Because I am a woman of few words as of late.
photography
Happy Halloween (Tuesday’s Tell All)
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
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A Weed…. Or Just a Flower You Haven’t Met Yet? (Wordless Wednesday)
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It Started with a Photograph …
It all started with a simple photograph of an old dilapidated door. Throw in an ounce of imagination & tada!
Happy Friday Y’all.
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It’s the Little Things (Wordless Wednesday)
Remembering Princess Leia (#TBT)
I was thinking of Leia today. She was a dog my daughter rescued from euthanasia & left with us on the farm.
Her crime? I’m not sure other than being an undesirable white shepherd; a black sheep that sullied the breeding pool.
Leia was oftentimes mistaken for a husky because of her beautiful icy blue eyes. I never cared, I simply thought she was beautiful.
We could never make her understand the boundaries of the 10 acre farm – she felt sure it extended to a half mile radius.
Finding the photo of a book cover with her (playing the part of Gus) left me a little nostalgic.
It’s oddly amazing how animals touch our lives. …Our hearts.
In loving memory of Princess Leia.
I’ll see you in the clouds one day.
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Saint Patrick’s Day (Friday’s Free-for-All)
An old man once told me, “Saint Patrick ran the snakes out of Ireland and now they rule the world.”
I thought I would share that belief along with a little history. Oh, and a little poem.
St. Patrick’s Day, feast day (March 17) of St. Patrick, patron saint of Ireland. Born in Roman Britain in the late 4th century, he was kidnapped at the age of 16 and taken to Ireland as a slave. He escaped but returned about 432 CE to convert the Irish to Christianity. By the time of his death on March 17, 461, he had established monasteries, churches, and schools. Many legends grew up around him—for example, that he drove the snakes out of Ireland and used the shamrock to explain the Trinity.
Source: Brittanica
Poem by Janna Hill.
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Gone to the Dogs (Wordless Wednesday)
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Happy Valentine’s Day
Ain’t Love Grand
Ain’t love grand?
Sure it is… but sometimes it’s not.
Sometimes it is tattered and torn and embittered…
Sometimes it’s so snarled and twisted it leaves nothing but ashes in its wake. Take it from Ishmael.
HaPpY ValenTines DaY
Love IS grand – until it ain’t. If you have a real love and a healthy relationship you should celebrate that every day. Don’t be the characters I write.
Roses From Ishmael was originally published as a single& then in Once Upon a Dead Gull and Short Stories & Such.
This short is available Wherever books are sold. Including Barnes & Noble & Google Books/ Play
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TikTok (Mad Monday)
Well I have to admit [again] I haven’t been very productive as a writer lately; well not in a creative capacity.
I could blame it on the move after selling our fishing shack in Port Lavaca.
I can blame it on the new pups our daughter gave us.
I do blame it on a lot of things, heck the heat here in Texas by itself is an acceptable excuse [and I have lots of excuses] but the truth is…
in my spare time …
I’ve been TikTok’ing.
I stay up late nearly every blasted night gobbling up this stuff like a big man eating biscuits and gravy.
Some of you know my TikTok account has been deleted more than once but I keep going back.
Hardheaded?? Opinionated? Determined?
All of the above.
But this time I am curbing my enthusiasm.
This time The Real Janna Hill has learned a lesson or two.
So hopefully TikTok won’t put me in time out or evict me again; after all my demeanor is milder now – not so anti ______ – not so confrontational – not so spicy.
Yeah I’m more like a lovely bowl of covert cold oatmeal – with an agenda nothing but optimism.
HaPpY Tuesday y’all.
😉
TikTok.
The Real Janna Hill in 