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Here’s something new I’m going to do, not every Monday, but from time-to-time. To cheer you all up about it being Monday, I’m going to reward you for reading my blog. All you have to do is leave a comment, so I can add your name to a randomizer to win a signed copy of my book, Love Caters All, or of Left of the Rising Sun, if you are in the United States or Australia. If not, I’ll gift you an e-copy in the format of your choice.

Thanks for visiting, and enjoy your day.

I wanted to let you all know about an opportunity to flex your creative wings. With this contest, you have a chance to win a beautiful book, (including one of the ones I edited), and to have your winning piece published on the Poetry Sans Frontieres website (http://poetrysansfrontieres.weebly.com/contest-page.html).

This contest is for 500 words of poetry or prose. Here is the prompt, which you must respond to in your entry:

“I had gone to no such place but to the smoke of cafes and nights when the room whirled and you needed to look at the wall to make it stop, nights in bed, drunk, when you knew that that was all there was, and the strange excitement of waking and not knowing who it was with you, and the world all unreal in the dark and so exciting that you must resume again unknowing and not caring in the night, sure that this was all and all and all and not caring.”

― Ernest Hemingway, A Farewell to Arms

I loved this little cafe. The fellow working there was so nice. I was going to get a mini eclair, but he recommended the mini cinnamon roll, saying it was traditionally Swedish and that his mother makes them. (Not the ones in the cafe, but ones like the ones in the cafe.)

To translate a bit, Jarnstorgsgatan means Iron Square’s Street. It is in Gamla Stan, which is old Stockholm. This little square with all the cafes and restaurants is at the end of the street, or the beginning, depending on how you look at it.

Who’s she?!

Me.

Why????

Because I intend… I can’t say dream after my big manifesto about dreams, ha ha! (Hint, I still have dreams. Of course.) Anyway, I intend and hope to write hundreds of books, short ones, long ones, tall ones, fat ones and skinny ones. Mostly I think they will fall into two groups that might appeal to different people or the same people in different moods. To facilitate browsing among these future multitudes, I made a new name. It’s actually my real name, at least the first name, that is. (Nia is short for Ántonia, which is from My Ántonia by Willa Cather. Yes my mom was an English major.)

If you would like to take a peek at what’s going on under my alter ego, please check out www.antoniamoran.com.