canadian authors Archives - tiffanyprochera.com

Let the Whole You Be Revealed – Following the Opportunities

June 2, 2019 by tprochera Leave a Comment

Hello all!

Last weekend, I had the honour of hosting a launch of the latest issue of the Lake Winnipeg Writers Group journal, Voices, for which I also served as editor. (Photo courtesy of my proud mom ;-)) The process involved several months of reading and revising, e-mailing, chatting on the phone and in person at reading sessions and, I must say, I quite enjoyed it! It was a pleasure to witness such a diverse and talented group of creator in action.

But it was not something I had initially planned on, to be honest. I have done some proofreading for people I’ve known, which has been rather fun as I consider myself a fixer of sorts – someone who can take an existing idea and bring it to another level. The whole curation process, however, was new to me. But last fall I was asked to judge a poetry contest for the group and, next thing you know, I’m editing an entire journal!

I received much positive feedback on my work which, despite my own perceived failings, was very encouraging. Though I still have a lot to learn, editing appears to be something I can now add to my skill set. When it came time to discuss the launch of the journal, I was informed that it was customary for the president or the editor to take on the duties. With my background as a performer and the years I’ve spent in Toastmasters, I was up to the task.

And, again, the audience and fellow writers seemed to be pleased with my presence at the podium and responded very favorably. So, now, it looks like I can host stuff good too! 🙂

Now, I’m not telling you this is to brag on myself – although I think we need to be able to do that once in a while because it helps us to feel confident in our abilities. This is about allowing yourself to be guided, letting go of your preconceived notions of what you’re supposed to be doing with your art and saying yes to the opportunities that present themselves before you. If I hadn’t agreed to edit, I wouldn’t have known that I would enjoy it and be competent at it. If I hadn’t said yes to hosting, I wouldn’t have known that I could take on the emcee duties and feel good about it after the fact. It’s about acquiring new information showing you what you’re capable of and, perhaps more importantly, what you like to do.

Now, if you feel that these incidental endeavours might derail you or make you doubt yourself, quite the contrary. During this process of expansion, you won’t be casting aside what you already do and already know. You will be letting new things about yourself to be revealed to you so you have even more ways to serve and express.

When you stay with the familiar, you only learn and grow in expected ways. But sometimes others see things in us that we don’t see in ourselves and, in taking these new opportunities, we are exposing ourselves to more of our untapped potential. We experience the fullness of who we are and what we have to offer. And if you come upon your true calling in the process, trust that your new path is the right one for you and nothing has been lost or wasted.

So, next time a chance to do something new comes your way, unless it really makes you feel uncomfortable, go for it! See where the journey takes you. You never know what you will learn and how you will grow when you come out the other side.

On a related note, if you’re interested in some fun and adventurous writing, might I suggest acquiring your very own copy of the latest issue of the Voices journal – with an entry by yours truly, by the way?

You can purchase it at McNally Robinson Booksellers in Winnipeg, MB and at Tergeson’s in Gimli, MB or you can enquire through the LWWG website, https://www.lwwg.ca/.

Enjoy!

Finding Your Sweet Spot: Why Fame May Not Be What You Really Want

February 19, 2019 by tprochera Leave a Comment

Hello all!

So, I was in New York City last week – my first time in the Big Apple – and I had a blast! Caught up with old friends, saw some shows, went to museums, had high tea at the Plaza. The whole nine yards. It was thrilling to witness “the best of every industry”, as my friend put it, that was represented in this mythical city. Seriously – since I’ve been back, it seems that every TV show and movie takes place in New York.

But that’s not my point. My point is, while watching these truly talented performs strut their stuff on the Broadway stage, I couldn’t help but wonder, would I want to be doing that?

You see, many of us are programmed to crave the spotlight. We are taught that those we see most often – the Beyoncés, the Bradley Coopers, even the J.K. Rowlings (as famous as a writer can get) – are the most important people in our society and their status is the only measure of significance and success. We are told that if we desire anything in this life, it should be to be the focus of attention in the biggest arena possible.

