gratitude Archives - Trisha Sugarek, Author, Playwright & Poet

I am the daughter, sister, wife and mother of a Veteran!

Members of the military impacted my life in many ways. My life was certainly changed by members of my family serving in the armed forces. So what better time than on this Veteran’s Day to honor them….those who keep us SAFE and FREE! And to honor those who gave the ultimate sacrifice for us and their country.

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Gerald Guyer (cousin) US Marines**WWI – gave his life in Normandy, France ** Son of Gladys; nephew of Violet, my mother.

William Jay Woods (father) US Navy ** WWII – South Pacific – PTSD. He met my mother in San Francisco, where she owned a bar and grill. He returned from war an alcoholic, experienced rages and had a parrot named Butch.

Johnny Cable (step-father) US Army/Infantry ** WWII Southern Pacific. Lost an eye, suffered from jungle rot and PTSD. At five years of age I remember not being able to run in and jump on the bed in the mornings to ‘wake up Daddy’. He would awaken ready to fight the ‘Japs’ and in those first few seconds he was back in the jungle. He was a wonderful father but the horrors of the South Pacific battles were never far from the surface. He later served on a ship in the Korean War as a meat cutter. He was instrumental in serving the troops a HOT Thanksgiving dinner on the beach that year.

family histories, family secrets, story telling, writers — my mother, Violet

Violet Guyer (mother) US Armed Forces ** Wife, sister, and mother of members in the military. My mother, who I write about, was auntie to Gerald. She married Jay (active Navy) and Johnny (active Army) and was a military wife for two decades. She was mother to Jack (US Air Force) and Doris, (US Marines).

Jack Borden (brother) US Air Force ** Loaded B52 bombers – hot spots around the world – 20+ years of service. My brother would come home from far away places like Germany, Iceland, Africa, Panama and because he didn’t have a hometown girl, he would take me, his teenage sister, ballroom dancing.

Doris Borden (sister) Joined the US Marines, Reserve and was upgraded to active duty when the Korean War broke out.

Jack Henderson. (first husband) US Air Force * While in the military, he was on a ship in the Pacific
and witnessed one of the first A-Bomb test explosions off Enewetok Atoll in the Marshall Islands.

Robert Berry (second husband) US Navy Seals, US Coast Guard ** 20+ years of service. Robert was a Navy Seal, underwater demolition during the Viet Nam years. He later served as a warrant officer aboard an icebreaker and was certified to scuba dive under the Arctic ice.

John Sugarek (husband) US Marines ** Viet Nam – John was my husband for 30 years. He was kind-hearted and funny and everyone loved him. I witnessed two of his flashbacks from battle in Viet Nam (twenty years later) and he suffered, untreated, from PTSD. Partially due to the PTSD (I believe) he died at his own hand in 2006. His fellow wounded warriors celebrate him at the Whiskey Battery Reunion, once a year.

We are all grateful to our military for their unswerving bravery, service, and loyalty and we honor those who have come home, battered but alive.

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The Guyer Girls will open soon in the Black Hills of South Dakota

The Black Hills Community Theatre of Rapid City, South Dakota is opening performance dates for my play, The Guyer Girls, beginning March 31st.

Writing down my memories of my mother telling me these wild stories about herself and her four sisters when they were teenagers in the 1920s in a tiny town

Mama, Violet, Gladys, Ivah, Youngest sisters

in the Pacific Northwest was a joyful trip down memory lane and a perfect genre to preserve her stories. When I was a child, thankfully, I knew all of my aunties as older women. It’s a special event when I am notified by Samuel French, my publisher, that this particular play has been licensed to produce by a theatre group.

Synopsis:

Critics have described The Guyer Girls as a cross between Little Women and I Remember Mama. From the opening moments when Ivah cuts Violet’s eyebrows off, this story romps through the sibling antics and rivalry of a large family. The first act takes place as the young teenage girls are growing into lovely women.

The five sisters grown: (left>right) LaVerne, Violet, Gladys, Ivah and Lillias.

