For Your Information

Just in case folks

Stevie Turner

This is a scam that has been going around lately.  I received this email yesterday, but have checked it out on the AskNetSec site as these scams are getting more sophisticated, especially as he had an old password of mine (AskNet gives the answer to this as being from an old site where I had an account that had been compromised), so don’t worry if you receive an email like the one below.  As for the porn sites… well, I think he was definitely groping in the dark there, if you’ll excuse the pun!


My nickname in darknet is ryley58.
I hacked this mailbox more than six months ago,
through it I infected your operating system with a virus (trojan) created by me and have been monitoring you for a long time.

So, your password from stevieturner3@hotmail.co.uk is …(he gave an old password that I had used last year).

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Good People Doing Good Things — After the Storm

Here is another heart-warming one of Jill’s ‘Good People’ posts. Reminding us once more there are good folk out there

Filosofa's Word

box of tissues.jpgGood people … they are everywhere, but sometimes we fail to notice them because they are too busy to toot their own horn, and they are overshadowed by so much noise on a day-to-day basis.  I recommend you grab your box of tissues, Gronda, for I needed a box just to write these stories.


Luis Ocampo is an Army medic currently serving with the National Guard in North Carolina.  Naturally, his services were much-needed last month in the wake of Hurricane Florence, and Luis was called out to help those in need. He was on duty for several days without returning home, and when he did return home, it was to find that his home had been ransacked and robbed.luis ocampoAn aside here … what kind of a person does it take, in the middle of a disaster when thousands are suffering, to do this?

His girlfriend and one-year-old son…

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Writers. Who’d be a Writer?

So after all your hard work. After all the time invested in the writing, the re-writing, the self-editing; maybe the paying for an editor, The Book Cover ‘thing’. You’ve found it’s even harder to publicise the book than write it. You’ve done it all and what?

You are too intimidated to do anything else with it.

The book doesn’t register double figures in sales.

The book does well, only you can’t figure out how to write another.

The book does well but after all that effort…you can’t be bothered to write another one, and you cannot figure out why.

The book does well, the reviews are fine, until you get the ‘nasty’ one. And you naturally pay more attention to that one.

Who’d be a writer eh?

Suddenly all the drive has gone. All the perverse energy you got from writing under the Flag emblazoned with the motto ‘So What? I’ll write it ‘cas I want to!’ seems so far away now. Your flag lies forlorn in a puddle.

Who’d be a writer eh?

You swear the next cheerful pep-talk post(er) you come across is going to get real piece of your mind.

From now on, every time you see a post with a list if helpful hints, you are gonna ‘unfollow’ that blogger, faster than someone who blogs with political opinions you don’t agree with.

And you do not. No, you certainly do not, like ever again read about someone else’s book being published.

And then you think

‘Oh dear (or whatever else fits). How did I get here? What is going on?’

Yeh. Who in their right mind, looking for an easy uncomplicated life would be a writer?

(While we’re about it. Easy uncomplicated Life? Is there such a creature?)

Yeh, I ‘get it’ brothers and sisters.

Y’see the problem is, Writing comes with a price. All of the above. The effort, the energy spent, the ups, the downs, the desolations, the disappointments, the worry, the emptinesses. All the sly subtle draining. The folk who are seemingly successful, worrying about where the next book comes from, or what the public will think of it. We shouldn’t forget them either. If you are going to take up the pen, or tap out the keyboard, be ready with an allegorical pocket or two full of allegorical coins.

Yeh, I ‘get it’ fellow writers. You are feelings are nothing to be ashamed of, nor frightened of. This path is a rocky one. Even us Crazy ‘What-The -Hell’ ragged-style aficionados have tripped up over our own wild feet and fallen into a patch of Reality. Some of us have even wondered if it’s our weird nature or just us in Denial about our lack of talents which keeps us bouncing along with folk scratching or shaking their heads as we pass on by. Us on our faux-Captain Beefhart,/ ‘Pretend I’m a Frank Zappa of Writing’ trips.