Now, I’m not saying it’s necessarily a bad thing to go for fame or to want to be the front man. Some people are sincerely meant to be in that position and they inspire the world with who they are.

There are times, however, when the thirst for fame can be misguided – not because we may not be talented enough but because, if we really think about it, it’s not what we actually want. When we’re striving for anything, it behooves us to actually look into what is involved in living that life. For example, being a prima ballerina seems like a beautiful vision – and they do look lovely and strong – but if that’s what you want to be, be prepared for really sore feet, Like bleeding and blistered more often than not.

The shows that we saw on Broadway involved an incredible amount of physical activity ; not just two people sitting in chairs chatting away. And one of them, Harry Potter and the Cursed Child – completely brilliant, by the way – was constructed in two parts of three hours each. That’s literally six hours a day of running around and throwing suitcases and all sorts of crazy things! Would you be up for that? Would you be willing to move to a metropolis like New York if it meant being at the top of your field? It’s a big switch if you’re used to living in a small town. What about having to be “on” when you’re not feeling well? I remember watching a live broadcast from the Metropolitan Opera and, while the cast sounded glorious as always, there was so much sniffling and snorting backstage because most of them were sick.

There are often ways to adjust things to better suit our inclinations. For example, you can love singing but not love performing live so you could potentially consider becoming a studio musician. Or you can do community theatre as a hobby rather than going for a full-time career as an actor and all that comes with it. Even so, however, we can still look at where our real talents and inclinations lie instead of towing the party line of fame and fortune. Well, I say that but, in many cases, it’s the ones who don’t have the fame who are actually making most of the money so I’m not really sure why they put those two words together so often. But that’s another topic of discussion.

When I was in university, I went to see a counsellor on a regular basis. Hey, we all need someone to talk to at certain points in our lives. Anyway, there was a session when I when I expressed my confusion that I would be watching these people on stage and be totally captivated them but, at the same time, wasn’t sure if that was what I should, or wanted to, be doing. I knew could sing but was insecure about my voice at times, I wasn’t sure how I felt about travelling from place to place without fully experiencing it, being isolated, and I was adaptable to a certain extent but didn’t really like being up too late most of the time. I’m usually in bed at 10:00 most nights unless there’s a special event or something. So what was it that made me want to be these “rock stars”, for lack of a better word?

And then my counsellor suggested something I’d never thought of before. He suggested that perhaps I was meant to be behind the scenes but I was attracted to something else about these people, like their confidence or level of skill. It wasn’t the fact that they were performing so much as they knew they were meant to be performing and they were damn good at it. And, to someone like me who was in a state of flux, that knowing would be incredibly attractive. He made me realize that I could be that assured and skilled as a songwriter or a producer or a director or whatever and have that same sense of self-possession and satisfaction as those “rock stars” seemed to have.

Because, really, I will follow whatever path is right for me and if being in the public eye comes with it, I’ll accept that with grace and humility. But I don’t care if people are screaming my name. I don’t need to be chased down the street by mobs trying to get my autograph. I’m more interested in being respected in my industry, being the one who those in the know whisper about as I stand in line at the grocery store. “Do you know who that is? She’s the one behind <insert life-altering, world-enhancing creative experience here>.”

So, if you desire being in the spotlight and entertaining the crowds and honestly love it and all, or most, of what it entails, go for it. Reach for your marquee dreams and good luck to you. But if you’re at all feeling a sense of disconnect with your creative path, I ask you to consider what your soul is really craving, look at your true gifts and talents and what skills you’re willing to acquire, and learn to be at peace with that.

You may be a good guitar player but maybe you’d be an even better recording engineer or producer or even artist manager. You may be a decent novelist but you’d really be a brilliant journalist or editor. There are so many parts to play in this creative world, so many roles to fill, and none is more or less important or valuable than another, no matter what celebrity mags try to tell you and no matter how some of those celebrities – I won’t name names – like to give the impression that they do everything themselves .

I’ll leave you with this. We love our lives the most when we are giving the best of our authentic selves to the world, whatever that looks like. So don’t be afraid of discovering what you’re really here to do. You’ll only be happier for it!