(left>right) Tish Evans as LaVerne, Carol Cameron as Violet, LaRee Mayes as Mama, Wendy Lowe as Lillas, and Marilyn Hovland as Ivah

In a series of family stories set in the 1920s, we enjoy the girls’ hilarious pranks, antics, joys and humiliations. There is laughter in abundance. Tears, love, and sibling rivalry as these four delightful sisters grow up under the guidance of their matriarch, ‘Mama’. A prestigious marriage, a female pro-basketball player, and a run away to Alaska, these young women couldn’t be more diverse. Fast forward to the 1940s. The sisters are adults, starting their own families and Pearl Harbor has just been attacked.

The Guyer Girls are the children of Sophia and Levi Guyer who migrated to America and then moved out west. The stage play is a rich tapestry of an American family spanning three decades and based upon the true story of the Guyer family. 4f.
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Watch for more interviews with authors. December: Marc Cameron, writing for TOM CLANCY
March-Apr: Joshua Hood, author of ROBERT LUDLUM’S THE TREADSTONE RENDITION April: Author, H.W. ‘Buzz’ Bernard

A few BOOKS BY TRISHA SUGAREK

Inspiration Comes in All Forms

You find inspiration in the strangest places. I was dedicated to writing scripts for the stage. A few years back, I attended this production of my children’s play, Emma and the Lost Unicorn, outside of Boston .

After the actors had their curtain calls, the Director told them that if they changed out of their costumes and did their assigned tasks back stage, they could ‘have some time with Trisha’.

So I found myself holding impromptu stage craft classes with these adorable young actors (age 5–18). I was struck how serious they were about their craft. Their questions were very sophisticated. And then it happened……the inspiration to dare to write something completely out of my comfort zone…..a book.

children's theatre, plays for kids, writing, stage plays, — Emma

The youngest ones begged me to write the stories from my scripts into storybook form. They wanted to have Emma, Stare, Cheets, and Stanley in their personal libraries. Six children’s books, a mystery series and three novels later I have found a new outlet for my story telling. These children, who knew no fear, gave me enough courage to try chapter books, poetry, and becoming a novelist. Experimental at times, risky at times, scary, but so rewarding.

I was lucky and had a head start using my stage plays as a story outline as I adapted them to story book form. But for my true crime series and the novels, I was flying solo….staring at a blank screen, typing that first sentence (that I am always talking about).

So step out of your comfort zone and try writing in a different format… it’s very liberating and you might surprise yourself. I did!
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Auld Lang Syne ~~ Happy Holidays!

It’s that time of year….Auld Lang Syne and as the poet, Robbie Burns wrote, “old long since”. And I’m in the mood to tell a story.

Wild Violets, a novel — Mother, Violet, on right, circa 1922?

In a very ‘Auld Lang Syne’ kind of mood, I remembered things from my long ago youth at holiday time. Especially my mother’s traditions in the kitchen. Christmas dinner was a big stuffed turkey with all, and I do mean all, the trimmings. Dinner began with a ‘shrimp cocktail’. If there was fresh shrimp (there had to have been; we lived in the Pacific Northwest for goodness sakes); my mother had never heard of them. Canned shrimp filled two third’s of a martini glass, topped with her homemade cocktail sauce. A sprig of parsley on top and the glass was then placed on a paper doily covered saucer. On the saucer was ONE, (never two or three) Ritz cracker.

The sage, giblet stuffing, made from scratch and that means my mother saved the heels of bread loaves for weeks. I’ve never tasted dressing as good since. She would make the usual trimmings, gravy from the turkey drippings, green beans (out of a can, of course) flavored with bits of boiled bacon, baked sweet potatoes, and jellied cranberry sauce. She considered whole berry cranberry sauce savage. Home made biscuits and mashed potatoes. And then the pièce de résistance………..her oyster dressing. (Fresh oysters) Heaven in a bite!

Not being a particularly religious family the blessing was be short. If my Dad could get away with it, he would add: “Pass the spuds, pass the meat, for

Godssakes, let’s eat.” We would toast each other with Manischewitz wine. A wine connoisseur Mom was not! And I never knew why a Kosher red wine was part of her tradition.

