About Meraz Storyteller

Hello! I'm a fiction writer. See my books on Amazon and other online bookstores. Most are in paperback, Kindle, and Nook (and more).

Esther Williams, swim star. A comment

Esther Williams
A comment

Esther Williams passed away today. When I was a kid in the 50s, she was a favorite of mine. Here’s a snip of what I wrote about her in my YA book, As Brown As I Want; The Indianhead Diaries:

…At the beginning of the wildlife refuge, there’s a beautiful pond on the top of a red sandstone hill. It’s my favorite spot. The water is clear and deep and the whole edge is surrounded by huge red, sandstone boulders. It’s the kind of place Esther Williams would like to do the backstroke in with a gardenia behind her ear, except I don’t think she’d like the snakes…

Rest in peace, Esther. You were one of the few real, true Hollywood stars. Janelle


www.janellemerazhooper.com  See my books and short stories!

 

 

And now, a few words about Oklahoma tornados…

 

This excerpt is from my YA book As Brown As I Want: The Indianhead Diaries. It was a finalist in the 2004 Oklahoma Book Awards. Suitable for YA and up readers. PB & Kindle.

See the book on Amazon!

…We’re not allowed to play in the bomb shelter. Too bad, because it would make a dandy clubhouse. Mr. Thompson fixed it up real nice, with cots and Army blankets. He even put in a radio and a TV down there. It must be the fanciest bomb shelter in Oklahoma. It still has dirt walls and floors, though, so Lurlene’s mom didn’t bother to put up any pictures. I’m not sure if I’d want to be down there during an atomic bomb. Seems like all that noise might scare the scorpions and snakes and they might all head underground, right into that shelter. It’s something to think about, but Carlos and I are okay, anyway, because Mr. Thompson made it clear that when the bomb falls, or a big tornado comes through, only his family will be allowed in there. Everyone who has an underground shelter talks like that. They say it’s survival of the fittest, and some men even say they’ll shoot the first person that tries to get into their shelter when the bomb falls, especially if he’s colored. They don’t say so, but I’m sure they’d shoot us too. Just to be safe, Carlos told me not to ever go over there if I see a bomb coming, ’cause you never know. I asked Gramma where our bomb shelter was, and she said she hadn’t gotten around to digging it yet. I wish she’d get started while she’s got me and Carlos here to help her. She’s got a real big backyard. She could have the biggest bomb shelter in Lawton. We could keep Aunt Lilia’s watermelon pickles down there and also use it for tornadoes, of course. We get lots of tornados here, especially in the spring. My Gramma is pretty smart, I’m sure she can figure out a way to keep out the snakes and scorpions. I’m counting on Mom and Pete to keep out Dad and Frieda. Let ’em dig their own shelter…


Amazon, $2.99 USD, suitable for YA and up.


Awards:

1999 first place fiction, Surrey, Canada

2004 Oklahoma Book Award finalist


Janelle

www.amazon.com/author/janelle

 

Besotted! Historical romances have their own vocabulary. A comment

Besotted
A comment
Janelle Meraz Hooper
See my books here!

Historical romances are such a hoot! I love them! Even their vocabulary is different! It’s been way too long since a man’s been besotted with me. Actually, maybe never. Who can tell if besottment (is this a word?) is real? Have there been proven cases of fake besotting? I don’t know for sure but I’m convinced women were never besott in the Old West. Who could be besotted when she was wondering what that stuff on the bottom of his cowboy boots was that he was tracking all over her carpet? Did besottamahn ever happen in France? Beesasotta in Italy? Inquiring minds want to know!

Janelle

www.amazon.com/author/janellehooper

The Wedding Dress

Not published. I wrote this for this blog.

The Wedding Dress
A short story
See my books and short stories!

One of my readers has a wedding shop and I promised her a story about my mother, who was a seamstress…

My mother was an extraordinary seamstress and I based my novel, A Three-Turtle Summer on her and her sisters. Mom designed and sewed everything: cowboy shirts, golf pants, men’s sport coats, wedding dresses, clothes for disabled women, and more. Her sewing skills were ultimately what enabled her to escape a tormented, abused life with my father and start over.

When she retired, she was in her middle seventies. She came up from Oklahoma to Washington State to go with us to pick out my daughter’s wedding gown in a fancy shop in Seattle. It was a joyous occasion; my daughter was young and beautiful and the beaded silk gown she fell in love with circled her body in mounds of floating fabric like an angelic cloud. We were thrilled!

In the next dressing room, things were not so happy. The bride-to-be was no longer young and her body was no longer a size two, if it ever was. Even my mother, who was very hard of hearing, heard the distressed woman’s cries of disappointment. No salesperson came to help that poor woman in what should have been one of the happiest days of her life. She was old and overweight; they were busy catering to younger girls.

Mom tried to mind her own business, but she couldn’t. When she couldn’t take it anymore, she left us and peeked into the room next door to have a look for herself. All of the sudden, the crying and moans of despair stopped. My daughter and I went to see what was going on. Mom had marched into the room with a box of pins. With no introduction, she told the woman there was nothing wrong with her or the dress. It just needed to be properly fitted. Then she set to work pinning and fitting the dress to perfectly fit the woman’s body. As she pinned, she encouraged the woman and gave her hints about undergarments, jewelry, and hair style.

When she finished, the woman looked beautiful in her dress and was all smiles. Before she left, mom assured the future bride she was going to look beautiful on her wedding day, and the man she was marrying was going to love her in her beautiful gown.  The women who had come with her were smiling with relief. How surprised they all were when they learned my mother didn’t work there!

Janelle-  

www.amazon.com/author/janellehooper

www.JanelleMerazHooper.com

Valentine’s Day book, When Roosters Fly, Val Dumond

See the book on Amazon

When Roosters Fly
Val Dumond
www.ValDumond.com
Amazon, paperback $14.95 & Kindle $3.99

Here’s a Valentine idea! Looking for a love story about people old enough to be you in a few years? Not as impossible as waiting for a rooster to learn to fly. Check out Val Dumond’s new novella, When Roosters Fly.

A grumpy old pilot, disappointed he didn’t make aviation news back in the 1930s, meets an energetic woman (almost his age) who builds authentic replicas of vintage planes. She stirs hope in the pilot that he can realize his dream — along with a few other emotions. You don’t want to miss the “love scene” in the clouds!