In Swimming Tigress news, I’ve just put up some new tracks for licensing on Pond 5 . So, if you need music for your media production, whether it’s a commercial, TV show, web video or podcast, check out all available tracks here https://www.pond5.com/artist/tprochera#1 .

Have a fabulous day!

Tiffany

A little poetry anyone?

May 16, 2012 by tprochera Leave a Comment

Hi all!

Here is a poem that is being set to music for Tiffany Prochera’s upcoming collection of songs for intermediate vocalists. Enjoy!

I SHALL NOT IMPOSE A DESTINATION UPON THIS SONG

I will not impose a destination upon this song

Upon its creation or its presentation

Each word shall find a home

No melody is in vain

This song shall reach its own conclusion

A conclusion I may not and need not comprehend

I need only sing with abandon

I need only feel without restraint

I need only share and strive

That is the journey. That is the intention

That is the beauty, to evolve in one’s own time

of one’s own volition

Those who receive are those who are meant to receive

It may be heard once, perhaps many times

It is not for me to decide

I need only release that which desires to be free

Then it is so simple

Then the song becomes that which is wants to be

Joy unhampered by expectation

Thought unimpeded by desired results

Then the truth is revealed

I can be at peace with mystery

– Tiffany Prochera

Tabitha’s Magical Voice – Part 5

May 4, 2012 by tprochera Leave a Comment

Welcome to Tabitha’s Magical Voice – Part 5!

When last we saw Tabitha, she agreed to help the Grenigots if they would set her free and let her go home to retrieve an old tape recorder. But she’s taken the wrong path out of the woods so now she’s lost and has no idea how to get home. Will she find her way and return to Grenotia before Marticus and the Grenigots come looking for her and trap her forever?

While she was looking up and down the street, searching for the friendliest home to approach, Tabitha noticed a familiar sign a few doors down. A bus stop. The routes listed on the sign were the 81 and the 60.

“Hey,” Tabitha thought. “I take the 60 to get home from school. I can wait for the bus here. But how long will I have to wait? If I have to wait too long it could be too late.”

But no sooner did Tabitha finish that thought than a bus turned the corner further down the street and headed straight for her. Thank goodness. It was a 60.

The bus stopped in front of Tabitha and the doors opened.

“Excuse me,” Tabitha began, “but you go down Chatham Street, don’t you?”

“You bet.” answered the driver, a smiley, tall man with white hair.

Tabitha then remembered she didn’t have her bus pass or any money for bus fare at all. She hoped the driver would still let her on the bus. She clasped her hands together, almost like she was praying, and braced herself for disappointment.

“Now, I do have a bus pass but it’s not with me right now. I went for a walk and got lost and I have to get back home. Is that okay?”

The driver rubbed his chin, squinted his eyes and stared at Tabitha for a moment.

“Well, I don’t know.” he said with a twinkle in his eye, “They don’t like me letting people on the bus when they haven’t paid.”

“Oh, okay. I understand.” Tabitha thought the driver meant what he had said and she could feel tears coming but she managed to hold them back.

She turned and was about to step off the bus when the driver tapped her on the shoulder. “But in this case I am willing to make an exception.”

And when Tabitha turned around, he gave her a big smile. She was so glad he was just joking because she really didn’t want to have to go into a stranger’s house. She took a seat and kept her eye on the street so she would know when to get off.

When she arrived home, Tabitha dashed into the house, hoping no one would see her. But as she started up the stairs to her room, her sister, Caitlyn, came out of the kitchen with a piece of licorice sticking out of her mouth and screamed.

“Tabby! You’re back!”

Caitlyn skipped over to Tabitha to give her a hug but Tabitha put a finger to her lips. “Shhh! Don’t let Mommy and Daddy know I’m here. I just have to get something from my room and then I’m leaving again for a while.”

Tabitha and Caitlyn’s mother came out of the kitchen holding a cup of coffee. The cup shook a little when she saw Tabitha but she didn’t want to let Tabitha know she had been worried.