As dishes were passed around the table, someone would always mention my mother’s off colored joke about a “boarding house reach“. A stickler for good manners, she would instruct us that a ‘boarding house reach’ was when you could ‘reach’ for something on the table and at least one butt cheek remained on your chair. That was an acceptable ‘reach’ and not bad manners. Otherwise, you must ask politely for someone to pass down the dish you wanted.

roaring 20's, flappers, new fiction, Wild Violets — the flapper days

I was never certain whether she had run a boarding house or had just lived in one sometime during her 1920’s flapper*bar owner*professional bowler* speckled younger days. If she had run a bordello it would not have surprised me! Miss you, Mom!

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My weekly BLOG features INTERVIEWS with best-selling AUTHORS! August: Veronica Henry, October: Life Coach, shaman, author, Jennifer Monahan, November: Susanne O’Leary, December: Mimi Mathews
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BOOKS BY TRISHA SUGAREK

Parkland Shootings

In remembrance of the innocent victims killed in a senseless shooting. Inspired by that horrible day, I wrote a ten minute play for the classroom in the hopes that teens would learn more about the circumstances that led up to that day. Perhaps more teens would open up about their thoughts and fears through performance of this play. The child (and yes he is a child regardless of his heinous actions) was in court yesterday pleading guilty to 17 murders of students, coaches and teachers.

Synopsis:

Mass shootings are a part of our current culture. Not until now did I have something to say (write) about so many mass murders.
This ten minute play for teens in the classroom is to honor and memorialize the Marjory Stoneman Douglas High School shooting. It focuses on a small class of students hidden away in safety by their English teacher and what happens while they wait for the shooting to stop. But the question begs will they ever be safe again?

The victims:
My Mr. Hale (play) is fashioned after Scott Beigel, 35, a geography teacher and the school’s cross-country coach. He was killed after he unlocked a door to allow students in to hide from the shooter.

Alyssa Alhadeff
Aaron Feis
Martin Duque Anguiano
Nicholas Dworet
Jamie Guttenberg
Chris Hixon
Luke Hoyer
Cara Loughran
Gina Montalto
Joaquin Oliver
Alaina Petty
Meadow Pollack
Helena Ramsay
Carmen Schentrup
Peter Wang

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My weekly BLOG features INTERVIEWS with best-selling AUTHORS! May: Jenny Colgan, June: Don Bentley writing for Tom Clancy, August: Veronica Henry, October: Life Coach, shaman, author, Jennifer Monahan, November: Susanne O’Leary.
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BOOKS BY TRISHA SUGAREK

Life Coach, Shaman Monahan’s “Moment” (conclusion)

Jennifer’s first home in Guatemala ; a one room hut.

My plan was to stay in El Remate for three months, visit several Mayan sites, and write my second book. In that time, I was “adopted” by a local family, made a bunch of friends, connected with Guatemalan shamans (and participated in several traditional ceremonies) and began sponsoring the education of a couple of the local girls. El Remate quickly became more “home” than “vacation spot.” I extended my rental by another two months, and, just as I was getting ready to leave, bought a piece of land, drew out plans on graph paper, and gave them to one of my new Guatemalan friends to build my house.

While my house was being built, I traveled to Japan, Cambodia, and Thailand, and then loaded all my belongings on a cargo ship and moved to Guatemala. I had taken a few trips to Guatemala during the construction process to pick out materials and see how the house was coming along, but it was an entirely different experience walking into my completed house for the first time. I felt as if I were truly home since every aspect of the house is a reflection of me. Unlike most houses in this area of Guatemala, my house was a two-story home with lots of windows. Painted off-white, it had a terra cotta red Spanish-style roof and a small, secluded patio in front. A handmade wooden door painted slate blue with black iron decorations

Participating in a Mayan shamanic ceremony for rain in Chuarrancho.

opened up into a small foyer from which you could see the entire first floor – kitchen, dining room, living room and an office that was defined by some half walls to give it structure. Tucked in the back corner off the kitchen was a half bath. The Spanish feel continued in the house, with terra cotta ceramic tiles in the kitchen and bathroom and ceramic wood tiles in the other spaces. I had selected a sage-green color for the kitchen cabinets and black concrete for the countertops and island that separated the kitchen from the dining room.

