Please Consider Becoming One of ‘Gabriel’s Angels’ if you are not already!
I am grateful for you.
Have you ever helped support an artist, writer, or a musician? If so, I applaud you. I celebrate you. It’s a very cool thing to do. It shows that you value the arts. It shows that you care about the underdog—creativity—self expression.
I greatly value those who support me on this Substack—Gabriel’s Angels, I call them, because they are angels to me. I consider them more than subscribers, they are my dear friends. They are fans of my writing. They await my next book. They believe in me. I love them!
If you believe in me, too, and want to help me keep writing, you can do that for as little as $6 a month (that’s cheaper than a cup of coffee in some places), or save $20 and pay $50 a year. As a paid subscriber, you will get a post from me fifty-two weeks a year. Every Saturday. Without fail.
Free subscribers get a post from me once a month, also on a Saturday. I am incredibly grateful for your interest. Thank you so much for reading!
The format I use for paid subscribers is as follows:
A favorite image or picture from the photos on my phone:
(This is very true. A common saying in art classes that I’ve taken is:
to compare is to despair. )
A favorite Quote: Something I’ve underlined in a book, or written in my journal:
What I’m thinking about this week:
Roses
I had a dream where Ethel Merman was singing Everything’s Coming Up Roses. The tune is now stuck in my head, in a wonderful way. What a great song! Please join me on the chorus 🎶🎶
Everything’s Coming Up Roses Lyrics
[ROSE]
I had a dream
A dream about you, baby!
It's gonna come true, baby!
They think that we're through
But, baby—
You'll be swell, you'll be great
Gonna have the whole world on a plate!
Starting here, starting now
Honey, everything's coming up roses!
Clear the decks, clear the tracks
You got nothing to do but relax!
Blow a kiss, take a bow—
Honey, everything's coming up roses!
Now's your inning
Stand the world on its ear!
Set it spinning
That'll be just the beginning!
Curtain up, light the lights
You got nothing to hit but the heights!
You'll be swell
You'll be great
I can tell—
Just you wait!
That lucky star I talk about is due!
Honey, everything's coming up roses
For me and for you!
You can do it
All you need is a hand
We can do it—
Momma is gonna see to it!
Curtain up, light the lights
We got nothing to hit but the heights!
I can tell
Wait and see
There's the bell
Follow me
And nothing's gonna stop us till we're through!
Honey
Everything's coming up roses and daffodils
Everything's coming up sunshine and Santa Claus
Everything's gonna be bright lights and lollipops
Everything's coming up roses for me and for you!
What I am reading:
Another book by Ruth Ware: The Death of Mrs. Westaway. (Reminds me a little of the book, and Alfred Hitchcock film, Rebecca).
Ruth Ware writes mysteries. This is the second one of her books that I have read. They are well-written and probably can be found in any local library.
What I am working on:
Chapter 25 of the Honey Honeycutt mystery. A plot twist came up. Honey finds a box of letters in the attic addressed to Granny Seeker from a character in Honey’s past. Didn’t see this one coming!
Writing or journaling prompts:
Write about your childhood bedroom. Try to remember every detail, including the toys in your closet or toy box, and the way you felt there. Was it your safe place?
Write something about yourself that people could not tell by looking at you.
If you could rename yourself, what new name would you choose and why?
If you were going to write a book, what kind of book would it be?
A Favorite Poem:
Perhaps the World Ends Here by Joy Harjo.
The world begins at a kitchen table. No matter what,
we must eat to live.
The gifts of earth are bought and prepared, set on the table. So it has been since creation,
and it will go on.
We chase chickens or dogs away from it. Babies teethe at the corners. They scrape their
knees under it.
It is here that children are given instructions on what it means to be human. We make
men at it. We make women.
At this table we gossip, recall enemies and the ghosts of lovers.
Our dreams drink coffee with us as they put their arms around our children. They laugh
with us as our poor broken- down selves and as we put ourselves back together once again
at the table.
This table has been a house in the rain, an umbrella in the sun.
Wars have begun and ended at this table. It is a place to hide in the shadow of terror. A
place to celebrate the terrible victory.
We have given birth on this table, and have prepared our parents for burial here.
At this table we sing with joy, with sorrow. We pray of suffering and remorse. We give
thanks.
Perhaps the world will end at the kitchen table, while we are laughing and crying, eating of the last sweet bite.
—
Finally, I will conclude with my wish for you in the coming week. May you …
May you come across roses all week. May you take time to smell them. May you rediscover an old passion in a new way. May you sing show tunes all week that you haven’t sung for years.
Everything’s coming up roses for me and for you! 🎶
Please consider subscribing. xo
Love you!
Susan
P.S. ongoing Q&A—Ask me any question. I will answer