“Ah, you’re back.” she said calmly. “Did you have a nice walk?”

“Can’t talk about it now.” replied Tabitha as she ran up the stairs. “I have to get something from my room and go back.”

“Go back where? It’s going to be dark soon.”

“Mom, I can’t take the time to explain. The Grenigots will kidnap me if I’m not back in their village soon.” Tabitha opened her drawer to the little table by her bed and took out the recorder and an extra set of batteries.

“Grenigots? Kidnapping?” her mother asked. “What are you talking about?”

Tabitha started back down the stairs with her mother close behind.

“Not now, Mom. Please. I have to go.”

“Well, I should come with you. I don’t want you out there alone in the dark.” Tabitha’s mother started to put on her shoes. Tabitha looked down at her mother’s feet, which were a surprisingly large size 11 considering she was rather petite, and shook her head.

“No, you can’t. Your feet are too big. You could wipe out an entire family with one step.”

And with that, Tabitha shot out the door. Her mother stood in the doorway, trying not to cry though her chin did quiver a little. She was very sensitive about the size of her feet and didn’t like the idea that they could cause harm to someone, let alone an entire family of someones, whoever they were. Then, it occurred to her that Tabitha must just be joking. She was probably over at her friend Nadia’s house playing a game where they were creating an imaginary world full of fun and adventure. “What imaginations these children have.” she thought, and she laughed to herself.

The light was beginning to fade as Tabitha rushed through the woods and the trees were casting eerie shadows on the ground. She was afraid to think of how dark it would be on the journey home but she hadn’t had time to find a flashlight to guide her way.

When she finally arrived back at the clearing, the whole village of Grenotia was waiting there for her.

“Well, it’s about time.” Marticus hissed, his hands on his hips. “What took you so long?”

“I’m sorry everyone. I got lost on my way back to the house. Then, my mother saw me going up the stairs to my room and tried to stop me from leaving. But I got the voice recorder.” She held up the recorder in her hand. The villagers marvelled at the sight and wondered how it worked.

“Is your singing on it?” asked Bornoden.

“Not yet,” replied Tabitha. “but I’ll do it right now.”

She hit the record button and sang Happy Birthday three times into the recorder because it was a rather short song.

Tabitha could hear the villagers commenting as she sang. “Oh, she has a lovely voice!” “I wish I could sing like that.” “It truly is magical, isn’t it?” She was very pleased.

When she was done, Tabitha brought the recorder down to Marticus and started to explain what they had to do.

“Now see, you press this button here to rewind to the beginning.” She pointed out the reverse arrow. Marticus had to press hard with his whole body to push the button in. The machine whirled and then stopped with a click, which scared some of the villagers a little. “Then, you press the play button here with the big triangle to make it start.”

When Marticus pressed the button the villagers oohed and awed. As “Happy Birthday” played they would look at the recorder, then at Tabitha, then back at the recorder, amazed that they were hearing Tabitha’s voice when her mouth was closed.

“Gosh and golly! This is wonderful!” Bornoden exclaimed, slapping his leg with his hand. “You have saved us!”

The villagers cheered. Tabitha clasped her hands together.

“Oh, I am so happy I could help!” She looked into the forest and remembered the long walk home, “But now I have to go back. My mother will be worried.”

“Thank you so much for all you have done for us.” Marticus stretched out his hand and Tabitha bent down to shake it. “You know, I never did get your name.”

Tabitha smiled a big smile. She was flattered that Marticus was now asking her name, when he didn’t care who she was before.

“It’s Tabitha.” she answered.

“Well, thank you, Miss Tabitha. We right appreciate it.”

“My pleasure.”

The twilight was descending on the forest and Tabitha could see the blue twilight taking over the clearing.

“Well, I should get home before it gets completely dark.” she said. “It has been delightful meeting you all and I wish you the best of luck with the nados. And have fun at the Fronkernic Festival.” She looked down at Kishinae. “I’m sure you’ll be great in the play.”

Tabitha waved at the villagers as she walked into the trees and they waved back and blew her kisses of gratitude.

