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Tag: family

“Sleepy Tales” Almost Ready!

My bedtime storybook, “Sleepy Tales” is very nearly done! I’ve just got one more illustration to complete, and then, it’ll be ready for final review. I’m so excited! It’s a very cute book, I must say.

Just one of the ten stories!

Stay tuned! More details coming.

Happy Easter!

Christ is Risen!

Truly, He Has Risen!

Just a Reminder…

I’ve had this little book out on Amazon for a while now. Hope you’ve all had a chance to check it out. It’s really sweet; there’s a double story about the dangers that these beautiful ocean turtles experience – many lose their limbs to nets, fishermen’s nets that get caught up in their flippers.

Anyway, I just wanted to share my new video for book # 2 of Discovering Misty.

Please check it out! There’s some great reviews in Goodreads too.

Thanks all!

https://youtube.com/shorts/l5y01saAX8w?si=wiqfFpAOFkES6QY1

mibextid

https://a.co/d/0cAAqxcX

Happy St. Patrick’s Day!

To all you “Wearin’ the Green”…

And

The Magic of Runes in Modern Storytelling

As an author weaving tales of survival and mysticism, I’ve fallen in love with runes, those enigmatic symbols from our ancestors. Today, let’s explore how these ancient marks breathe new life into modern stories, drawing from their historical roots to inspire today’s readers and writers.

Imagine a world shattered by catastrophe, where survivors cling to fragments of ancient wisdom to forge their path forward. In my Zion series, a mysterious rune etched on a weathered stone whispers prophecies of hope amid the ruins. It’s not just a plot device—it’s a bridge to the past, pulsing with magic that feels alive on the page.

Runes aren’t mere letters; they’re portals to a bygone era. The Elder Futhark, the oldest known runic alphabet, emerged around 150-800 AD among Germanic tribes in Scandinavia and beyond.

Carved into wood, stone, or bone, these 24 symbols served practical purposes—like labeling possessions or commemorating the dead—but they also carried deeper, mystical connotations.

Derived from the word “rún” meaning “secret” or “mystery” in Old Norse, runes were believed to hold divinatory power. Warriors might consult them before battle, or shamans use them in rituals to glimpse the future.

Historians draw much of what we know from sources like the Anglo-Saxon Rune Poem and the Norwegian Rune Poem, which assign poetic meanings to each symbol.

Take Fehu, the first rune, shaped like a cattle horn: It represents wealth, prosperity, and the rewards of hard work.

Uruz, resembling an aurochs (a wild ox), embodies raw strength and endurance—perfect for tales of overcoming adversity.

Then there’s Ansuz, linked to Odin, the Allfather, symbolizing wisdom, communication, and divine inspiration.

These aren’t static definitions; they’re fluid, open to interpretation, which is why they fascinate storytellers like me.

In my Zion series—starting with Zion: The Beginning and continuing through the chronicles—I’ve adapted these runes to fit a post-apocalyptic landscape. Here, they’re more than historical nods; they’re survival tools.

Characters decipher rune-inscribed artifacts to unlock hidden bunkers or predict environmental threats, blending ancient lore with futuristic grit.

For instance, a protagonist might trace Uruz during a brutal storm, drawing on its energy to push through exhaustion.

This isn’t arbitrary—I researched authentic meanings to ensure they resonate authentically, then twisted them to serve the narrative. It’s like Tolkien did with his Elvish scripts or runes in The Hobbit, where they add layers of world-building that make Middle-earth feel timeless.

What draws me to runes in storytelling is their versatility. They’re visual poetry: Simple lines that evoke complex ideas, making them ideal for visual media like book covers or fan art.

In Zion, they symbolize resilience in chaos, mirroring real-world themes of adaptation in uncertain times. And honestly, incorporating them sparks my creativity—it’s like unlocking a secret code in my own writing process.

Speaking of process, let’s get practical. If you’re an aspiring writer eyeing mystical elements, runes are a goldmine. I start with research:

Books like The Rune Primer by Sweyn Plowright or online archives from museums provide solid foundations without overwhelming you. Then, I sketch them out—drawing Fehu or Ansuz helps internalize their shapes and energies.

One tip I had fun with: Try “rune journaling.” Each morning, pull a rune (you can use apps or make your own deck) and let it inspire a scene. Stuck on a character’s motivation? Draw Ansuz for a wisdom breakthrough. It’s a low-pressure way to infuse some Nordic or Celtic magic into your drafts.

In Zion, this method led to some of my favorite twists—like a rune that shifts meaning based on context, forcing heroes to question fate. It’s empowering: Runes remind us that stories, like real life, are woven from choices and interpretations. If you’re curious, grab a notebook and experiment— who knows what secrets you’ll uncover?

As we step into 2026, runes feel more relevant than ever. In a world buzzing with AI and rapid change, they ground us in human heritage while fueling imagination. Whether you’re devouring fantasy epics or crafting your own, these symbols endure because they tap into universal truths: Strength in struggle, wisdom in whispers.

From Book 1: Zion: The Beginning Of the 6-part Series “America’s Great Perfect Storm”

If runes have sparked your interest, let me know and when it’s ready, I will let you know.. You’ll dive into the Zion series on Amazon—start with Zion: The Beginning and see how these ancient marks shape a new world.

Share your thoughts in the comments: Have you used runes in your stories, or do they appear in your favorite books?

I’d love to hear! And stay tuned for more chronicles woven in runes—next up, perhaps a rune-deep dive on my upcoming podcast.

Thanks for reading, fellow adventurers. Until next time, may your paths be marked with prosperous runes.

