Sanchona's Review of Acts of Love

Acts of Love was my second published novel.

Australian author Sanchona (A Family of Strangers) wrote the following review:

"Ms Cassandra Barnes has published a new novel, Acts of Love which tells the story of Amanda Reed, who has made a new life for herself in a small town where she has cultivated a large group of close friends. Then two murders shake up the community. Amanda and her friends rally around to help the family of the victims. It is in this chaotic time that Michael, the son Amanda had regretfully abandoned for his own good years ago, shows up at her door. There is no great reunion. Michael resents his mother, but has only looked her up for the sake of his son, who has recently been diagnosed with cancer. Michael is hoping that Amanda, as the grandmother, might be that compatible bone marrow donor to save his child's life. Acts of Love deals with the question of hard decisions some people make based on love that call for personal sacrifice, then years later, they wonder if they had made the right decision. Cassandra Barnes is to be congratulated for skillfully weaving into this theme a budding romance in a murder mystery that is then complicated by a family conflict. This appealing novel makes easy reading. I look forward to her next novel."

Sometimes I Surprise Myself!

In my early 30s I became acquainted with a woman about twice my age who shared my love of reading. In talking with her, I learned that she primarily read non-fiction, and was avid about learning new things. With the arrogance of youth, I wondered why, since she was retired, and therefore "old," with no practical (meaning income-producing) way to apply that knowledge.

Now that I’m about her age, I’ve found that all I want to read is non-fiction, and that I just can’t seem to get my fill of learning something new. I now understand that people don’t have to "do" something with their knowledge, that there is great pleasure in simply discovering new information or expanding existing information.

I still enjoy fiction, although my tastes have changed dramatically over the years, but I’ll nearly always chose non-fiction first. Some of it is lightweight, and some of it forces me to really study what the author is saying. I’m very eclectic, reading from an extensive selection of authors, philosophies, and fields.

I suppose in a way that I’m looking for answers, although I’ve not formulated any serious questions. I think, though, that most of it is a matter of curiosity, of wanting to know as much as I can about everything. The older I get, the more I realize how little I really know, despite having lived a full life, with a variety of experiences.

From Trash To Treasure

I recently watched a squirrel attempting to carry something fairly large and bulky up a tree. I put peanuts out for them every morning, but his burden definitely wasn’t a peanut. It looked like an oversize coffee cup from a takeout place. The squirrel tried repeatedly to run up the tree, sometimes making it almost halfway up, but invariably dropping his treasure. He’d scramble down, grab the cup and try again.

I knew he’d never reach his goal, whatever high branch it was, so I went out to pick up the cup, mentally grumbling about whichever neighbor had left trash out for the squirrels.
When I got to the bottom of the tree, I discovered an empty peanut butter container. Not only that, I recognized it as stolen from my recycling box! I’d left the box lid loose enough that the furry thief had been able to loot the contents.

I’d washed out the jar before disposing of it, but it had a fluted bottom and I hadn’t been able to remove all traces of peanut butter. It was plastic, and the squirrel had chewed a two-inch hole in the side. Apparently other squirrels on the ground were trying to steal his trophy or perhaps he wanted to finish devouring it at his leisure in a tree. In either case, he considered me the thief and roundly scolded me.

I now have a new recycling container, with a tight-fitting lid that I’m careful about closing securely. I still hear little feet scrambling around occasionally, so I know my squirrel thief is waiting for its chance to grab another treasure.

A Perfect Body Accepted for Publication

I'm pleased to announce that my third novel, A Perfect Body, has been accepted for publication by Write Words, Inc. It's scheduled for release on June 1, 2009 as an e-book.

A Perfect Body is a contemporary sweet romance.

Description: A bundle of contradictions, Madeleine Andrews doesn't play well with others, yet is a devoted volunteer. Luke McFarland is a successful people-pleaser, burying his own desires beneath an ever-present smile. Theirs could be the love affair of the century, but first they have to learn to like each other. She thinks he's insincere and a phony. He thinks she's arrogant and difficult. And that's just the start of their problems.

Spring Is In The Air

The skies spit snow earlier this week, but there’s nothing but sunshine in the forecast now, and spring is springing.

I saw the first flowers last week - dandelions waving in the wind. I don’t recall seeing those bloom so early in the past, but there they were, as cheery as could be.

Monday a hummingbird checked out the bird feeder. This worried me a bit, as our nighttime temperatures are still well below freezing, and there’s nothing blooming that hummers can feed on. It’s much too early for them to be this far north. I made syrup and hung out the hummingbird feeder in case it returned, but I’ve not seen it again. I fear that the little thing either starved or froze. The syrup in the feeder has been frozen every morning.

Tuesday, a sunny yellow crocus poked its little head through the mulch. The subsequent snowfall didn’t keep it from being bright and perky.

Many of the winter birds are still coming to our feeders, but the spring and summer birds are making an appearance also. We’ve seen three goldfinches and a pair of Western bluebirds, two of our favorite species. There’s been several robins as well.

If this year is like past years, we’ll still have snowfall, but for now, we’re enjoying flowers blooming, birds signing, and sun shining.

Ouspensky on Knowledge, Part I

I’ve started Chapter One of "Tertium Organum: A Key to the Enigmas of the World," by P D. Ouspensky.** He begins with assertion that "The most difficult thing is to know what we do know, and what we do not know."

He says we can start with knowing two facts. The first is our inner life, which is the subjective fact of our existence. The second is the existence of the outer world, which is objective. He maintains that we cannot prove these two basic facts, that we must simply accept them as given. Everything else is an unknown.

His conclusion: we learn about what exists outside us by the sensations generated within our inner selves. The mistake we then make is in thinking our sensations are the cause of what we experience in the outer world.

For me, Ouspensky’s insights resonate with the idea that nothing is good or bad in and of itself. Our attitude, our thoughts, our experiences, our sensations combine to make something seem good or bad. We always have a choice as to how we regard any particular object or action, although it may not seem so in the heat of the moment.

Thoughts happen so quickly that it seems impossible to control them in any way, but I’ve learned from others that there is an instant, an infinitesimal space, before the thought forms. The trick is to become aware of that instant, that space, and in that manner gain awareness of our thoughts. Then we can start learning why we perceive the outer world the way we do.
But for starters, I think it’d be helpful if I’d just pause before I say "I know this or that" and wonder whether or not I truly know it. And if I know it, how?

**Refer to first Ouspensky post for more info on him and his book.

Winter Wonderland

We’ve received lots and lots of snow recently, with more on the way. Unless all the weather forecasts are wrong, I can expect to see big wet flakes falling again when I get up tomorrow morning.

I start early every day on clearing out my driveway, even before the snowfall stops, as it’s easier for me to shovel a few inches several times than it is to shovel the whole thing one time. I don’t mind - there’s a certain stillness in snow falling in the early morning that’s very peaceful, even magical.

I walk the dog mid-mornings, and am usually rewarded with incredible beauty. The snow had just stopped falling one morning just before we started our walk, and everything was pristine white. The sun peeked out for a few minutes, turning everything around us into sparkling crystals.

The crystalline beauty, the green trees, boughs laden with snow, and the blue sky - it was one of those special times. The sun appeared only briefly, but the beauty was all the more special for the briefness.

The sky soon turned leaden again, the magical silence was soon broken by the sounds of traffic, tire chains clanking, on the highway, and I knew I’d spend the afternoon shoveling more snow, if not from the driveway, then from the roof.

But for those few moments, I knew sheer joy in the beauty surrounding me, as my dog and I made footprints side-by-side in our own winter wonderland.