As she walked through the woods, Tabitha was beside herself with wonder. She had no idea that her singing had any worth at all, let alone that it could save an entire village. Did that mean she should start singing again? Were there other villages she could save from the nados? Did she have any other powers she didn’t know about? 6

By the time Tabitha reached the edge of the wood, big dark clouds were taking over the sky. The wind, which was barely noticeable before, was becoming quite strong, blowing the skirt of her green dress in all directions. It certainly looked like a storm was approaching.

As Tabitha came closer to her house, she could see her father watching through the screen door with a concerned look on his face. When he saw her in the distance, he sighed with relief.

“Tabitha!” he called out, “Get inside the house! The storm is coming!”

Tabitha ran through the yard straight into her father’s arms. He gave her a big hug, covering her in his bright red jacket.

“I’m so glad you’re okay. Your mother thought you had gone to Nadia’s but we called and you weren’t there so we didn’t know where to look for you.”

Tabitha went over the conversation with her mother in her mind and didn’t recall mentioning anything about Nadia.

“But I never said I was at Nadia’s.” she explained. “I was in Grenotia saving the Grenigots from the nados.”

Tabitha’s father didn’t understand a word of what his daughter had just said. “Well, you can tell us all about it but we have to go down to the basement.”

Tabitha and her father went into the basement where her mother and sister were waiting.

“Tabitha! You’re safe!” cried her mother as she saw Tabitha come down the stairs. She grabbed her in her arms and hugged her so tightly she could hardly breathe. “Don’t you ever take off like that again, okay?” she whispered in her ear with a tear coming down her cheek. “Don’t you ever do that again.”

“I’m sorry, Mom.” said Tabitha.

In a corner of the basement, Caitlyn was playing with the big purple teddy bear she had received as a birthday present from her Aunt Tracy. She was mad at Tabitha for leaving and didn’t want her to know how much she had missed her and how scared she had been.

Tabitha walked over to her and kneeled down on the carpet, picking up one of Caitlyn’s dolls and began stroking its long black hair.

“So, did you have fun at your birthday party?”

Caitlyn didn’t look up at her sister. “Yeah.”

“I’m sorry for leaving like that.”

Caitlyn was quiet for a moment. Then her eyes met Tabitha’s with a most serious gaze. “You didn’t sing for me, Tabby. Then you made me get scared when you ran away.”

“I know I did, Caty. Do you forgive me?”

“No. Not yet.”

“What do I have to do to get you to forgive me?” asked Tabitha.

Caitlyn raised an eyebrow. “You know what.”

Just then, the wind started to howl and the rain started to pour, making a terrible racket. Just as quickly, the sound of rain became even louder and heavier. They could see the trees swaying and bending through the tiny basement window as hail the size of grapes, then plums began to hit the ground. A crack of lightning, followed immediately by a deafening rumble of thunder made Caityln jump. She started to cry.

“I’m scared, Tabby.” She confessed as she grabbed Tabitha’s hand.

“That doesn’t sound good.” Tabitha’s father whispered in her mother’s ear.

Then, Tabitha picked up Caitlyn and sat her on her lap. She wrapped her arms around her little sister and began singing the song Caitlyn had been waiting for all day. She started off softly at first but her voice got stronger as she continued. And when she finished the ‘How old are you now?’ part of “Happy Birthday”, she didn’t stop.

As the wind howled and the hail fell on the roof, she kept on singing almost every song she knew, from lullabies to Christmas carols to songs she had heard on the radio. Caitlyn would join in when she knew the words and they laughed and clapped and had a wonderful time.

Tabitha’s mother and father looked on, very pleased, wondering what had happened to make Tabitha want to sing again but afraid to ask in case she would stop. She seemed so happy and it was so lovely to hear her.

Well, the story’s almost done but we can’t give it all away! To find out how Tabitha’s journey ends, download your copy of the Tabitha e-book at www.tiffanyprochera.com or listen to the audiobook on the Swimming Tigress Music YouTube Channel!

Stay tuned more for more stories, poems and more!