The floating staircase with a metal railing that mimicked a tree with branches and leaves that I had drawn out for the builders was a new concept for them, but they had stepped up to the challenge. Each concrete step with a hardwood top was anchored to the wall, giving the impression that each step was lightly floating above the other. The master builder also happened to be a metal worker, and he crafted the railing himself. At the top of the stairs was a meditation space, and then a short walkway to the master bedroom suite – which took up the rest of the second floor. A large sliding door in the bedroom led to a second-floor balcony that ran the entire length of the back of the house.

Set in an undeveloped area of the jungle, the house was remote enough from the village that I had complete privacy but was close enough that I could easily visit friends or go to the lake. It was also remote enough that there wasn’t any electricity available, although running water was. Solar panels on the roof, connected to storage batteries that were housed in my bodega, provided all of the energy I needed to run my house. I loved that my house was powered by the sun, and therefore green and caring for the jungle that I was living in.

My yard was filled with trees, plants and flowers, and hummed with the energy of the jungle – toucans, parrots and hummingbirds were easily spotted, as was the family of howler monkeys that used the trees as part of their “food highway” through the jungle. A whole host of other animals also made the area their home. One day an ocelot even ran through my yard! Relaxing in my hammock on the second floor balcony off my bedroom quickly became a favorite pastime, since I was at tree-level with the birds and monkeys and could not only watch them, but also feel as if I were part of the jungle.

Jennifer with other shamans after Spring Equinox ceremony at Uaxactun.

I quickly got into a routine and filled my days with consulting and shamanic work; writing; planning for and hosting an online radio show; volunteering at the local library and children’s center; and spending time with friends. To this day, my home in Guatemala is my sanctuary and fills me with peace.
If someone had told me that I would quit my job, build a house, and move to Guatemala prior to my accident, I would have laughed at them. But that’s how these life-changing moments work: they throw you for a loop so that you look at everything differently, and they put you on a different trajectory than you could have imagined. In retrospect, my accident was a gift. It allowed me to truly get to know myself and what I am capable of and gave me the opportunity to experience life in a more authentic way than I ever had before. Oh, and do it while wearing six-inch heels!

What’s your moment?

Did you miss Part 1 of this fascinating article?

About Jennifer B. Monahan
Jennifer is a business strategy consultant, shaman and coach who helps people all over the world live purposeful lives that not only bring them more joy and freedom, but also help them make the impact they want on the world. Her first book, “This Trip Will Change Your Life: A Shaman’s Story of Spirit

Evolution,” chronicles her experiences meeting and training with a Mayan shaman in Mexico and has won six literary awards, including two first-place Body, Mind, Spirit Book Awards and a 2017 National Indie Excellence Award. Her second book, “Where To? How I Shed My Baggage and Learned to Live Free,” describers Jennifer’s time living in a thatched-roof hut in Guatemala and then travelling to Cambodia, Thailand and Japan. It has won seven literary awards, including Winner in the 2019 Beverly Hills Books Awards and Silver Winner in the 2019 Nautilus Book Awards.

She is a regular contributor to Medium.com and Sivana East, has had articles published on Inc.com and MindBodyGreen.com and has a podcast, Living A Courageously Authentic Life, on BlogTalkRadio.com. She is in the process of writing her third book, a handbook for people looking to define, create and live their courageously authentic life. When not traveling, Jennifer splits her time between Guatemala and the United States. You can find Jennifer at SpiritEvolution.co.

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BOOKS BY TRISHA SUGAREK

Shaman, Author, Jennifer Monahan shares ‘a moment’….

What’s Your Moment?

