Rebecca M. Douglass, Author

Rafting the Grand Canyon, Days 9 & 10. This trip was April 3-18, 2021, with AZRA--Arizona Raft Adventures. See previous reports: Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Day 9:  This was another day when our hiking plans were skunked by other rafters who beat us to the landings. A general courtesy of the river is not to pile on, except at a few "must see" stops (Redwall Cavern and Deer Creek Falls seem to be the main ones). Morning in the boat. We had a number of substantial rapids: Fossil, Specter, and Deubendorff, and especially Bedrock, which gave everyone an interesting ride. Our one very small "hike" did impose on another camp, so I take it this is another "must". We walked 1/4 miles up Stone Creek to a beautiful "shower." Yes, we "showered" with our clothes on, though most people removed their hats!  We are now in the heart of the Vishnu schist. The black is actually a subset of the Vishnu, the Brahma schist. The pink is Zoroastrian granit

 It's time for the bi-monthly WEP challenge. This year's prompts are all from famous paintings, interpretation up to us, of course. Here's the June prompt: WEP Challenge are open to anyone. Post during the 3-day posting window, then link back to the WEP post page, and visit the other writers to enjoy a bunch of great stories! Read more about it here . 920 words, FCA     Great Wave The hooded figure was reported to have visited the same rocky point on the shore every day for a week. Always at high tide, and carrying a large pack. It wasn’t that no one knew who it was; there were no strangers in the tiny coastal town. Nor did anyone wonder about the hood. Any sensible person outside was wearing a hooded rain parka, and rain pants as well. The question everyone was asking was what Mildred Perkins thought she was doing out there in the rain and crashing surf, and what she had in her pack. There was some attempt to speculate that she was engaged in some form of smuggling, but th

I've been off seeing my younger son graduate from university, so what better way to celebrate than by finally releasing my mystery collection!   It's out, it's today, and it's the 4th (and last for now) book in my collection of collections. Amazon Smashwords   Nine tales of murder and mayhem, from the classic to the absurd. Can detective L. R. Hen discover who is committing the notorious Cackling Murders? Have the waters of lakes and rivers washed away all the clues in several damp cases? And just what can motivate a brainless thug to care about something? All these cases and more are solved in this quick, fun collection of stories by the author of the Pismawallops PTA mystery series.   Order your copy today! Just 99 cents at all ebook retailers. And please, consider leaving a review when you are finished.

I'm off celebrating my youngest son's university graduation. While I'm busy, I hope you enjoy this story from 2015!   The Gods' Own Keeper Osbert Godskeeper scurried across the Great Hall of Chaotica. Orgo and Hempto were fighting again, and Osbert had no desire to get caught between those two. Neither had learned the control proper to a god, and Orgo tended to leak lightning when he got mad. Hempto was worse. He smoked. Not his pipe, which was bad enough--the gods’ herb of choice stunk, as far as Osbert was concerned. But when Hempto was upset, smoke came out of every orifice. It stunk even worse than his pipe, or Chacto the Great's cigars, and it burned. Hempto was a fire god, and nothing but trouble.   When he had reached the far end of the hall and the safety of his office, Osbert’s manner changed. No longer a frightened, scurrying figure, he stood erect and took firm hold of his microphone, scowling fiercely at the battling behemoths.  

World-building the next novel The germ of my next novel has been in my head for well over a year, but forcing it into some kind of shape has been surprisingly hard. I have some ideas for a couple of reasons for this. For one thing, we can fall back on the ways that grief, loss, and trauma have messed with my head. Focus has never been my strong suit, and it's worse now.  I think that the issues with creating a new world go beyond that, though. I've been writing books in the Pismawallops PTA series for about 7 years, with some ventures back into the world of the Ninja Librarian. In other words, I haven't had to create a story-world from scratch in a very long time. In fact, the last time I did so was the goofy fantasy world of Halitor the Hero --published in 2014 (and I think drafted in 2013 or earlier--probably right after Return to Skunk Corners and while I was working on Death By Trombone ).  All of which is to say: the last time I created a new world, I was a different w

  Title: Raven's Witness: The Alaska Life of Richard K. Nelson Author: Hank Lentfer. Read by Basil Sands Publication Info: 2020 Tantor Audio. 8:29. Original 2020 by Mountaineers Books. 256 pages. Source: Library digital resources Publisher’s Blurb: Before his death in 2019, cultural anthropologist, author, and radio producer Richard K. Nelson's work focused primarily on the indigenous cultures of Alaska and, more generally, on the relationships between people and nature. Nelson lived for extended periods in Athabaskan and Alaskan Eskimo villages, experiences which inspired his earliest written works, including Hunters of the Northern Ice.     In Raven's Witness , Lentfer tells Nelson's story--from his midwestern childhood to his first experiences with Native culture in Alaska through his own lifelong passion for the land where he so belonged. Nelson was the author of the bestselling The Island Within and Heart and Blood . The recipient of multiple honorary

I keep thinking I can cover more than 2 days in a single post, but there are so many photos, and we did so much! So forgive my self-indulgence and be patient as I work my way down the river. For Zeke, I'm adding info about our camps and stops. Day 7: This was a day for an early start, due to the logistics of running a river whose flow is controlled by a region's power needs. Crystal Rapids is a notoriously challenging stretch, and is easier at low water. Thus we were hurried along to get to the rapids before the morning's release from the dam (to power the SW) reached that stretch of the river. We left camp at 8 a.m. and headed straight into Boucher Rapids, leaving us all cold and wet (especially those in the bow of the boat).  Ready to shove off after a night on a wind-blown sand dune.  Of course, I don't really have any photos of going through the rapids, since I was too busy hanging on. I was more likely to get photos when we paused below a rapid to keep an eye on th