I can do nothing for your pain, because it is yours and I would not pretend to have some long-distance answer, that would be insulting to you. Your despondency is a familiar feeling and easy to trace, origin so common in the writing world. I wish it were within my remit to incant something to take away as your fears and your woe.

Within my remit though is to understand the feelings, not to denigrate them or insult them with a Happy Mary Poppins approach. The dust, the dirt, the chill winds of doubt, I understand, borne witness to them, experienced them on my tongue, breathed them in and they settled on my heart.

The thing is.

You will shuffle, you will ease up your weary bones, feel about for your allegorical pen, hitch up your pack of ideas onto your back and belt, you will stare out across the battered landscape and move out. There does not have to be a squaring of the shoulders, nor some end of John Wayne War movie tough, determined quote (cue music & credits), nor my favoured style of ‘Mickey Mouse Club’ rendition out of full Metal Jacket. You will move on, because The Writing Calls, exactly why, for you will be personal. You will. Just because.

‘Not me! I’ve had enough! I’m tired through. Scared, scarred and scattered. Done all I could. It’s got me beat,’

To you I say. It didn’t beat you. You did as much as you could and found this was not for you. Well, who doesn’t do that? How do you know, if you don’t try? Don’t sell yourself down. You tried. End of chapter. Now go and do something else. It is for you to choose. No disgrace. You were there, you took a stand. Now move onto another place.

We are Human. We have weaknesses. We have strengths. We have pain. We have Humanity.

We are.

And you may write once more. Or never write again, turn your back on the whole thing.

In neither act is there is futility.

There is however in both Life.

Light your torch with it.

Printed Book DIY

Now here are some very wise words and useful information from Audrey on the question of book covers.

Audrey Driscoll's Blog

Okay, authors are advised not to do this — design your own cover images, especially for the printed versions of your books. But I did it. Maybe it was the allure of the forbidden. Or maybe it was inevitable, because this whole writing and publishing adventure started with me telling myself, “Think of it as an exercise, not a commitment. Try it and see what happens.”

When I published my first ebooks, almost a decade ago, my home made cover images were indeed lame. After a couple of years I commissioned excellent professionally designed images, which still grace the four books of my Herbert West Series. They were not inexpensive. (“Good, fast, cheap — pick two!”)

A couple of years ago, I started using Canva, just to see whether it was as easy as some said. After some experimentation, I designed cover images for the four short spinoff stories…

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#Poetry: Moon…

Here are some spell-bidning verses on our Moon

anita dawes and jaye marie

462945-bigthumbnail.jpg

My silver lady hangs safely among the stars,

Swimming through the firmament on her 28-day cycle.

Shedding her light upon the earth

Often she sits in the pale blue sky during the day

On dark nights, she brings romance and mystery

Often time’s shady dealings are done beneath her gaze

Yet for me, she is my lady bringing magic

A time of spells, for love and luck

She is known for inspiration, which all writers need

A friend since early childhood and remains so to this day

At 72, the years have been long. I whisper my thoughts to her

On nights when I cannot see her, still I whisper

As I know she is out there somewhere in the world

I believe she has stopped me losing my marbles

My mind as sharp as it was years ago

My friend ever watching me, my white ghost, one I can…

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North-easterly: Sidetracked by saints

Sue often takes the reader through interesting journeys into Britain’s earlier heritages made all the more enthralling by the inclusion of beautiful photos. A blog well worth visting.
Here is one fine example

Sue Vincent's Daily Echo

Few churches named after a saint have a historical claim to have been built by their namesake, but St Aidan’s church in Bamburgh is one of the few who have that right. The original church here was founded by St Aidan himself in 635, shortly after he was called to Bamburgh by King Oswald.

Aidan was a monk at the monastery on the island of Iona where Oswald had been raised as a boy. Aidan, like most of those who served at Iona, was Irish and, in the early part of his mission to Northumberland, King Oswald was obliged to act as his interpreter. King and monk shared a mission to bring their faith to the region and must have become close friends.

After Oswald’s death in battle at the hands of King Penda, the king was hailed as a saint and many miracles were attributed to his relics and…

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