Puerto Vallarta Writer’s Conference
We are accepting registrations for the Seventh Annual Writer’s Conference hosted by the Puerto Vallarta Writers Group to be held February 24-26 at the Biblioteca Los Mangos.
This year’s theme is ‘Selected Short Subjects’ and presenters include Jacqueline Mitchard, whose first book, The Deep End of the Ocean was named one of the most influential books of the past 25 years and was chosen as the first novel in Oprah’s Book Club. It was made into a feature film starring Michelle Pfeiffer. Jacquelyn will deliver the keynote address.
James Strauss, writer of the Doctor House Series and other Hollywood productions has written numerous books, including The Boy, Book One.
Eileen Obser, a long-time member of the PVWG teaches creative writing in the NYC area and will be giving several workshops. Workshops will include ‘Using Social Media’, “Writing Dialog’, Short Stories/Flash Fiction’, ‘Short Essays/ Journals’ and ‘Writing for Children’.
For the first time, we will have an agent in attendance. Marcy Posner of Folio Literary Management will be holding private sessions for those who have books to pitch.
More presenters will be announced shortly.
Cost for attendance is $110 U.S. or 1500 pesos until Feb 1. $115 or 1700 pesos after Feb. 1, 2012. Seating for speakers and workshops is limited so early registration will guarantee your participation.
Registrants will receive further e-mails to indicate workshop choices. Again, attendance will be limited so an early reply will guarantee your preferences.
Payments can be given to Maria Ruiz or, for those who are not here locally, direct deposit or PayPal. Please note: Using PayPal will cost an addition $5 in fees.
Contact Maria for instructions for direct deposit.
Maria’s email is mariaruiz102@gmail.com
PayPal payments should be made to the account of:
Theodore Druch
langton64@hotmail.com
Monday, December 5, 2011
Friday, November 18, 2011
Become a Reader and make money
Become a reader and make money. Read my book and be the first to find a spelling or punctuation error and I’ll pay you three dollars. My book….I’ll Be in the Fourth Grade Forever is available at the Kindle Store in Amazon or from Splashwords, both in ebook form
Friday, November 11, 2011
Look Out- Writing Prompt for week 11/6/2011
Look Out
Maria Ruiz
“Look out” Someone shouted. Sara Jensen turned her head to see who was shouting and missed her step. Her heel crumpled on the curb and she fell into oncoming traffic.
People standing at the corner with her, screamed as a taxi hit her. Her body was thrown several feet into the air, before coming to land in the next lane, where a bus ran it over.
No one noticed the light turn green. All movement at the corner stopped while cars slipped and ended up blocking traffic in all directions.
Several people rushed over to the body to see if something could be done for the woman. Others dialed 911 on their cell phones. Sirens could be heard on three streets, indicating help was arriving.
Someone noticed Sara’s purse, lying next to the curb with the broken heel. A hand reached down and picked it up.
“Hey.That belongs to the lady.” One person said.
“I’m just looking to see what her name is.” Came the reply.
“Well, I don’t think you should do that. The cops’ll be here and it’s their job.” The woman in a black hat said. “Give it here.”
The man holding the purse held it out to her.
The police arrived, Uniforms swiftly moved cars back and an ambulance stopped. The driver of the taxi was crying, his passenger was hysterical. Passengers from the bus were milling about while the driver puked at the curb.
It took about twenty minutes for the body to be loaded into the ambulance. Policemen snapped pictures, others wrote down names and addresses. One of the paramedics was walking the scene, and finally shouted “Has anyone seen this woman’s purse?”
One man shouted “Yes, it was here. I picked it up and gave it to that woman.” He turned to point her out but couldn’t see her. “The woman in the black hat.”
People turned, each searching for the black hat.. Not finding her, the paramedic shook his head, entered the ambulance and it started up..
Inside, the driver asked the paramedic “Find it?”
“Nope. Like always, the vultures beat us. If we weren’t so fast getting here, her shoes, coat and clothes would be gone. What a world.”
Maria Ruiz
“Look out” Someone shouted. Sara Jensen turned her head to see who was shouting and missed her step. Her heel crumpled on the curb and she fell into oncoming traffic.
People standing at the corner with her, screamed as a taxi hit her. Her body was thrown several feet into the air, before coming to land in the next lane, where a bus ran it over.
No one noticed the light turn green. All movement at the corner stopped while cars slipped and ended up blocking traffic in all directions.
Several people rushed over to the body to see if something could be done for the woman. Others dialed 911 on their cell phones. Sirens could be heard on three streets, indicating help was arriving.
Someone noticed Sara’s purse, lying next to the curb with the broken heel. A hand reached down and picked it up.
“Hey.That belongs to the lady.” One person said.
“I’m just looking to see what her name is.” Came the reply.
“Well, I don’t think you should do that. The cops’ll be here and it’s their job.” The woman in a black hat said. “Give it here.”
The man holding the purse held it out to her.
The police arrived, Uniforms swiftly moved cars back and an ambulance stopped. The driver of the taxi was crying, his passenger was hysterical. Passengers from the bus were milling about while the driver puked at the curb.
