French Silk

Brainwashed as you devour the television

Capturing the delicious sensations of

Roasted caramel nougats dipped in chocolate.

As you ponder thinking, one could even

Utter to say that it’s food for thought.

Seize the idealized, not caramelized

Intentions that fed the chronic sweet tooth

Yearnings that you have.

Ignoring your cravings, which I applaud

For that astonishing feat.

Longest two minutes known to man.

Next time, leave some pie more than just a crumb!

 
By: Kevin Lopez

Tell Kevin what you think of his poem. Email him at

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HERE IS A SNEAK-PEEK INTO BOOK TWO

Crystal Moon, Magic of Luvelles

    Brayson appeared with Mary at his side. Before them was a pool with fire burning on top of its watery surface. The flames were tall, producing an uncomfortable heat that could be felt from where they stood, though nearly forty feet away. The pool rested within the Mountains of Oraness. To the far side, directly opposite their position, was an entrance to a cave. There was no way around the flames to get to this opening. The mountains were steep, forming cliffs which shot up from the edges of the pool, creating a protective barrier that nearly encompassed its entire perimeter. The spot where they now stood was the only place Brayson could have teleported them both without fear of being burned.

    “This place is special to me,” Brayson said. “I’ve never brought a woman here before. Come to think of it, I’ve never brought anyone here before at all.”

    Mary studied her surroundings, totally speechless. Brayson smiled as he enjoyed her expression and continued, “I can see you’re pleased... Have you ever seen anything like this?”

    Mary collected herself. “Never. How are such things possible? How can the fire burn on top of the water?”

    “The fire doesn’t burn on the water. The fire burns because of the creature at the pool’s center. The fire burns as a result of the beast’s need to be comforted within the flames. The water beneath isn't affected by the heat—in fact, the water would be boiling if it were. This is powerful magic. This is the home of my Goswig.”

    “Your Goswig... what kind of Goswig would sit within the flames?”

    “Take my hand and I’ll show you. Do you remember me telling George that I had a Phoenix?”

    “I’m sorry, I must have forgotten.”

    “It’s quite alright. Take my hand.” Cautiously, Mary took hold. She was apprehensive, but once assured that everything was okay, cooperated and began to walk. Brayson led her into the flames and across the top of the water. As they approached the center of the pool, the fire began to dissipate.

    They now stood on a small island patch of dirt located at the pool’s center. Sitting on top of a stone perch was a small, crimson-yellow bird. A thin layer of flame enveloped its entire body. In total, Brayson’s feathered Goswig was no bigger than twelve inches long.

    Mary leaned into Brayson. “I remember now. You were right. He is majestic-looking.”

    “I’m glad you agree.” Brayson then turned and spoke to the Phoenix. “Fisgig, I want you to meet someone special. This is Mary.”

    The Phoenix responded in its own language. “Hej, de yameso yorkamenta.”

    “She doesn’t speak your language, my friend. You’re going to have to lower yourself to our level in order to speak with us.”

    Fisgig sighed. “If I must. I was wondering when I would be meeting with you, Mary. You’re every bit as beautiful as Master Id said you’d be. It’s nice to put a face to the name.”

    Mary enjoyed the compliment. “Thank you.” She was unsure how to act, being out of her comfort zone, but excited to push her boundaries anyway. Being around such magic made her feel alive, yet frightened. Either way, she wanted to see what Brayson Id was all about.

    Brayson reached in and took the flaming bird on his hand. “Fisgig is preparing to burn himself to death, and will be reborn from his ashes soon.”

    “What...why would he do such a thing?”

    “With each death, Fisgig is able to command greater powers. This is the end of his fifth life. When he emerges from his ashes four mornings from now, he’ll be stronger. His rebirth will add to my power as well."

    "How does his rebirth affect you?" Mary asked.

    "We are bonded together. While he’s dead, I’ll be vulnerable. After I take you home, I’ll return here and wait until Fisgig lives once again. I’ve never told anyone this before. I'm entrusting you with my most sacred secret. This is the kind of trust I wish to have with you.”

    She didn’t know what to say. No one had ever wanted this kind of relationship with her before, sharing thoughts, feelings, and trust. Brayson took her hand and lifted it to set the Phoenix on it.

    “I don’t wish to be burned!” she said with fright and pulled her arm away. “I don’t have the magic necessary to protect me.”

