











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.
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
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.
What’s new?
Is nothing and a lot an appropriate answer?
Well it will have to suffice.
Let me first assure you I am not in a funk nor am I suffering from writer’s block.
On the contrary, potential stories abound!! I say potential because none have made it past my imagination.
In the garden, the grocery store, in front of the television or at a restaurant….
The list goes on forever.
So this morning as I was rocking and sipping my coffee (without spilling a drop), I asked myself,
Self, why haven’t you written a damn thing ??? No new books, not even a short story… Not so much as a blog post since April, and by the way you failed miserably at supporting NPM.
I pondered the question while I kept rocking and sipping, listening to the birds, watching the butterflies in the Mimosa tree and waiting for a response.

Finally self answered. Well, (in no chronological order) let’s see...
You got older and slower so multi-tasking got a little harder.

You had a birthday and Mother’s Day that went on for weeks-because you have some awesome ass kids.








You had Covid twice…

Your oldest brother died and it is still a painful and fresh wound…

You focused on family…

Remember a large portion of last year was consumed when the home had to be gutted and restored due to the flood after the freeze. And the fishing shack had to have all of the pipes replaced due to the same freeze.
The economy has put a strain on your finances so you’ve had to seriously reconstruct your retirement- and even put the fishing shack up for sale.

You chose to spend a significant amount of time mentoring and advocating for others because you know how it can be…
You spend a lot of time “working” at the pond and in the yard and gardens. But honestly you “meander” as much as you work.

Your dog died and you got a new kitten….


After listening to self for a minute, I said Oookay, and I didn’t feel too bad.
But then the selfish self had to wonder… am I still relevant? Not that I base my self worth on my writing but… you know.
So I typed my name and search-engined myself.
Great. At least I still appear in the www sphere.
But I found a piece of me in a place I had not heard of.
Fnac. F what?
Est-ce que tu parles français
Lord no. But I have been known to fake it.
So, in a nutshell that is what’s up. Or down.
If you don’t hear much from me it is safe to assume I am probably wandering in the woods or on the beach or working on a story even if it is in my head.
Stay well. Be happy.
XoXo

(#NPM )
I reach for you…
With every crack of thunder
I hear you laugh…
Your smile is every bolt of lightning.
The drops of rain, you touching me,
with unsalted tears…
No more pain; no more regret.
I raise my arms,
as a child beckoning to be held
and it pours.
My grief is washed away by
stinging pellets of a spring rain
Leaving behind a clean slate
with only memories of the most mundane,
most cherished moments of my life.

Credits:
I created the cover from a photograph I had taken.
The heading image (The Storm) was created from a compilation of images I found at Pixabay. (Thank you Pixabay contributors).
The poem, In the Storm was taken from this twisted book of poems. And… guess what?
For a limited time my partnering experiment with Smashwords lets the reader decide what they will pay. Yep! You decide. Check it out.
And don’t forget to follow my podcast
Just keeping it real. 😘




Ah I vaguely recall my start as an independent writer; it almost seems like a lifetime ago.

I can’t even remember how I found [the oddly named] Smashwords, but I am glad we connected. Mark Coker’s publishing platform really simplified my life.
And then Draft2Digital with Books2Read came along with their pretty little layouts and boom I had a new crush. And a new distributor.
But I never left Smashwords.
By the way, it is true Smashwords and Draft2Digital are merging and I think that’s a good thing.
I’m not sure if Smashword’s support of the annual Read an eBook will continue in the years to come, but it is going on right now through March 12th. I, of course, am participating. Several of my books are available free or at a drastically reduced price. Just scroll through and check it out.

I believe The Perpetual Series was the first, or one of the first books I published with Smashwords; that was in 2013. Can you believe that?
I recall making the cover from a photograph I had taken of a flower blooming in the yard. Sadly, that flower never returned.
… that flower and so many other things.
Sigh
Happy Thursday Y’all. XoXo
Sometimes you just have to ride…
Ride out far enough until the land opens up and the road meets the sky.



Hey, you know what would be great on this Tuesday – the second day of the second month in the year 2022?
Two dozen free tacos delivered to my door.
Or
Two million dollars deposited into my account.
I would eat the tacos and share the dollars.
But I have neither so…
I guess I’ll eat a double-decker dried out bologna sandwich that tastes like dusty cardboard and give you …. drum roll 🥁
Two (+2+2+2+2+) stories (that’s More) for the price of one.
And a few of my favorite twos.
Happy Tuesday/Twos-day Y’all.








Hi y’all 🙋🏼♀️
My apologies for not blogging more but I have seriously been busy. I’m talking BiZZy!
We are just getting the house back to normal after February’s winter storm, Uri. I’m not sure why it’s (unofficially) referred to as Uri? 🧐
I did a web search and unless I overlooked a reasonable definition-I found nothing that applied to the ice storm. Feel free to educate me.
Anywho we are getting back to normal. Haller-lu-ya!!
[doing the happy dance]
So before I get busy this morning getting the yard and pond back in shape I will leave you with a #TBT.

There’s an eagle out there soaring And my best friend is out whoring
Turning tricks of any kind
Doing anything to make a dime God forgive her for the crime
All she needs is a little more time.
On the roof three stories high
A junky cries and begs to die
Ain’t had a fix in several days Swears he can’t go on this way
Across the street a church bell chimes
Grant us please a little more time.

An old man sick and dying
Alone with no one crying
He grieves for all the pain he’s caused
For all the people that he’s lost
Outside the window painted mimes All rushing for a little more time
A woman labors down the hall
Her anguish echoes through the wall
But soon a laughter takes its place When she looks upon the baby’s face
For a moment all is sublime
As we are given a little more time