It took about twenty minutes for the body to be loaded into the ambulance. Policemen snapped pictures, others wrote down names and addresses. One of the paramedics was walking the scene, and finally shouted “Has anyone seen this woman’s purse?”
One man shouted “Yes, it was here. I picked it up and gave it to that woman.” He turned to point her out but couldn’t see her. “The woman in the black hat.”
People turned, each searching for the black hat.. Not finding her, the paramedic shook his head, entered the ambulance and it started up..
Inside, the driver asked the paramedic “Find it?”
“Nope. Like always, the vultures beat us. If we weren’t so fast getting here, her shoes, coat and clothes would be gone. What a world.”
Thursday, March 10, 2011
Urban Snakes
Our neighborhood is now almost ‘Urban Snakes’ free. Our rescued cat has cleaned out many nest of ‘Urban Snakes.’
Growing up in an urban setting, she had been deprived of hunting prey. That was until she discovered the endangered ‘Urban Snake.’
One night out she spotted the danger in someone’s yard. A waving, slinky, dangerous thing in the dark. She attacked, grabbed it by its neck and subdued it. Firmly held, she brought it home and with all the pride of a returning lion, she laid her prey at my feet.
It was a sock, a dead black sock. I hung the sock on the front gate, hoping its owner would claim it. Going house to house on three block I found no one missing any socks. No one claimed any of them. Eventually, I threw them away.
Over the next few months, we discovered an ‘Urban snake’ on our front walk from time to time. Black, gray or white, freshly laundered or dirty. Still no one claimes them. Today I walked out and discovered these. She had demolished a whole nest of snakes and brought them home.
Growing up in an urban setting, she had been deprived of hunting prey. That was until she discovered the endangered ‘Urban Snake.’
One night out she spotted the danger in someone’s yard. A waving, slinky, dangerous thing in the dark. She attacked, grabbed it by its neck and subdued it. Firmly held, she brought it home and with all the pride of a returning lion, she laid her prey at my feet.
It was a sock, a dead black sock. I hung the sock on the front gate, hoping its owner would claim it. Going house to house on three block I found no one missing any socks. No one claimed any of them. Eventually, I threw them away.
Over the next few months, we discovered an ‘Urban snake’ on our front walk from time to time. Black, gray or white, freshly laundered or dirty. Still no one claimes them. Today I walked out and discovered these. She had demolished a whole nest of snakes and brought them home.
Monday, February 28, 2011
American Dream
American dream
I thought I had a rotten life. I wasn’t a beauty. I wasn’t slim. My husband wasn’t perfect. My kids were typical, horrible and lots of work.
I had gotten pregnant, mostly so I could leave home and start my own family. Little did I realize at eighteen that I would not be a perfect mother myself. I probably scarred my own children at least as much as my parents had scarred me. I certainly wasn’t a perfect wife, which was proved by my divorce after sixteen years. Then, single again, I stumbled through affairs, a few broken hearts, and bouts of fright.
Somehow I found companionship, a couple of really good friends and a new life. It too was complicated by the everyday problems of work, budgets, and life in general.
Finally, at age 58, my life companion and I sold everything or gave it away and began a ten-year trip to see as much of the world as we could, on a very tight budget. That meant that we stayed in very low cost hotels, shopped in grocery stores and prepared out own meals. We rented apartments in Spain, Thailand, Kenya, and Argentina. We traveled by local buses, taxis, boats and whatever was going our way.
What I saw around the world opened my eyes. It didn’t matter that I thought my own parents had the parenting skills of a pumpkin. I had parents. I had grown up with three meals a day, a bed to sleep on, and clothes and shoes to wear. Too many children around the world didn’t have parents, food, clothes, or a bed.
I saw a three-year-old hauling water up a steep mountain to irrigate the plants. I saw women and children take off their shoes and walk to save the leather. I had gone to school. I attended a junior college and a University in the early years of my marriage. I saw children as young as four working all day weaving carpets in a “Job Training School.” Many children never attend any school.
We saw so many children playing catch with their flip-flops. They can never hope to receive a real ball. One little boy made his own toys out of straw and donkey dung, even the wheels. Toys are for the very rich.
I had chosen the boys to date and the one with whom I had gotten pregnant. So many girls in the world never have that choice. In some countries, the act of speaking with a strange boy can get them killed, an “honor killing.” I married my choice.
My husband applied for a number of jobs and chose one that would support me and the kids. Most places in the world, the boy goes into life doing what his father has done and his grandfather before him. He must not only support his wife and children but his parents and sometimes his grandparents. He has no choice.
I wanted and received a divorce. A very unusual gift in most of the world. I went out and found a job. A priceless thing for a woman to be able to do.
The more we traveled, the more we appreciated the greatness of being American. We had choices. Both males and females in America grow up with choices. We can choose to vote while so many are dying for the chance. We can marry or not, our choice. We choose our friends. We can make of our lives something to be proud of or not, our choice.
It is not the items we can buy in our stores, not the money we have, not the toys we buy for our children that make us American. It is our right to make the choices.
