Dear Readers…
Welcome to The Weekly!
You may be thinking, “Hold on. Wasn’t this called Talebones Weekly, before?”
And you would be right! But I’ve received some feedback that “Talebones Weekly” and “Talestack News” sound just a wee bit too similar to each other for comfort, so I’m going to try out just calling these little round-up missives The Weekly for a while, and see if it sticks.
I appreciate your patience with our growing pains!
August Is Coming!
If you can believe it, August is nearly upon us, and that means a whole new short story—our final one for the Summer Season!
August’s story is called The Gospel of Agnes Candle, and while it can stand alone it also functions as a second part to our July story, The Revelation of Scott Candle. Take a peek at our July story this week, if you haven’t already!
I’ll be sharing more details about our August story, an excerpt, and more in next Tuesday’s Weekly (along with some other cool announcements for August), so stay tuned and subscribe to stay updated!
Round-Up!
In case you missed it…
Something In The Water - In this piece of suspenseful flash fiction, a pair of crab-fishermen with dubious intentions wander into unfriendly waters.
Danger In The Woods - The seventh issue of our summer serial, Ivy & Ixos! Completely against her dad’s warning, Ivy’s escape took her deeper and deeper into the woods until she realized a terrifying truth: she was lost. And no one knew where she was.
Did you know that I also write nonfiction?
For those who are interested in how my beliefs inform my worldview, especially where the love for nature that you find glimpses of in my fiction intermingles with my faith, feel free to check out my other newsletter here on Substack, The Wildroot Parables! I post twice a week over there with poetry-based devotionals and essays on personal topics. We would love to have you join us!
And now, before you go, an excerpt from the upcoming issue of Ivy & Ixos…
Excerpt - “Mrs. Hatch Explains”
With one hand on Argus’s back and the other cradling Ixos, who sat fluffed with closed eyes in the crook of her arm like a baby chick, Ivy picked her way slowly and carefully back through the dark woods.
Even though she could see nothing, the forest felt less frightening with Argus near. His bristly ears swiveled at every night sound, and his muscles under her hand tensed, looking here and there for any danger. Things whispered and nickered in the unseen heights of the trees, little scuttlings in the distance, a sense of being observed, witnessed, watched. Once or twice Ivy caught sight of unblinking white eyes following their trail, keeping a safe distance.
But nothing challenged them. It was as if nothing would dare. So Ivy held gently onto Argus’s thick fur, and kept walking.
She trusted that Argus knew where he was going. When he had appeared beside the lake and chased away the shadowy shapes, Ivy had thrown her arms around him and hugged him for a long, long time, his panting breath in her ear as he patiently waited for her to cry into his shaggy shoulder.
But when she had collected herself, he had stood, walked a few paces away, and then looked back at her, as if willing her to follow. So she did.
Ivy didn’t know whether dogs were really smart enough to find their way home; she had only read about that kind of thing in books, or seen it in movies. But she hoped that Argus knew what he was doing.
Still, there was no path. Only wet underbrush and drooping fir branches, dripping with the day’s rain, and Ivy was so very tired. She didn’t know what time it was. She was so, so hungry. And she wondered what Pete could possibly be thinking.
As soon as I see him, I’m going to tell him I’m sorry, she thought, again, but the thought didn’t give her much comfort.
Ivy became gradually aware of a smell, something distinct rising above the usual loamy smells of the woods. Something a little sharper, a little harsher.
Smoke. The smell of woodsmoke from a chimney.
I'm looking forward to a night of reliving my 80s youth when I go see Duran Duran in September. The friend I'm going with is a good 30 years younger than me, so he's in for a treat when he sees me dancing all over to Girls on Film and Rio and all that stuff.
I am skipping the excerpt because I have a fragile ego and the tease is just too much. Not that it's a bad thing to include--I enjoyed them, but now I'm invested and it's like serving a steak one bite at a time. I want the whole thing!
I have finally learned to look for the question at the end! Seasonal activity--I am really hoping I get a chance to swim in the ocean before I move away and that becomes difficult. It's been my dream to sign off from work, bike to the beach, and dive in the water. I could do that at any time really. I don't know what's stopping me 🤔