A Little Word Art


A Little Word Art

By Nandy Ekle



















How To Melt A Nana’s Heart



How To Melt A Nana’s Heart

By Nandy Ekle


Last January we went to visit our kids and grandkids. We have a granddaughter who is nine years old and reads on a college level. I remember when she was only eighteen months old. I bought her the book “Where The Wild Things Are.” This book is one of my all time favorites because it’s a story of imagination. As a young mom, I read it to my kids over and over. As a nana, I get to read to my grandkids.

When my nine-year-old granddaughter was a year-and-a-half old, her baby brother was born. I stayed at their house to help out while her mom and dad were busy with the new baby. I took a copy of Where The Wild Things Are as a gift from Nana to Grandgirl. And I read it to her once. Then she brought it back to me to read over and over and over. I think we bonded deeply during that time.

So last January when we went to visit, she handed me a card she made herself that said, “Welcome Nana and Pawpaw.” Later that night she came to me with a book in her hand.

“Nana, would you read to me?”

No way I could answer anything other than, “Absolutely!”

She put a copy of Where The Wild Things Are in my hands. When I opened the cover of the book, I saw where I had written seven years ago, “From Nana, who loves you very much.”

I almost couldn’t read for all the heart melting going on inside me.

The Dog And the Leash


The Dog And the Leash

By Nandy Ekle

I took part in a survey recently—one question, intended to make you think introspectively: name one thing you wish you could bring back from your childhood. This question definitely did get my brain cells working.

I started thinking about what kind of child I was. And then a story bubbled which gave me my answer.

Once upon a time, a girl had a dog. This dog was very energetic and very powerful, and the girl had to learn to control it. She clipped a leash to its collar and they went for a walk. The dog wanted to run and play, and he wanted the girl to run and play with him. But he was big and strong and the girl usually ended up huddled in a corner with a skinned elbow or a tear in her jeans.

But she couldn’t get rid of the dog because he was her constant companion. He went everywhere she went. He slept next to her at night, got up and went to school with her in the morning, came home and ate dinner with her, took baths with her, and then went to bed with her every single night.

And every day she took him for a walk on the leash. She learned to tell him no, that she didn’t want to run. She pulled on the leash to slow him down when he went too fast. And she yanked the leash if he tried to run after a bird or a rabbit.

But she also gave him treats. She bought tasty things for him to chew on. She gave him his favorite snacks. She scratched him behind the ears and made sure he had plenty of healthy food and water.

One day she took her dog out for a walk. She took hold of his collar with one hand and held the leash in the other. She rubbed the metal clip of the leash on the metal loop of his collar, but she didn’t really attach them. Instead she hung the leash around her neck, held her arm out as if she actually was holding the leash, and they began their walk. And an incredible thing happened. Her dog walked as if he really was attached to the leash. He didn’t run away from her, or drag her, or jump around. He walked calmly by her side and obeyed her when she talked to him.

After a while she remembered how much fun it was when he was running and jumping, and she wanted him to do that again. So she pretended to take the leash off his collar, but he still stayed calmly by her side. It wasn’t until she began to run that the dog started running as well.

So, I’ve gone through all this to say, I’m the girl and my imagination is the dog. I’ve spent so much time and energy learning to control it, and now when I want it to run wild, it looks at me as if I still have it leashed. If I could bring one thing back from my childhood, it would be my wild and free imagination.

Congratulations. You have just received a post card from the muse.

The Dream


The Dream

By Nandy Ekle

I roll out of bed and see the new born sunlight peek through my bedroom window. I stretch luxuriously. No reason to be in a hurry, I work from my kitchen table. I go to work when I want to, work as long as I feel like it, and clock out when I’m ready.

I play my computer games or read my books as I soak my achy joints in a scalding hot bath. This is an important part of every day for me because that’s where I find the energy to move. Also, I must start each day by washing and styling my hair. This is mainly out of consideration for the rest of the world. If I don’t do that, people tend to be afraid of me because my hair looks like a monster.

Now that I’m out of the bath, all soaked and moveable, I sit at the kitchen table and travel to faraway lands. I meet all the people of that land and they tell me all about themselves. Sometimes these people cry and complain about their lives. Sometimes they fight with each other. Sometimes they want to control their world and make all the others do what they want. Some of these people don’t want any attention because they want to do things no one else can see.

I will sit at my table and play with these people all day long until I get tired of them. Then I can simply tell them goodnight and shut down.

My job is to write down all the stories they tell me. I never try to tell them what their story is because that usually guarantees they will stop talking to me. I sit and let them talk to me. If they seem to head down a rabbit trail, I will remind them where we were and what they were saying, but I never change what they have to say.

I am a writer, and this is my dream.

Congratulations. You have just received a post card from the muse.

Movie Quotes


Movie Quotes

By Nandy Ekle

“I’m too old to be young and too young to be old.” Fried Green Tomatoes

“He left you when he went to seek his god, I lost him when he found him.” The Ten Commandments

“To live! To live would be an awfully big adventure!” Hook

“Just think. One day we’ll be buried here, side by side, matching coffins, our lifeless bodies rotting together for all eternity.” The Addams Family

“As you wish.” The Princess Bride

“I don’t think we’re Kansas anymore, Toto.” The Wizard of Oz

“Here’s my hat, Horace. I’m staying where I’m at, Horace. Dolly’ll never go away again.” Hello Dolly

“It’s a jolly holiday with Mary.” Mary Poppins

“That massive spider jumped on me and went straight for my jugular.” Ghost Adventurerers

“I am what I am!” Popeye

“Here’s Johnny!” The Shining

“No other factory in the world mixes their chocolate by waterfall.” Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory

“Freedom!” Braveheart

“Anybody want a peanut?” The Princess Bride

“I see dead people.” 6th Sense

“This quarter, this quarter here is my wish, and it didn’t come true. So I’m taking it back. I’m taking them all back.” The Goonies

“Holy rusted metal, Batman!” Batman and Robin

“There is no spoon.” The Matrix

“Life is like a box of chocolates. You never know what you’re gonna get.” Forrest Gump

Congratulations. You have just received a post card from the muse.