I’m a firm believer that each one of us has specific moments during our lives that shape us. Usually uncomfortable, and sometimes downright painful, these moments move us in a direction that we might never have gone in. For me, one of those moments happened on November 2, 2014.
It was a gorgeous, clear Sunday afternoon in San Francisco, one of those days where you just feel alive because everything is so bright and sunny. I was at an intersection in the Financial District, walking to the downtown area to do some errands. Even though the Financial District was virtually deserted, I waited for the “Walk” signal before crossing the street. I was about halfway across when something blue caught the corner of my eye…a split-second before a man hit me at 25 miles an hour with his blue minivan.

I don’t remember much after that. Eyewitnesses said that I rode on the hood of the minivan for about half a block until the driver slammed on the brakes to stop. (I later found out that the driver got confused and stepped on the gas pedal instead of the brake.) I have no memory of riding on the hood, but I do remember falling. I landed on the pavement on my hands, knees and face and knew immediately that I wasn’t going to be able to move.
At the emergency room, all the doctors and technicians said that they had never seen a “human vs. minivan” outcome look as good as I did. “Good,” of course, is relative, as I later learned, and basically meant that I wasn’t dead. I had plenty of time to think about that during the six months I was laid up on my couch and the subsequent months of physical therapy.

The most difficult day of my healing process was when my doctors told me I wouldn’t walk again and that I would need to use both crutches and a brace for the rest of my life. I cried that day and then woke up the next morning filled with resolve. At my next appointment, I brought a pair of 6-inch heels into the doctor’s office, told the doctors my goal was to wear them, and suggested that they get on board because I was going to walk again.
I still remember the sense of pride I felt as I accomplished what in the past had been mindless simple activities: being able to curl my toes and pick up a facecloth was one of my first successes and gave me the confidence to continue to push myself to re-learn how to walk. I celebrated the day that I graduated to a walking cast and took my first steps without crutches. Friends cheered me on the first time that I walked (slowly) in a brace down a short flight of stairs. The day I walked a few steps without crutches, cast or a brace was the day I knew I had proved the doctors wrong. I was exhausted, covered in sweat and shaking, but was, in my doctor’s words, “a miracle.” It took fourteen months.
But the point the doctors had made about how “good” I looked after the accident kept swirling around in my head. There was no doubt in my mind that I had been lucky: had I fallen under the wheels of the minivan instead of going up on the hood, I would have died.

That moment and realization changed my life completely. I began looking at every aspect of my life and realized that while my life had been a good life, I had played by the rules and hadn’t taken many chances. I realized that I didn’t want to play it safe anymore; I wanted to follow my heart and truly live life.

And so, I did what at the time was one of the scariest things I had ever done: I quit my job and walked away from the security that it represented. Once I had given my notice, the next change was a lot easier: I gave up my rent-controlled apartment in San Francisco (a big deal, given how crazy rents are in San Francisco). I sold and donated a lot of my belongings and put the rest in storage. I had decided to travel.
I’m a nomad at heart, a gypsy. My work as a consultant suits me well, since I’m typically on a plane every week, going somewhere different. But that travel was for work and didn’t give me the opportunity to do what I wanted to do: really immerse myself in different cultures and locations.
First on my list of places to visit was Guatemala. I had become fascinated with Mayan archaeological ruins two years prior and had explored over a dozen sites in Mexico. Everyone told me that I needed to see Tikal in Guatemala. So, once I finished my book tour for my first book, I packed my carry-on bag and headed to Guatemala.

Jaguar-About to depart on another worldwide trip

I ended up in the small village of El Remate, in Peten, about 30 minutes away from Tikal. The village is in the jungle and home to a couple hundred families. The main road through town is the only fully paved road in the village and is dotted with tiny shops, restaurants and churches and runs alongside Lake Peten Itza. Chickens, dogs, and pigs wander around freely, holding up traffic when they decide to sleep in the middle of the road.
I rented a one-room thatched-roof hut, near the lake and village cemetery and about a 20-minute walk to the center of town. It had a covered outside patio with a couch and chair. The front door opened to the sleeping area. To the left of the sleeping area was the bathroom – with running water. To the right was the kitchen and eating area. But what really made the hut was the thatched roof. It rose about two and a half stories high, with a bamboo framework and dried palm leaves making a water-tight roof.