Tabitha Part 2!

April 20, 2012 by tprochera Leave a Comment

Welcome back to Notalotabull Press Storytime!

As promised, here is the second installation of Tabitha’s Magical Voice. We left off with Tabitha running away from her sister, Caitlyn’s, birthday party because she was bugged about not singing Happy Birthday. She has run off into the woods behind her house and has discovered she is lost…

Tabitha’s Magical Voice – Part 2

Tabitha noticed a ray of light coming down through the trees in the distance and kept walking until she reached a clearing littered with leaves and sticks of all shapes and sizes. It was quite pretty actually.

“This could be a good place to rest for a bit.” she thought to herself. She was tired and her legs were sore from all the running she had done.

Tabitha took a step into the clearing and felt a crunch underneath her feet.

“Hey!” she heard a small voice cry, “You’re lucky Shamabus isn’t home. But he’s not going to be happy having to build it all over again.”

Tabitha looked to the right, to the left and behind her, trying to figure out where the voice was coming from. “Who said that? Where are you?” she asked.

“Down here, ya big oaf!”

Tabitha looked down at the ground and noticed that all of the branches and leaves that she assumed had just been scattered across the clearing were, in fact, arranged into cute little homes. Then, right next to her left foot, this little man, smaller than her foot was wide, was scowling up at her. His neon yellow hair and long beard to match seemed to glow in the sunlight.

“What don’t you watch where you’re going? Somebody could get hurt.” the man said.

Tabitha bent down to get a closer look and her mouth opened in wonder.

“Amazing!” she remarked. “What a funny little thing you are!”

The man huffed. “Better a funny little thing than a funny big thing, I’d say. What kind of a hair colour is that? Brown. Branches are brown, The earth is brown. But brown hair? Ridiculous!”

Tabitha was too awed by the little man to realize she was being insulted.

“I didn’t know there were people as small as you. Sure, I’ve heard stories about fairies but I know they aren’t real. And besides, you don’t have any wings so you couldn’t be a fairy anyway.”

The little man thought for a moment then shook his head. “Never heard of those fairy things but I assure you we Grenigots are very real.”

“Grenigots? Is that what you’re called?”

“Yesiree. Name’s Marticus.”

“Hi. My name is – ”

“Don’t care. Now, what are you going around stepping on people’s houses for?”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to. I was just thinking and wasn’t paying attention to where I was going.”

“A dangerous activity, that thinking. I’d advise against it. It can get you into a lot of trouble.”

Just then, this other little man with vibrant purple hair and a cherry red jacket came up to Marticus and tapped him on the shoulder.

“Hey, Marticus, why are you talking to a tree?” he wondered.

Tabitha looked down, realized she was wearing a green dress that might indeed cause her to be mistaken for a tree by a being of his size, and laughed. As she lifted her head back in the middle of a chuckle, her eyes glanced further into the clearing and she could see many more little people like this Marticus and his friend doing all sorts of things – playing, working. Some young people at the far end of the clearing were even dancing and making music. She was stunned.

Marticus flung his arm at the other man in annoyance. “It’s not a tree, Bornoden. It’s one of them girl things. We’ve had them around here before. This one stepped on Shamabus’s house.”

“Gosh and golly, he’s going to be steamed.” Bornoden declared, shaking his head. “I guess we’ll be spending tomorrow helping him put it back together. He can stay at my place for the night. Well, anyway, I’m supposed to tell you that Merrylynn has been looking for you. Your supper’s on the table and it’s getting cold.”

Marticus looked up at the sun and, from its position in the sky, agreed it was probably dinnertime. “I guess it’s about that time. I did do a lot of work today and I do have the grumblies. Do you know what she’s cooking?”

“Looked like a couple of beetles and a mushroom.”

Tabitha scrunched up her nose. “Ewww! Beetles! Gross!”

Marticus put his hands on his hips. “They just so happen to be my favourite, I’ll have you know. And it’s not like you’re invited to dinner so you don’t have to eat them. Not that there would be enough to fill your enormous gut anyway.”