    “Nor do you need magic to protect you,” Fisgig responded. “I can control my flame. You'll be safe. It wasn’t Master Id who protected you while you walked through the flames above the pool... it was me. Allow me to sit on your hand. It's safe, I assure you.”

    Mary was still uneasy, but there was something in the tone of Fisgig's voice that sounded truthful. She reached out, willing her hand not to tremble.

    Brayson changed the subject as Mary took the Phoenix on her finger. The bird was surprisingly light, and she didn't feel the heat from his flame at all. She breathed in relief and turned her attention back to what Brayson was saying. “The cave beyond this pool is the home of the Source. No one but us knows its true location.

    "And what is this true location? I'm still learning my way around, you know."

    "You’re within the Mountains of Oraness. I send my students here when the moment has come for them to seek the gift.”

    “What gift?”

    “The gift of power... magic’s ultimate power!”

     Mary thought a moment. “If you send your students here, then how is it that we are the only three who know where the Source is located? And what is the Source, anyway?”

     “This area is protected. A man cannot teleport directly into this area unless he possesses the knowledge given only to the Head Master. It’s a nice title to have and has its perks. The knowledge of the Source’s location is passed down from one Head Master to another. The cliffs surrounding this area are magically protected to keep curious minds from climbing them and revealing the true location of the Source’s home.

    “When my students come here, they must use a teleportation platform within the Source’s temple, located inside the Void Maze. The maze is far from here and isn’t a simple thing to navigate. The maze is torturous. A man could become lost for days before finding a way to get to its center, or even a way back out, for that matter. It would take a man nearly 100 Peaks of Bailem to walk from the base of these mountains to the maze. Not to mention, the boat ride necessary to cross the Straits of Ebarna.

    “The Source is an ancient dragon said to be the source of all magic, but this isn’t really the case. The Source is the protector of the Eye of Magic and has been for ages."

    "How old is the Source?" Mary said, cutting in. "How ancient is he?"

    Brayson thought a bit before responding. "All I can say is that the Source has seen the creation and the destruction of many worlds."

    "You said he protects the Eye of Magic. What does he protect it from?"

    Brayson smiled. "I like your inquisitive nature. I can see that talking to you will keep me on my toes."

    Mary winked. "I would rather you like me for my wit, not just my good looks." She held out her hand, and Fisgig returned to his perch.

    Brayson enjoyed her confidence. "To answer your question, The Source protects the Eye from men. In order for a man to look into the Eye, he must first prove himself to be worthy to pass the Source. If deemed so, the Eye will invite this aspiring mage to look into it. Many men have been swallowed whole by the Eye and lost forever. Their souls are spit out and left to find their way to the gods.”

    “That’s horrible,” Mary said. “Why would someone want to look into the Eye if they could be killed? And why is it only men who get to look into the Eye? What about women? Do you consider women not good enough?” She put her hands on her hips and waited for the answer.

    “Power is the reason men look into the Eye," Brayson responded, taking note of her body language.

     Brayson took Fisgig from his perch and set the bird on his shoulder. “To answer your question regarding women and why they haven’t looked into the Eye, I’ve never met a woman who has been ready to meet the Source. I have nothing against women seeking this power. In fact, I would welcome the day a woman was able to be the first. Until then, I can only speak of what has happened ‘til now."

    Mary pondered his answer. "I'm glad you're open to the idea. I admire strong women. I hope to know this woman, someday."

    "As would I." Brayson took a moment to find her eyes. He held her hands in his. "I see much strength in you, Mary. I also see a delightful wit and an ability to enjoy the moment. I watched from the bar at Kebble's inn as you and your daughters made your other family members laugh."

    Mary slapped his arm. "You mean to tell me that you were in the same bar and never said hello? Why?"

    "I had to work up the nerve. I needed to figure out how to approach you. The dresses were intended to buy me the moments necessary to accomplish this. Please forgive me."

    Mary laughed. "There is no forgiveness necessary. I find your vulnerability cute." After giving another wink she changed the subject. "You were going to tell me about the men who seek the power of the Eye."

    Brayson took a deep breath. “So, as I was saying, many men seek power, but it’s also this same search for power that causes doubt. A man may succeed and convince the Source that he’s worthy to pass, but it's not the Source they should fear. In fact, every now and then, the Source simply allows a man to pass without questioning him.