It’s January! A New Year. A Time of New Beginnings

Maybe you’ll set a goal for this new year⁠. Some people choose a word to represent their intentions for the year ahead. This year⁠, our family will be focusing on the same verse of scripture: Moses 6:34⁠, “Walk with me.” This was an invitation given to the prophet Enoch.

As Enoch journeyed through the land, the Spirit of God rested upon him. Then the Lord spoke to him. He taught him about His plan of happiness, which would give purpose and meaning to life. Everyone longs to have better and deeper meaning and purpose in their lives. When the Lord finished describing His plan, He gave Enoch an invitation: “Walk with me.”

As you journey through this new year⁠, maybe you’ll find yourself looking for happiness, purpose, and meaning. We could all learn from Enoch’s story and invite the Lord to be part of our journeys this year⁠, no matter where we go…or stay.

As you might already know, I have been dealing with Chronic Kidney Disease. I’m thankful to still be here, as I’ve got much to do. I hope to use my time wisely, so I’ll be ready when the time comes.

You could choose to walk with Him. As you do, blessings await. I’m sure each of us will be better for it, if we determine for ourselves that we will walk with the Lord.

It’s going to be a good year⁠.

Navigating Grief During the Holidays: Finding Light in the Shadows

The holidays are often painted as a time of pure joy—twinkling lights, family gatherings, and cherished traditions. But for many, this season stirs deep sorrow. Grief doesn’t pause for celebrations; it can make empty chairs, familiar songs, and festive cheer feel like painful reminders of what’s missing.

Whether your loss comes from the death of a loved one, estrangement, divorce, health challenges, or even the family you wish you’d had, holiday grief is real and valid. Expectations of mandatory happiness, resurfacing memories, and cultural pressure for perfect togetherness can all amplify the ache.

“No Empty Chairs…”

The good news? You don’t have to force cheer or pretend everything’s fine. Grief and joy can coexist. Here are some gentle ways to care for yourself this season:

• Give yourself permission to feel. Cry if you need to, laugh if it comes naturally, or simply rest. No guilt required.

• Rethink traditions. Keep what comforts you, adapt what hurts, or skip altogether. Light a candle in memory, share a favorite story, or create something entirely new—like volunteering or a quiet day alone.

• Set kind boundaries. It’s okay to decline invitations, leave early, or ask for space from certain topics. Protect your energy.

• Speak your needs. Tell supportive people what helps: “This year is tough—let’s keep it low-key” or “I’d love to talk about them today.”

• Practice small self-care. Eat, rest, move, breathe. Honor your loved one through a donation, a special ornament, or playing their favorite music.

• Seek support if needed. Friends, grief groups, counselors, or online communities can lighten the load.

Christmas Dreams

If you’re supporting someone grieving, your presence matters most. Listen without trying to fix it. Acknowledge their pain. Offer specific help. Simply say, “I’m here for you.”

Grief changes the holidays, but it doesn’t erase meaning. In time, the sharp edges soften, and space opens for new warmth alongside the memories you carry.

The Magic of Christmas

This season, be gentle with yourself. Your feelings are valid, your love endures, and healing comes in its own quiet way.

Wishing you moments of peace amid the complexity. 🎄

Land of the Free, Because of the Brave

Land of the Free 

by S. M. Ulbrich

Tears stung Private Elena’s eyes as she knelt behind a crumbling wall, clutching her brother’s dog tags. The valley roared with the sounds of war, but her squad’s courage burned brighter. “For you, Miguel,” she choked, his sacrifice haunting her heart. The enemy surged, yet she rose, rifle trembling, driven by love for her fractured homeland. 

Bullets tore the air, but her resolve held firm. At dusk, the flag stood tall, stained with blood and hope. Elena sobbed, pride and grief entwined. This land, her home, was free–not by fate, but because of the brave who bled for it.

100 Word Flash Fiction contest entry. Recognized

Created With Nightcafe

Below is my Creation Listing for 2025. As you can see, I haven’t been using this tool very long, but I’m certainly enjoying it. The entries in the piece shows some of my books and yet-to-be published books of this year.

You can see Misty, the mermaid of the Emerald Coast, from my 2 children’s books of the same name. She’s chatting with 6-year-old George Washington and his buddy, the brave eagle.

Under that section, you’ll find the book cover for my Washington’s Fantastical Crossing, where he’s being watched by merfolk – I really hadn’t planned to write so many stories about merfolk!

The one at the bottom middle is part of my America’s Great Perfect Storm. The leopard and night-watchers are suggestive of Obama’s dream — more on that later.

The bottom left is from my YA speculative fiction, “The Covenant Fire”, a story about a team asked to locate and activate an ancient artifact, while avoiding the evil cabal chasing them to recover the artifact to use for their purposes. This artifact is meant to bring about the 2nd Resurrection and gather the Lost Ten Tribes.

“Pages Alight” is my forthcoming podcast on YouTube! Coming very soon.

creator.nightcafe.studio/creation/9P7SXN5m9VIVEBZ8XgHJ/my-2025-wrap

Thanks for reading!

Childhood Days in Louisiana

Happy Summer Days 

by S. M. Ulbrich

The good old days, a hazy glow,

When summers stretched and time moved slow.

We’d chase the sun through fields of green,

Laughter loud, the world unseen.

No screens to steal our fleeting gaze,

Just endless nights and carefree days.

The radio hummed, a simpler tune,

Beneath the stars, we’d dream the moon.

The Good Old Days contest entry
A prose in under 100 words or less.