Now, Tabitha knew she was being insulted. “Well, I just had a big dinner anyway so I couldn’t eat another thing. Certainly not a beetle.”

Bornoden patted his stomach and licked his lips. “I can always eat more. If I had anything to say about it I would never stop.”

Tabitha giggled. Her father loved to eat too and, in some ways, Bornoden reminded her of him. Her father even had a bright red jacket himself that he loved to wear. In fact, he had been wearing it at Caitlyn’s party.

Catilyn’s party. Tabitha wondered what they were doing at that moment. Had they finished the cake? Were they playing more games? Were they talking about her and how selfish she had been? Had she really been selfish for simply choosing not to do something she didn’t want to do?

Just as Tabitha was beginning to get sad and angry again, thinking about what she should have done and whether she was right or wrong, the music from across the clearing grew louder and the dancers began to hoot and holler. It grabbed her attention.

‘Why are those people dancing over there?” she asked with her mind back on the situation at hand. “We don’t usually dance in the middle of the streets where I’m from.”

A young girl about Tabitha’s age with neon pink hair and wearing a purple polka dot dress skipped up to them. She stopped and smiled up at Tabitha.

“Oh, they’re practicing for our annual Fronkernic festival. There’s always a big show.” She tugged on Bornoden’s sleeve. “Daddy, I got all my lines right today for the first time!”

Bornoden patted the girl on her head. “My daughter, Kishinae. She’s performing in a play for the festival.” He gave Kishinae a big grin. ‘That’s great, honey.”

Tabitha reached out a finger for the little girl to shake. “Nice to meet you, Kishinae. So, what’s this Fronkernic festival?”

Bornoden began to get excited. He loved telling stories. “Fronkernic is the time when we celebrate our ancestors first arriving in Grenotia.” His eyes grew as big as saucers and his hands began to act out the tale. “They had been wandering for generations, facing incredible dangers in their search for a place to call home. Many lost their lives being crushed by falling tree branches or attacked by vicious animals like the squibbers with their long sharp claws and those horrible meowing sounds.”

Kishinae gasped in fear. She had only seen one squibber in her life and it was terrifying.

But Tabitha wasn’t scared at all. “Oh, you mean cats.” she corrected. “I think they’re cute. I want one but my dad is allergic to them.” But then she imagined herself the size of a Grenigot and felt bad. “I suppose they would seem much bigger and scarier to you though.”

Marticus glared at Tabitha, furious. “The squibbers were far from cute! My family line was almost erased by them. I am lucky to be alive. Why you -”

“Anyway,” interrupted Bornoden, “after years of travelling they came upon this clearing and they knew it was the perfect spot. They could build a community and the space was wide open so they could easily spot the squibbers and anything else that came along.”

All of a sudden, an even littler little person with peacock blue hair dashed by, arms flailing wildly in panic. “They’re coming! They’re coming! Save yourself! Find shelter now!” he screamed.

“What’s coming?” Tabitha asked. “The cats, I mean, the squibbers?”

Bornoden looked towards the western sky, worried.

Keep posted for Part 3….

And visit www.tiffanyprochera.com to download your entire copy of the Tabitha e-book.

Ciao all!

Once Upon A Time – The Beginning of Notalotabull Press Storytime

April 13, 2012 by tprochera Leave a Comment

Welcome to Notalotabull Press Storytime!

This is a blog to host excerpts of poetry and prose from Winnipeg, Manitoba – based publisher, Notalotabull Press.

To date, composer and author, TIffany Prochera has released two books, the inspirational A Candle At Both Ends and Tabitha’s Magical Voice, an e-book for young readers. We will be telling you how you can get your own copy of these books and more!

We will be featuring these books as well as excerpts from Tiffany’s upcoming novels, Grace Notes: How Music Saved My Life and The Wannabe Optimist’s Guide to Making Life Not Suck So Much.

You can always visit us online at www.tiffanyprochera.com or www.notalotabullpress.com or follow regular Notalotabull Press news at our regular blog http://mewsandmoosblog.blogspot.ca/.

Keep posted and happy reading!