    “It’s the Eye they should be afraid of. When a man is invited by the Eye to look into it, it sees their doubt, and it hates doubt. It devours them and, like I said before, swallows them whole. Only those who believe they’re truly ready to receive the Eye’s gift survive. These men are granted power far beyond their own comprehension. They spend the rest of their lives as scholars of the arts trying to understand how to use this power. They strive to become immortal... god-like... but to my knowledge, no one has ever managed to attain this level without passing on first."

    "And is this your goal, to become god-like?" Mary said, cutting in again. "Do you desire to have so much power that you would forget to live your life and instead, search for it?"

    Brayson smiled. “I do enjoy your directness. I have no desire to become god-like, and furthermore, I enjoy living everyday to its fullest. If I had been so focused on attaining greater power, I would have never noticed you, now would I?"

    Again Mary slapped at his arm, but now, there was a satisfied twinkle in her eyes. "Good answer, Mr. Id. There just might be hope for you and me." Taking his hand, she gave it a squeeze. "So tell me more about you."

    Brayson cleared his throat. "I am the last man to look into the Eye and survive. Before me, it was my father. He was 1,200 seasons old when he finally died. I still haven’t reached my full magical potential and as I have said, I have no desire to."

    Removing Fisgig from his shoulder and returning the phoenix to his perch, he continued. "There have been only twelve men over the last 10,000 seasons who have passed this ultimate test. 2,764 men have tried and lost their lives in search of this ultimate power.”

    Mary stood in shock as she listened. Brayson continued. “Are you okay? You look as if you have questions, or maybe some concerns.”

    “Well, of course she does,” Fisgig responded. “You would too if the situation were reversed. It’s okay, Mary. Ask anything you wish.”

    “I have so many more questions, I’m not sure where to start. Is George going to look into the Eye someday?”

    Brayson smiled and took her by the hands. “This is nothing to worry about right now. If the day comes that he’s ready, I will tell you. You can always ask me something else as you think of it. But for now, how would you like to meet your first dragon?”

    Mary's smile widened. “Dragon? Are you serious? Me... meet a dragon?”

HERE IS A THOUGHT FOR US ALL.

    Sometimes I am dumbfounded as to how people act. I watch as folks seem to forget that we are all the same… I don’t give a crap what race you are… WE ARE THE SAME AND BLEED THE SAME. If you are one of those people who forget to be polite to the others around you. If you are so focused on yourself and by doing so, you fail to be a decent human… STOP… BREATH… and remember that your actions affect others. JUST BE GOOD TO EVERYONE.

HERE ARE A FEW THINGS THAT POPPED INTO MY HEAD!

If I said “I did,” and you said “I do.” Does this mean we have both the past and future covered?

If I said, “I want,” and you said, “I need.” Shall I show how much I care by giving?

If you said “I hate you” and I said, “I don’t care!” Did your harsh words really fall on deaf ears?

If you say the glass is half full and if I say the glass is half empty… Do we even have a glass of water at all?

If your feet stink, and my feet smell nice and fresh… well… damnit, don’t touch me with those nasty things!

JOKES OF THE DAY

I'm in a goofy mood today so how about some jokes I read while on the net.

What do you get when you drop a piano down a mine shaft?

A flat minor.

HOW DO I HANDLE CRITICISM?

    I have been asked the following question many times when young authors who wish to be sitting behind the table signing their own books approach me.

    They say… “How do you handle the criticism of the people who read your work and give negative feedback? Does it bother you?”

    My answer is that I don’t worry about it. People have opinions no matter what. If someone is solely negative or super critical, then I simply let it go in one ear and out the other. Now on the other hand, if someone is constructive with their voiced opinion… then I listen, and look for the things I can learn and try to see the wisdom in everyone's voice.”

WOW... HOW DO I RESPOND!!!!

    First I must start with a little history about the word… Narcissism… it describes a trait of excessive self-love based on self-image or ego, as well as lack of empathy for others.

    The term is derived from the Greek mythology of Narcissus. Narcissus was a handsome Greek youth who rejected the desperate advances of the nymph Echo. As punishment, he was doomed to fall in love with his own reflection in a pool of water. Unable to consummate his love, Narcissus pined away and changed into a flower that bears his name, the narcissus.

