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Dreamcatcher by Neetu

May 26, 2024 by in category Poet's Day by Neetu Malik tagged as , , , ,


she gathers dreams that were
shattered in the last storm
fragments burnt and charred
when lightning struck, turned
an armful of hopes to ash—
she laces them into a willow hoop

torrential rain doused the fire;
shards and broken bits remained—
she spread them upon fine muslin
woven with fibers she had spun
on the wheel of an aching heart

until the storm passed and the sun
stretched out its golden arms
to weave those dreams back together
into different shapes
draped in morning dew
they shone again.

© Neetu Malik

Some of Neetu’s Books

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September 25, 2023 by in category Infused with Meaning by Kidd Wadsworth tagged as ,
Photo by Tom Barrett on Unsplash

This is a true story.

Two nights ago, I had a dream I could fly. I opened my arms wide, pulled the wind toward me and felt my feet lift off the ground. It was glorious. With my engineering-trained mind I quickly sought practical applications.

First, my husband and I went out at night—so the neighbors wouldn’t see—and I picked all of the apples, red and ripe, off the top branches, dropping them one by one into my husband’s waiting hands. Next, I inspected the flat portion of our roof. Never buy a house with a flat roof. We worry about that 10 x 10 section constantly. Then I decided to fly out to Seattle to visit my son. But about three minutes into the flight—I was traveling at approximately 10miles/hour—I realized that Seattle is 3000 miles away. That’s a 300 hour flight.

Hearing a roar overhead, I decided to fly into the clouds and hitch a ride on a passing jumbo jet.


Those things travel at 600 miles/hour. My head would get blown off.

I suppose even flying has its practical limitations.

In the final image of the dream, I was in the future and my son had a three-year-old daughter. I had volunteered to watch her for the day. As the scene opened, we were gleefully jumping on my son’s bed. Then I taught her to fly. “Open your arms, like this.” I opened my arms, “and pull the wind to yourself.” How quickly she learned.

“Flying is so much fun, Nana.”

When I woke, I immediately understood the dream. I can do the impossible. The choice is mine.

Last night, I had a second dream. I was agitated and rushed. I slipped the car into reverse, stomped down on the accelerator and backed out of the parking space so recklessly that I plowed into the car behind me one row over. Crying and distraught, I called the police and reported the accident. My silver Chevy Malibu—a huge tank of a car with bench seats and a V8—was undamaged. The next morning, again jittery and overwrought by . . . whatever . . . I backed out and hit another car. That night I hit a third vehicle in exactly the same way, this one belonging to Omar, a guide who had been helping me by showing me around town. “You totaled my car!” He grabbed his head in distress. “How am I going to get to work!”

I was taken before a judge.

“I’m so sorry. I was stupid. This is all my fault.”

She took away my driver’s license.

“I don’t know why I did this. I was just so upset and angry.”

I was sentenced to counseling. “You could have hurt someone,” she said. “When I’m satisfied you’re no longer a danger, I’ll give your license back.”

I woke. Immediately, I understood the dream. I am powerful. I can use my power to destroy things and hurt the people I love.

The choice is mine.

My power is my creativity. Most importantly my power is my writing. With my stories I can reveal truth to those who would hide from it. I can comfort the soul of a hurting person. I can unveil oppression. I can say, I understand, and I stand with you. With my stories I give my heart word-wings to fly where I cannot go. And on these wings my readers soar to longed-for futures.

Or I can ravage tender souls with hate and lust and violence.

The choice is mine.

~ Kidd Wadsworth

Kidd’s Stories are in the following anthologies

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Dreams in Writing

July 25, 2023 by in category Infused with Meaning by Kidd Wadsworth tagged as , , , ,

I woke at two in the morning from a nightmare in which I was being hunted by an assassin. In the dream, desperate to get away, I hid on the third floor of an abandoned building. I remember looking out the dirty windows and seeing the assassin below in the parking lot looking up at me. He was tracking my cell phone.

I removed the sim card and, just for good measure, smashed the phone.

Two days later, he almost caught me hiding in a bakery. The owner, an old friend, came rushing into kitchen whispering, “The man you described just walked through the front door.” I ducked out the back and hid on the fire escape. As he left, I saw him glance up at the street cams.


