Pam Reeder
Bio
Stifled wordsmith re-embracing my creativity. I like to write stories that tap into raw human emotions.
Author of "Bristow Spirits on Route 66", magazine articles, four books under a pen name, technical writing, stories for my grandkids.
Stories (141/0)
Tis the Season - But what's the Reason?
It's that time of year again. We're in the final month of Merry Hallowthanksmas. The "mas" part of that is intended to be for Christmas, of which there is both the secular and religious versions. I'm secular all the way. But if you thought that big ticket item was the only thing December was about, you need to think again. Let me share the bounty of December with you.
By Pam Reeder2 years ago in FYI
My Creation Story
Mother's voice sounded breathy as though she were whispering hurriedly. "Glory. I am sad that I am no longer with you. I knew this day would come. Perhaps I should have prepared you better for my end so that you would be more strong on your own. But I felt strongly, perhaps too strongly, that innocence would serve you better than too much knowledge too soon. I have seen it before. Youth rising beyond their capabilities to fight against what they barely understood. And the atrocities men will invoke when they are afflicted with the unreasonableness of fear.
By Pam Reeder2 years ago in Fiction
Don't Give Up Your Safety Ladies
I know this is a sensitive topic and there are very vocal people leading the charge against men that don’t behave properly with women. I’m all for that. Improper behavior should not be condoned. But it is ludicrous to tell women that they don’t have to take precautionary actions because men should leave them alone. Life is not that simple.
By Pam Reeder2 years ago in Viva
Ho Ho Ho - All I want from Vocal is...
There is no doubt that Vocal is a great platform for Creators. And it is always exciting to see what the platform rolls out next to make Vocal a more robust experience for the Creators. AND they LISTEN to their Creators about their needs and wants. Check out this article below by Justin Maury , Founder and President of Creatd (Nasdaq: CRTD), the parent company of the Vocal platform.
By Pam Reeder2 years ago in Journal
Everything in Science was once an unknown
There have been very interesting, sometimes even explosive, conversations amongst people over the past two years. It usually stemmed from a great misunderstanding wherein all parties felt their realities were being challenged and it generated cringe worthy dialogue. It has been very saddening to see the fractured friendships that often resulted.
By Pam Reeder2 years ago in Futurism
Dandelions for Humanity
A friend and I were talking today, discussing our various pearls of wisdom we have collected along our respective journeys. She made mention of how frustrating it is to attempt to share what she knows in her heart to be truly wonderful information, only to be met with rejection. My response to her was that all we can do is set it free to land on the ears that are willing to hear. That in turn prompted the little poem I include below.
By Pam Reeder2 years ago in Poets
Little Old Lady Who...
Saying the title of this piece out loud in a funny voice is the closest I'll ever get to a yodel. And I have to admit, writing something for the Remarkably Real Challenge has had me perplexed. I realized that I love talking and telling stories, but I'm not very good about telling stories about myself unless I'm making fun of me in some way.
By Pam Reeder2 years ago in Journal
The Invisible Life of Poor Alice Wells
They barely noticed her, if ever at all. Occasionally, if she showed up at a door at the same time as others, she could shuffle through as it was held by one friend for another. But immediately after they would all swirl around and past her.
By Pam Reeder2 years ago in Fiction
And then there were Two
As I rose and dusted myself off, I heard the gentle nicker of a horse. Stricken I whirled towards it to find peering at me from the shrubbery of the tree line was the rider and horse from the night before. I had been so intent on watching the riders inside The Green Bucket and their leaving along the stream, I had not thought to look elsewhere. I was both alarmed and relieved simultaneously to see it was merely the young rider from the night before. Surely, if this person had hidden from the other riders as well, then I had nothing to fear. Did I?
By Pam Reeder2 years ago in Fiction