Hello Everyone,

    So I ran into an interesting person with an even more interesting perception of who I am as a person after meeting me for a short period of time. I have been called a narcissist by this individual. So… in the spirit of this idea I wanted to say one simple thing.

    PLEASE DON’T… mistake the confidence we see in the people all across this world for narcissism. It is a person’s confidence which allows them to accomplish great things. For us to try and bring these people down with comments as degrading as calling someone narcissistic would be to demean the very spirit which makes this country great and allows that special person who believes in a dream to succeed………….. To my rude friend… and you know who you are. The next time I’m volunteering my time and handing food to the homeless during the holidays at the Utah Food Bank… I will smile and remember how narcissistic I’m failing to be while giving to others.

FOR THOSE OF YOU WHO WOULD LIKE TO EMAIL ME AN OPINION ABOUT THE TOPIC ABOVE... PLEASE DO SO. LETS DEBATE... THIS IS GOING TO BE FUN!!!!! This e-mail address is being protected from spambots. You need JavaScript enabled to view it

    A response from Maria Payne to the above title... WOW... How do I respond. A Salt Lake City, UT. resident. ---- It is so unfortunate that we live in a society where we tear each other down more often than we build each other up. Where we have difficulty being genuinely happy when another does well… where we feel threatened when another succeeds… and where we are so quick to judge others when we know so little about them. Why can't we encourage others to be the best that they can be? Everyone of us has greatness within us. Sadly, not all of us are able to see it within ourselves. And I think when that happens it can be hard for us to appreciate it in others.

    A response from Cheryl Thompson to the above title... WOW... How do I respond. A Denver, CO. resident. ---- I just read the two entries on your blog concerning the ignorance and rudeness of people and I had to respond. I met you, Phillip, just last week and you were very straight forward and open with your comments to those who stopped by your table. When asked for simple advice, you responded with more generosity and true caring for a stranger than any other author I’ve met… let alone the many other people I know. I won’t say that you’re Mother Teresa, for several obvious reasons (deceased and woman comes to mind), but I know personally that you are a kind, giving man. For me, the name Big Dog is a description of the size of your heart as well as your height! As for these people who responded so rudely there are several possibilities… I’ll be generous and say that they each must have had a good reason for their behavior, such as a poor upbringing without manners or maybe they were dropped on their heads as babies and it knocked out all common sense. I see in your desire for all of us to be kind to others and the plea for people to take a stand for those who can’t protect themselves. So let’s do the right thing and pity those who speak before they think and behave so rudely to others. Let’s go have a great life and smile at someone just for the fun of it!

HOW RUDE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

    I met a lady today who approached the table… a table surrounded by people that I was signing copies of the book for and… without even opening the book she said, “This book is more of that crap!” Well, needless to say that everyone was flabbergasted at how rude she had been. So I stood up, quickly signed the last three books and then let her know that this crap took over 6000 hours of my life to create and walked off.

    I must say that it never ceases to amaze me the level of ignorance and lack of consideration people have on this world for one another. She is yet another example as to why our world is so screwed up. OR… maybe… just maybe… it was that time of month and she has an excuse… LOL God, I’m funny.

TORTURED MIND

    Sallow halls line this mind with deep regrets. A piece of my insanity wanders these mental halls searching for tranquility which will never be found. Who is this master puppeteer pulling my strings. Is it God... Is it a being unknown to me... or is it a sick game that I play to settle some twisted need to hide my sorrow from a childhood I hated... despised... and wish ever-so-desperately that I could live again to face the demons which haunt me?

Only time will tell... only time will tell...!

THE CREATION OF THE CHARACTER... George Nailer

The Author's Secret Revealed

    Regarding George Nailer… the main character... also the villain of the Worlds of the Crystal Moon series... I have decided to give you… the Fans… a little insight as to how I have come to write so passionately about this character. You see… it’s like this… George’s life and many of the things that happen to him as a young boy are, in actuality… my life as a young boy and are an adjusted truth of my own life. I use George as a way to vent. I have personally chosen to be a good man while living my own life… but… and I mean this next statement in the most sincere way possible… George Nailer is my evil half and who I could’ve been if I had chosen a different path. His pain was and still is to this very day… my pain! So… in knowing this information about me… May you read the Worlds of the Crystal Moon with stronger insight and that somehow this knowledge can make the events told within the series’ pages more impactful.