             A Job Done Well

                By Nandy Ekle



As an adult, my favorite book to read to my kids and grandkids is Where the Wild Things Are. I love reading this with all the drama I can muster. And the kids have all seemed to love it as much as I do. Last January, my eight-year-old granddaughter, who reads on a college level herself, asked me to read her a story. The book she handed me was Where the Wild Things Are. My heart melted. Needless to say, I read it to her and her brother, and then she read it to me.

Congratulations. You have just received a post card from the muse.

Book Review – The Headless Cupid


Book Review – The Headless Cupid

By Nandy Ekle


The thing I loved about The Headless Cupid was the humor. This was the story of a blended family, which was just becoming a common situation back in the early 70’s. A widower with four children married a divorced woman with one daughter. The daughter was the same age as the oldest sibling of the four, but being an only child, she didn’t know how to fit into a large family. She puts on airs of being involved in the occult, which was also a buzz word around that time.

The story is told in the oldest sibling’s point of view. He has become the care taker of the younger siblings since their mother’s death and he just wants peace and friendship. He wants his new step-sister to feel like part of the family and decides to g along with her in her search of the occult.

It’s the younger siblings who provide the humor as they approach the whole thing as a game. The book also has some intense moments as they deal with a poltergeist.

Congratulations. You have just received a post card from the muse.


Book Review Introduction


Book Review Introduction

By Nandy Ekle


I learned to read early and I learned early why reading is fun. I remember the primers. Our school didn’t have Dick and Jane and Spot. We had Jeff, Mary, Mike and Bingo (B-I-N-G-O, and Bingo was his name, oh!)

I remember getting books from the public library, school library, and from the Scholastic company. Back in the late 60’s and early 70’s, books like Mrs. Pigglewiggle, Amelia Bedelia, Encyclopedia Brown, and Little House on the Prairie were all the buzz with kids my age. And I read them all and loved them all.

Then I discovered a specific author who had written several books. Zilpha Keatley Snyder. After Dr. Seuss and Laura Ingals Wilder, Zilpha Keatley Snyder was the next author to take my breath away. I read The Headless Cupid, The Velvet Room, The Changeling, The Witches of Worm, and The Egypt Game. To a choose a favorite of those would be like choosing a favorite out of my children.

When It’s Good, It’s Very Very Good; When It’s Bad, It’s Horrid

Post Cards From the Muse

When It’s Good, It’s Very Very Good; When It’s Bad, It’s Horrid

By Nandy Ekle


And, of course, I’m ranting about the computer. In today’s world, a simple pen and paper, or even a typewriter are archaic and hardly even worth thinking about. The corporation I work for during the day loves to think of itself as paperless, except for the actual letters we print to send to our clients. For old timers like me, those of us whose favorite things in the whole world are gel pens and Big Chief Tablets, this has taken a lot of work to appreciate.

And so, everything in the world is on a computer, out in cyberspace, up in the cloud. And in most cases this is very convenient and freeing. I especially like being able to do my research for a story sitting own my couch in the living room. I love being able to have all my tools in my lap because it all weighs less than five pounds. And most of all, I love having unlimited books, unlimited blank sheets of paper, and unlimited kegs of ink to use whenever and however I want. For these reasons, I love my computer, at work and at home.

But then there are the times when the computer refuses to work. These are times when my day job is totally crippled, even completely shut down. And the things available on my home computer are a distraction to my stories.

And those are the times that remind me of the poem of the little girl with a curl in the middle of her forehead. When she was good, she was very very good. But when she was bad, she was horrid.

Congratulations. You have just received a post card from the muse.


The Next Part

Post Cards From the Muse

The Next Part

By Nandy Ekle


Sigrun crouched in the corner of the dark house. She had lived there longer than there was a house with a dark corner. She had been tiny then, just an insignificant dot amid all her brothers and sisters. She remembered how they constantly ran over her, stampeding their way through the woods. When the last of them was gone, she took a deep breath and stretched her legs. This area was hers. And good riddance to them all. She preferred to hunt alone.

But that had been so long ago. She had never heard from them again. From time to time she saw someone who might have been familiar, but she didn’t call out their name to see if they were her kin. Really and truly, she didn’t care.

But now, slinking into the dark corner of the empty house, she felt a slight bit of loneliness. Ages and ages alone, no parents, no siblings, no lover, not even an enemy around her. Occasionally an inferior would wander into her path and trip her traps. When that happened she was happy to unleash them—for a time. She listened to them cry and babble. They screamed, they groveled, they threatened her, and then they whined and sobbed. And when they got to that point, she killed them. Then she would be alone again.

Her stomach growled. Thinking back, it was nearly a year since her last meal. Had she really hidden in the corner of this old house that long without eating? Rubbing her eyes, she ventured out and began preparing a trap for a meal.