Wednesday, March 15, 2006

If You Are a Woman

If you're a woman and you're 50+ years old, please consider submitting some of your writing to a magazine called Releasing times. It's a fairly new magazine published in Centerville, Ohio. I have recently spoken with the editor, and she says she is actively seeking writing.


Wenda said...

Theresa, Thanks for the lead.

V said...

Rats to me.
Go to it, ladies!!

TiAnKa said...

But Theresa, this year Christina and I will be the exact same I guess this leaves me out of the 50+ group. Darn!



Judith HeartSong said...

cool. Go gettum everybody!!!

ggw07 said...

Thanks so much Theresa! Gretchen

DesLily said...

some of us who read you are over 50? nooooooooooo lol...

Gannet Girl said...

Thanks, Theresa!

Wenda said...

Theresa, Thanks for stopping to comment on my beliefs blog and for the ideas you left there. I didn't know about the magazine. Sounds interesting.

Paul said...

Well, I'm over 50. Damned penis.

emmapeelDallas said...


Thank you so much for this link, and for your kind words. I think this is a GREAT idea for a magazine, and I'm definitely going to submit something, so thank you very much.




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"I was no better than dust, yet you cannot replace me. . . Take the soft dust in your hand--does it stir: does it sing? Has it lips and a heart? Does it open its eyes to the sun? Does it run, does it dream, does it burn with a secret, or tremble In terror of death? Or ache with tremendous decisions?. . ." --Conrad Aiken


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Fave Painting: Eden

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Fave Painting: The Three Ages of Man and Death

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by Albrecht Dürer

From the First Chapter

The Secret of Hurricanes : That article in the Waterville Scout said it was Shake- spearean, all that fatalism that guides the Kennedys' lives. The likelihood of untimely death. Recently, another one died in his prime, John-John in an airplane. Not long before that, Bobby's boy. While playing football at high speeds on snow skis. Those Kennedys take some crazy chances. I prefer my own easy ways. Which isn't to say my life hasn't been Shake-spearean. By the time I was sixteen, my life was like the darkened stage at the end of Hamlet or Macbeth. All littered with corpses and treachery.

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