WOW... check out what KJ Roberts has to say about

Book 1... World of Grayham.

    I've read lots of books! From all the Harry Potters to the Fablehavens, and lots of other freaking awesome books. This one i had to say left all the others in the dust! I loved the storyline with all the twists and turns. I never expected George to become so powerful and manipulative. The amount of suspence in the book was awesome, not to much or too little. There was plenty of action and it all added up to a SUPER AWESOME BOOK!
KJ (cage) Roberts
Age:13
Sandy, UT

PEACE... Is this a real thing?

    Peace... is there really such a thing... or is this an unattainable concept of happiness... some sort of a sick dream which we all use without hesitation to pleasure our minds to put them at ease... allowing them to escape the reality of the unthinkable... the unthinkable fact that we are trapped in a hell until release comes... release in whatever form your particular faith or spirituality clings to.

I would love to hear your thoughts on this. Send me an email and express your feelings. This e-mail address is being protected from spambots. You need JavaScript enabled to view it

    Here is a response from Karen White....... You asked about the above, and it is a question I have often pondered. My only thought can be that peace is when you wake up in the arms of love, be that love physical or spiritual, it is the love of one's self. Not the perverse love that we see in today’s society or that which is found on television or by great means, it is not something one can obtain through material items or get from someone else. Peace is when we love ourselves for our perfections; moreover, our imperfections as a god would love his making. For we all come from a higher power, no matter the religion or region; eventually all admit there is a greater hand in our lives than coincidence or happenstance and that it is that hand that took time to create us as a whole. We owe it to our creator to find our peace and love ourselves, as he must.

Here is CHERYL CHRISTENSEN'S idea of peace.

    What is Peace?  Peace is the stillness you feel in the early morning... standing where the surface of a lake reflects the majesty of towering peaks as the early morning mist drifts through the pines and across the meadow where wildlife comes to feed.
    Peace is the joy felt when you see the dawning sun rise... that special moment when each drop of dew is awoken... only to glistening peacefully on each blade of grass.
    Peace is the smell of fresh rain and the quiet way each drop drips freely off lowered leaves and falls softly to the ground.
    Peace is the sight of a newborn child in his mother’s arms as she gently… ever so gently… brushes his soft cheeks... the infant turning with an open mouth, seeking instinctively for comfort and nourishment that only mother can give.
    Peace is the sound of cheerful, energized feet as your children greet you at the front door... the simple joy of watching them discover something new… the quiet moment that exists between the ruckus and romping of the day and the solitude of sleep... the comfort brought by a hug ... the calm felt within when you know that you're living a good life... keeping your promises to family and friends… but even more importantly, keeping your promises to your God and yourself.
    The world gives us pain and chaos. We alone have the choice to find peace and embrace the love around us. The signs of peace most often come from within... a quiet whisper here... a glance there... so many little things we could be paying attention to if we would only do so. I beg you to find peace within the moments of your life... don't allow others to take your joy from you!

Savage World

    Cries from a forbidden wish which will never be heard! A path a mother never wished to travel! Her arms filled with a lifeless form of a child wanted… now lost!
    Misery and company unite! Tearing apart what was once a happy home… a now withered home!  Thanks to the wickedness which consumes some men. How could God allow such things to happen to sinless innocence?
    Hate, chaos, murder, and terrorism… all friends to the devil!  All guilty… and equally at fault for this tiny angel’s forced silence.  How could God allow such things to happen?
    To all my fellow humans… love one another, respect one another, help one another, and be the one who takes a stand and protects our children from those who wish them harm!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Phillip “Big Dog” Jones (My Mood... Pissed Off!)

A FUNNY THING

If you can start the day without caffeine,
If you can get going without pep pills,
If you can always be cheerful, ignoring aches and pains,
If you can resist complaining and boring people with your troubles,
If you can eat the same food every day and be grateful for it,
If you can understand when your loved ones are too busy to give you any time,
If you can take criticism and blame without resentment,
If you can resist treating a rich friend better than a poor friend,
If you can conquer tension without medical help,
If you can relax without liquor,
If you can sleep without the aid of drugs,

…Then You Are Probably The Family Dog! (Author Unknown)