I hitchhiked into the Indiana countryside. I figured I was safe among the endless fields of ten foot tall cornstalks. I was wrong. As I turned and ran, he shouted after me, “You’ll never get away, I’ve tapped into the satellites.”

That’s when I woke up. Everything was familiar: my bedroom, my sweetie softly breathing beside me. I wasn’t afraid; I was curious. How would I evade an assassin? I turned to that great fountain of wisdom, the TV. As my husband slept, I searched Netflix and Amazon Prime for a movie that would show me how to escape.

Click. Click. Click.

I clicked almost as many times as Indiana has ears of corn. Then I discovered a Bruce Lee movie! Yes! Surely, Bruce would know how to evade an assassin.

Guess what? Bruce Lee never evades. He never hides. He confronts his enemies. He turns to face them, looks them straight in the eye, and kicks butt.

That’s when I knew who the assassin was. My assassin was a family problem. Yes, I wanted to hide. And yes, I definitely wanted to smash my cell phone, but I couldn’t get away. I had to become Bruce Lee. I had to face my problem head on. I needed to look it in the eye—and kick butt.

So, why did I tell you this?

I recently read a fascinating book called Dreams: God’s Forgotten Language by John A. Sanford. I believe dreams can add depth and, strangely, genuineness to a story. But there’s a catch, and it’s a big one. You’ve got to get it right. Dreams follow certain patterns—unobvious patterns—that we all instinctively recognize. So, if you want to put a dream sequence in your story, read an authoritative book about dreams and common reoccurring images in dreams, first. Otherwise, the dream won’t read as “real.” Rather it will seem contrived, a way too convenient plot device, and pop the reader right out of the story.

BTW, I did actually dream about being hunted by an assassin, and I do think my subconscious was telling me to stop running away from my problems. I’m currently working on becoming Bruce Lee, but he’s a difficult act to follow.

Happy Writing!

Kidd Wadsworths Has Stories in the Following Anthologies

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Snow Angel by Neetu

December 26, 2020 by in category Poet's Day by Neetu Malik tagged as , , , , ,
a woman making a snow angel

Snow Angel

I shaped you in the snow
the last time it descended
from the misty sky above

gentle flakes fluttered
settled thickly upon barren earth—
forming soft cloud comfort

I carved a dream
with my happy soul, smiling,
my eyes searched the universe

there were no stars that night–
just a crystalline radiance, in which
I molded the dream.

© Neetu Malik

Some of Neetu’s Books

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November 10, 2019 by in category Charmed Writer by Tari Lynn Jewett tagged as , , , ,

I’ve wandered down the rows of bookshelves in libraries and bookstores so many times in my life, fantasizing about what it would feel like to see my book on one of those shelves, hold a book with my name on it in my hands, sign books for readers, and maybe, just maybe get fan letters.

Last year my first book was published, and this year it was released in print. I’m still excited to see my name on the front of the book…and inside. And, I’ve signed books. Yes, it’s true! I’ve signed dozens of books this year. But a couple of weeks ago, I got my first fan letter…from an unexpected reader.

#PleaseSayYes is book 1 in the 6 book #HermosaForTheHolidays series. It’s a sweet romcom. I wrote it for adults of all ages…think Hallmark movie. Sweet, light, hopefully a heartwarming read that might even make you laugh. And adults of all ages have read it, young single women, young mothers, a few men, and grandmothers into their 80’s have read this story, but what I didn’t expect was  kids reading the book after all it is a romance. I’ve had a review from a 12 year old, and my first fan letter was from a 9 year old girl. She wanted to share the book with her class.

So, of course, I’m sending her 6 books, so she can keep her copy. And what she doesn’t know, is that in the upcoming release of book 2 #SilverBracelets, she is a character in the story. I had so much fun including her, and I hope she enjoys it as much as I enjoyed receiving her letter.

One more fantasy to fulfill, to see my books in bookstores. I’m feeling pretty good about the dreams I’ve checked off, but I think the one I’ll treasure most is this letter from my young reader.

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