Join us next week for the conclusion of this fascinating journey!
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My weekly BLOG features INTERVIEWS with best-selling AUTHORS! March: Lee Matthew Goldberg, May: Jenny Colgan, June: Don Bentley writing for Tom Clancy, August: Veronica Henry, October: Life Coach, shaman, author, Jennifer Monahan, November: Susanne O’Leary.
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BOOKS BY TRISHA SUGAREK

Happy 9 year Anniversary, Writers’ World Blog!

May 7, 2012, I wrote my first posting for my new blog. I was very resistant, at first, stating that I wanted to do real writing, not waste my time on some silly little blog!
Now nine years later, I realize that I have had a lot to write about. Most of it relevant, I hope. Faithfully, I have posted weekly without fail. The jewel in my blogging crown is definitely my monthly interviews with other authors, some pretty famous best selling authors!

I used to have to ‘chase’ books to review. But I kept at it and now in the last few years ARCs (advance readers’ copy) arrive in the mail with a request that I review the new book. I can barely keep up with the demand but I try to read and review every book I receive.

I would not have believed back in 2012 that I would have enough to say to fill nine years, every week. I’m not being immodest when I say that it has taken some creative thinking on my part to create different venues like author interviews. I’m careful to find (at least) something good about any book that I review. My blog has remained positive and, I hope, a safe place for ALL writers.

And to my supporters, (dare I say) fans, and subscribers, a GREAT BIG THANK YOU!
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My weekly BLOG features INTERVIEWS with best-selling AUTHORS! December: Lauren Willig, January: Madeline Hunter, February: Mike Lupica, March: Lee Matthew Goldberg, May: Jenny Colgan, June: Don Bentley writing for Tom Clancy
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One Candle Can Light Another

One day a good friend called me; Gary was a very accomplished pianist, guitarist and musical director. He was reading my book of poetry, Butterflies and Bullets. He went on to say that while reading my work he kept hearing music in his head. And could I give him permission to use my poetry for lyrics. What a compliment! He said he was especially taken with, “Hair-cut…Two Bits”, about a down-and-out cellist, gambler and barber in New Orleans.

Gary had previously written a song based on my play, Scent of Magnolia (Billie Holiday). The world lost a beautiful musician and friend this past December.

We artists, regardless of what we do or what we write, should lift each other up whenever or wherever we can. When I review a book I make certain that my review (if bad) lists helpful and constructive criticism and is never cruel.

It is my hope that my posts relating to writing helps a new writer begin their journey in writing….and helps experienced writers learn something new. My hope is to light someone else’s candle of creativity.

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My weekly BLOG features INTERVIEWS with best-selling AUTHORS! November: Ella Quinn, December: Lauren Willig,
January: Madeline Hunter, February: Mike Lupica
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NEW Haiku Journal

Just published. A NEW journal for your Haiku poetry. Some instruction and tips to help get you started. 190 lined, blank pages for YOUR poetry. Poetry is imbedded in the margins of the pages to inspire your writing.

An old silent pond
A frog jumps into the pond,
splash! Silence again.
Matsuo Basho

morning sun dapples
trees in a polka-dot dress
shines soft green and light
~ T. Sugarek

Light of the moon
Moves west, flowers’ shadows
Creep eastward.
Yosa Buson

Black, gnarled branch
green leaves blush
droop in autumn rain
~ Unknown

angle of fall’s sun
so different from spring’s rays
dapples the sun porch

end of hot summer
the crisp, sharp tang of fall’s breath
smokes the air about

a waiting for sleep
under the blanket of snow
until spring sun beams ~ T. Sugarek

Whether one passes on
or remains is all the same.
That you can take no one with you
is the only difference.

Ah, how pleasant!
Two awakenings and one sleep.

This dream of a fleeing world!
The roseate hues of early dawn!
Tokugawa Ieyasu

Perfect size to fit into backpack, handbag, tote or briefcase.
Available NOW. Purchase. Click here
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My weekly BLOG features INTERVIEWS with best-selling AUTHORS! June: Mike Maden writing for TOM CLANCY. July: Guest Blogger Desiree Villena, August: Carolyn Brown
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