Our dreams may be for more money, health or wisdom but we already have the “American Dream.”
I thought I had a rotten life. I wasn’t a beauty. I wasn’t slim. My husband wasn’t perfect. My kids were typical, horrible and lots of work.
I had gotten pregnant, mostly so I could leave home and start my own family. Little did I realize at eighteen that I would not be a perfect mother myself. I probably scarred my own children at least as much as my parents had scarred me. I certainly wasn’t a perfect wife, which was proved by my divorce after sixteen years. Then, single again, I stumbled through affairs, a few broken hearts, and bouts of fright.
Somehow I found companionship, a couple of really good friends and a new life. It too was complicated by the everyday problems of work, budgets, and life in general.
Finally, at age 58, my life companion and I sold everything or gave it away and began a ten-year trip to see as much of the world as we could, on a very tight budget. That meant that we stayed in very low cost hotels, shopped in grocery stores and prepared out own meals. We rented apartments in Spain, Thailand, Kenya, and Argentina. We traveled by local buses, taxis, boats and whatever was going our way.
What I saw around the world opened my eyes. It didn’t matter that I thought my own parents had the parenting skills of a pumpkin. I had parents. I had grown up with three meals a day, a bed to sleep on, and clothes and shoes to wear. Too many children around the world didn’t have parents, food, clothes, or a bed.
I saw a three-year-old hauling water up a steep mountain to irrigate the plants. I saw women and children take off their shoes and walk to save the leather. I had gone to school. I attended a junior college and a University in the early years of my marriage. I saw children as young as four working all day weaving carpets in a “Job Training School.” Many children never attend any school.
We saw so many children playing catch with their flip-flops. They can never hope to receive a real ball. One little boy made his own toys out of straw and donkey dung, even the wheels. Toys are for the very rich.
I had chosen the boys to date and the one with whom I had gotten pregnant. So many girls in the world never have that choice. In some countries, the act of speaking with a strange boy can get them killed, an “honor killing.” I married my choice.
My husband applied for a number of jobs and chose one that would support me and the kids. Most places in the world, the boy goes into life doing what his father has done and his grandfather before him. He must not only support his wife and children but his parents and sometimes his grandparents. He has no choice.
I wanted and received a divorce. A very unusual gift in most of the world. I went out and found a job. A priceless thing for a woman to be able to do.
The more we traveled, the more we appreciated the greatness of being American. We had choices. Both males and females in America grow up with choices. We can choose to vote while so many are dying for the chance. We can marry or not, our choice. We choose our friends. We can make of our lives something to be proud of or not, our choice.
It is not the items we can buy in our stores, not the money we have, not the toys we buy for our children that make us American. It is our right to make the choices.
Our dreams may be for more money, health or wisdom but we already have the “American Dream.”
Wednesday, September 8, 2010
Discarded puppy after 4 weeks
We named the new puppy Stinky. She doesn't smell like she did when we found her (Very foul), she now smells like a puppy. Her rib bones have been replaced by a nice round stomach. Her legs must have springs as she dashes about. She discovered Muddy (the cat) which is her size and the playing was a joy to watch. When Stinky discovered Muddy's ears the play turned even more fun. When Stinky, who now plays with Muneca (the dog) ignores Muddy, Muddy is forced to leap upon Stinky, demanding her share of the play.
click on the Webshot pictures for updated photos and the wonderful box toy.
click on the Webshot pictures for updated photos and the wonderful box toy.
Tuesday, August 17, 2010
Discarded puppy
Last week, Monday the 16th, while I was walking our little poodle I saw a group of little boys by the community garbage drop. They were pulling on a black rope. I walked over and saw a horrible little dog, still alive, covered with flies and dirt. It was still alive. I rushed back home to get water, food and Ted. The little dog was too weak to eat or drink and we picked it up and took it to the vet. The dog is a five month old puppy, mostly starved and with a skin infection. It spent the night and next day getting IV's of fluid, antibiotics and shots for ticks, heartworn and anything else the vet could do.
We brought the little thing home on Tue and began the process of feeding. I pulled at least 300 ticks off, not counting the big ones the vet had removed. It was still covered with fleas. By Thursday it was well enough for a bath to remove the matts at the vets.
Today it is running around, not quite up to playing with our dog but playing a bit with the cat, who is a very gentle animal. I will post pictures on our webshots account.
We cannot understand how someone can throw a puppy, still alive, away on the garbage heap. We can understand how someone might not have the money to take it to a vet. However, this puppy had not been feed in many days. It boggles the mind to think how well this family takes care of it own offspring.
We brought the little thing home on Tue and began the process of feeding. I pulled at least 300 ticks off, not counting the big ones the vet had removed. It was still covered with fleas. By Thursday it was well enough for a bath to remove the matts at the vets.
Today it is running around, not quite up to playing with our dog but playing a bit with the cat, who is a very gentle animal. I will post pictures on our webshots account.
We cannot understand how someone can throw a puppy, still alive, away on the garbage heap. We can understand how someone might not have the money to take it to a vet. However, this puppy had not been feed in many days. It boggles the mind to think how well this family takes care of it own offspring.
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