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E.M. Sanchez and the Broken Bird Feeder

Mysteries and tuna are two of P.I. Sanchez’s favorite things, but not necessarily in that order. Teamed up with her partner Web, the famous yellow bird, there isn’t a case in nature these two can’t solve. In the first of this new children’s series, the duo take on a case of a broken bird feeder in the community. Can they solve the mystery and still find enough time for E.M. Sanchez to nap? Find out November 23, 2021! Pre-order at your local bookstore today!

Congratulations, Christopher and Kim!

You travel down that road
and back again
so many times,
all on your own.
All those miles
between now and then,
flags on the play,
your heart out on loan.

Did you ever suspect,
that seat right next to you
was waiting for the one
who makes your soul feel new?

Turn the radio up,
let the engine roar,
the road is wide open,
and your journey awaits;
no matter the hazards
two hearts can soar,
and never forget
what love creates.

Did you ever suspect,
that seat right next to you
would hold the one you love
on this journey made for two?

© Autumn Siders 2021

The Divide

Agreeing to disagree is avoiding the problem. There are some issues that warrant a difference of opinion and others that are absolute in nature. Some matters to be debated: taxes, healthcare, the salaries of politicians. Some matters that are absolute: equal rights for all, saving the environment, knowing that the following performance is mediocre at best, but contains a highly important message.

If you can’t listen, you can’t change. If you can’t change, you can’t move forward. If you can’t move forward, think about where that leaves you.

Enjoy, share, cringe at my voice, but no matter how it makes you feel, listen.

The lyrics will be in the upcoming collection of poetry, “She Loves Me, She Loves Me Not.”

She Loves Me, She Loves Me Not

With the start of a new year, I am happy to announce that I’ve got several projects in the works. While a few may take years, others may be out in 2021! It all depends on how busy I remain at my back-up job of bookselling. The first book that might make it to the shelves this year will be another collection of poetry called She Loves Me, She Loves Me Not. This is a poem that will be in the collection and to be honest, one of my favorites so far. Enjoy!

Mother Nature’s Divorce

She’s hopeless, you know.
How many times has She
tried to kick him out now?
He keeps saying he’ll change,
the lying drunk,
the destructive fuck.

“I’ll do better,
You’ll see.
I’ll clean up my act,
I’ll plant a tree.”

His flowery language
sure to wilt
by the last breath
of his drastic lilt.

She got mad, sure.
She threw it all at him,
the vase, the heat,
the viral masterpiece.
He dodged left, then right,
then finally brought to his knees,
his face, a mask, of death,
uttered words to please.

“I love You, it’s true,
I couldn’t live without You.”

I keep hoping She’ll change
because I know without a doubt,
She could be surprised
at what She can live without.

©Autumn Siders 2020

Coming Soon!

Shake up Shakespeare with this humorous tale of the human reproductive system. You may know the story of “two star-crossed lovers,” but you haven’t heard a “tale of more woe, than this of Juliegg and her Spermeo.” Characters from several different works by the Bard come together in this play that is not only witty, but educational. If you have ever wanted to know more about how babies are made (or not made), there is no better way to learn than through tragic characters and iambic pentameter. This is a tale, truly older than time! *Bonus material from Emilita!*

Sneak Peak of “Revolutionary”

No one ever means to fall in love; it just happens. Cliché, I know. In all my years roaming the earth, I was always under the assumption that it would never happen to me. But in all those years, I have learned never to assume.
I was born in New Town, Pennsylvania in 1757. I was born a free black man, which didn’t mean much in the mid-eighteenth century. If anything, I had to be more careful. Sometimes, I thought that white men only gave privileges so that they could take them away one day. I guess that’s true of anyone in power.
I was luckier that most though. My mother died in childbirth, and I was taken in by a peaceful Quaker family. This would not have been the case for most black men, but my mother was white and as long as I kept my mouth shut and worked hard, folks would look past my less-than-white skin. By look past, I mean it was as if I didn’t exist at all.
I came of age during a time when revolution was stirring and a new nation was blooming. I longed to be a part of the action, but my adoptive family frowned on violence. They weren’t loyalists, but many of the Quaker families in the area were. They didn’t believe in British rule; they just didn’t want to rock the boat.
Shortly after my eighteenth birthday, news reached us that the war had begun. British troops had attacked colonists in Massachusetts. More importantly, the colonists fought back that day. Tensions were high, and despite my Quaker upbringing and my family’s objections, I wanted to be a part of the revolution. I was one of those foolish enough to believe that freedom from the British would mean freedom for all.
That summer, I joined the associators when they regrouped. It felt good to be involved in the cause, however, I was merely enlisted as the help. All anyone seemed to do was talk while I was busy serving these talking men. I couldn’t have been farther away from the action. This didn’t stop my family from wanting nothing to do with me.
A year went by, and then excitement came to New Town. General Washington made his headquarters in town after a battle at Trenton. Riding on the coattails of victory and finally seeing my opportunity to join the war on the frontlines, I officially enlisted and traveled with Washington’s men to Morristown for the winter.
My three years in the continental army were both exhilarating and disappointing. I had many close calls and almost lost my life to smallpox. I returned home to New Town a changed and defeated man. The excitement I once craved left a bitter taste in my soul. I had seen death and brought death to many, and there was nothing exciting about either.
I got a job on a farm outside town and decided that my Quaker upbringing hadn’t been all that bad. It wasn’t peace with the world that I needed, but rather peace with myself. As it turns out, personal wars can be endless and all-consuming too.

Read the full story in Not My Type, which goes on sale June 9th!