’s Tell All)

/ Janna Hill / Leave a comment

Smoke Free is a weird little story conceived in the smoke of a brush fire. I was out in the woods snapping pictures, the images combined with a twisted imagination and tada! The rest is history.

The photos below show the cover; from the first photograph to the finished cover.

Smoke Free is probably the only book cover we have not changed at least a dozen times. The truth is I have never wanted to change it. I love this cover and the image of that little pumpkin smoking a cigar never fails to amuse me. (I have the husband to thank for that.)

I had never heard of Irwin Smutter before that day and he (like the cigar smoking pumpkin) still amuses me with his absolute weirdness; him and the bizarre world he resides in.

And here’s a bite sized sample of the lunch break tale …

The room appeared empty other than an oversized sofa. Irwin reposed himself against the frigid vinyl, crossed his feet and sighed. A lively timbered scene covered the wall opposite the door, designed in such a way it almost looked like a window. Beyond the dull sheen of the pretend window was a forest where rays of sunshine cut through a smoky haze. The remaining walls were un-textured, pale and bare. The room smelled of sandalwood and acetone, a bizarre sweetness that sickened and comforted him at the same time. Irwin shifted nervously on the stiff upholstery in search of a warm spot. There was none.

The faux leather, the lifeless walls, the fake window – it was all too unsettling. Nothing is real, he thought, stretching his arms until his hands met above his head. Fads! The world has been reduced to kooks, phonies, and fads. Reassured by his own summation, Irwin interlaced his fingers and stretched further. When the joints in his entwined hands refused to pop, he rested them at the base of his neck.

Smoking cessation. Yeah, right. It was not Irwin’s idea. Irwin enjoyed smoking. The pungent smell of a fresh-lit cigarette made bitter coffee sweet. Smoking was one of the few things he looked forward to each day. A good smoke, a little booze, a lot of caffeine and Evie. 

… …. …..

Oh. Oh. Oh. I can’t wait until you reach the end.

Happy Halloweenie Boils & Ghouls!! Bwahaha 👻

Available wherever e-books are sold.

Smoke Free narrated by Troy McElfresh and is available at 

Amazon

Apple

Audible

LIFE BEHIND THE RAILROAD ( #TBT )

/ Janna Hill / Leave a comment

I have been doing a lot of reflecting these past couple of weeks. Convalescents affords me that luxury; and let me tell you all of life feels like a luxury- a new lease on life.

If you follow me on TikTok you know I survived being electrocuted late last month. The after effects are a pain and still manifesting. Still, I am sooo grateful to be on the topside of the soil.

Anywho, I thought I would share some of my reflecting with this poem from Getting Me Back.

A little aside: My last visit to the old place was about twenty years ago. It was one of those random stops; my youngest son was in high school and we were on our way home from a dental appointment.

I said, “Hey you wanna see where I lived once as a child?”

Being the adventurous soul that he is he said, “sure!”

So, without further adieu, here you go.

For illustration to feed your imagination only XoXo

🖤~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~🖤

Life behind the railroad tracks

We called home a wooden shack

Lulled to sleep by passing trains

A tattered roof deterred the rains

Chilling winds crept through the walls

Carrying echoes of coyote calls

Two to three in every bed

With coats and quilts to cover our heads

Winter’s cruelty calmed us none

We unfurled early to meet the sun

Neither ice nor snow could hold us back

In hopeless times we crossed that track

Coon hunts and rat kills, boy we had fun

Don’t think it strange, it’s just what we done

June bugs and fireflies, the games that they sparked

Freeze tag and chase we played in the dark

We watched the train as it come and it go

The height of intrigue was to see a hobo


My life was carefree, the world a front door

I wasn’t concerned about being so poor

Our laughs outweighed most of the pains

Life came and went just like the trains


I sometimes reflect on that little old shack

And life behind the railroad track

Laughter rings over a muted cry

With a smile in my heart and a tear in my eye


No times are not tough but times are not fair

We done what we must to get here from there

For ice nor snow could hold us back

In hopeless times we crossed that track.

  • True story. Forney Texas 1970 something

Poem from Getting Me Back (The Voices Within)

Adieu Summer – Hello Autumn

/ Janna Hill / Leave a comment

You can’t tell it by the temps here in Texas but… It’s fall y’all. Here’s wishing you all a wonderful season and a plentiful harvest.

Poem from Getting Me Back (The Voices Within)

Fritillary- That’s a Funny Name

/ Janna Hill / Leave a comment

Not much is alive around here now other than the Marigolds and they’re struggling.

It seems everything is struggling, including myself. Heat will do that to a living thing.

It makes me think of poor Ishmael.

But…

Hallelujah this heat wave is on its way out. 🤞🏼

In the meantime I will sit quietly & enjoy this little Fritillary aka Gulf Fritillary & know that this too shall pass

✌🏼

Art (Books, Birds & Tuesday’s Tell-All)

/ Janna Hill / Leave a comment

Art imitates life, life imitates art…. Either way.

Below is the gruesome photograph that inspired the title [and first book cover] for Once Upon a Dead Gull. That was roughly a decade ago.

Once Upon a Dead Gull is an odd – nay peculiar short story anthology, but in my defense it was written for the horror genre.
Even more peculiar is that none of these stories are about a dead gull.

I know, right?!

The poor seagull’s parting gift to mankind… to me, was simply to give life to a book title and cover I had been struggling with.

Fast forward more years and tada. The dead gull was resurrected and a new cover was born.

Available wherever

This is not really a tell-all, nor is it a secret. I am not just a curious individual; I have a morbid curiosity.

Yep. I don’t stop with ghouls, ghosts, hidden places, locked doors, etcetera … Death amuses me.

And dead birds as witnessed by the above & below photographs.

A bluebird that succumbed to the freeze a few years ago.

I couldn’t save the beautiful little bird but I did (in a poetic way) paint him back to life.

My skill level does not do him justice.

There is no poem or story to commemorate him, I think it’s because I used the creative energy to paint him back to life.

About the Author ( #TBT )

/ Janna Hill / Leave a comment

1998 About the Author was literally the bio I picked for my first book of poetry Pose Prose & Poems (My Thoughts Exactly)

Ahhh I was so naïve. In hindsight even my most sinister & darkest moments at that time were no more than a cloudy day.

I was cursed with curiosity

Blessed with being poor

The fifth of seven children

Who could ask for more?

More fun than one should want for

More fights than one could win

More plates than food to go on

Yet I’d do it all again.

A SPECIAL THANKS TO all who have touched my life and allowed me into theirs. Remember, light casts a shadow, so stand in the light.

Little Man

/ Janna Hill / Leave a comment

IT’S TIME TO GO to bed little man
Cover up your head little man
I’ll see you when the sun breaks in the morn

Say your prayers and close your eyes
I’ve locked the monsters all outside
She’d sang those words to him since he was born

He grew to be a brave young lad
And followed after his ole dad
Beneath a flag of pride his oath was sworn

They brought him home in silk lined wood And all around him soldiers stood
While Butterfield’s Lullaby played on the horn

It’s time to go ahead little man
I know that you weren’t scared little man
My heart breaks, I can’t see you and I mourn

I’ve said my prayers for your closed eyes
I’ve tucked my feelings deep inside
She sang into a folded flag of thorns.