Happy Birthday, Ripples on the Pond! Recap, December 8th, 2020.

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Amazon, anniversary, anthology, birthday, debut, flashfiction, goodreads, journey, literary magazines, photos, places, publications, Reviews, Ripples on the Pond, short stories, the world, travel

Another year has passed and I still haven’t published my longer fiction… Sorry, I have been distracted for more than a year watching movies, series, human stories I love. Maybe I should attempt to write reviews on these, not as a critic, but as a spectator. Never mind, maybe I will, maybe I won’t, but I know it’s time to concentrate on my longer fiction and stop procrastinating …

Anyway, I’m updating the below post from a year ago, with a few new photos, some reviews, and links to the stories which appeared on online literary magazines, before and after Ripples on the Pond was published.

The below stories were first published at Sick Lit Magazine. Many thanks to the Editor in Chief, Kelly Fitzharris @kellycoody.

My Paper Memories / The Train

King of Hearts

Angel’s Cove

House of Detachment

Zero plus One

First published at Twisted Sister Literary Magazine, many thanks to the Editor in Chief, Liz McAdams.

The Song of Spring

Shards of Glass

First Published at Spelk Fiction, many thanks to the Editors in Chief, Gary Duncan and Cal Marcius:

Cercis Siliquastrum

Virginia Creeper

The Bosphorus Review of Books, many thanks to the Editor in Chief, Luke Frostic:

King of Hearts

Virginia Creeper

The Naked Street Lamp

Selma of Soghut

House of Detachment

Three Drops from the Cauldron Issue 22, many thanks to the Editor in Chief, Kate Garrett.

Angel’s Cove (Page 51)

The Rye Whiskey Review, many thanks to the Editor in Chief, John Patrick Robbins.

Amber Street

Yellow Mama Webzine, many thanks to the Editor in Chief, Cindy Rosmus:

Shards of Glass

Punk Noir Magazine, many thanks to the Editor in Chief, Paul D. Brazill.

The Song of Spring

The X Factor

Hunter’s Moon

Flash Fiction Offensive, many thanks to the Editors, Jim Shaffer, Jessie Heels Rowlings, and Mick Rose. 

A Kind of Love

A few more photos and reviews:

Ripples at Ölüdeniz, Fethiye, Muğla, Turkey.

https://www.amazon.co.uk/gp/customer-reviews/R13VNBN72FJ9EU/ref=cm_cr_dp_d_rvw_ttl?ie=UTF8&ASIN=B077XCK3SD

5.0 out of 5 stars Read between the words…

Reviewed in the United Kingdom on 31 January 2018

Verified Purchase

Ripples in the Pond is a series of short stories based on life’s big question and learning, as well as a tangle of true stories set in a fictional world. The author has descriptive prose that flows like liquid silk across each and every page, leaving the reader mesmerised in every way. Her characters throw up questions in scenarios akin to a dreamlike landscape, the answers given at the end of every story will open your eyes to a more complex way of thinking, woven in empathy and spiritual belief.

Ripples at Çeşme, İzmir, Turkey.

https://www.amazon.co.uk/gp/customer-reviews/R2NDI1OHFTTD54/ref=cm_cr_dp_d_rvw_ttl?ie=UTF8&ASIN=B077XCK3SD

“Ripples on the Pond” by Sebmen Sanders

Reviewed in the United Kingdom on 12 June 2019

Verified Purchase

“Ripples on the Pond” by Sebnem Sanders

I loved this collection of short stories: evocative, colourful and brimming with imagination. I wonder where Sanders gets her ideas from, and marvel at the level of detail she manages to cram onto the page. I’ve always loved short stories, and this collection is delicious. Thank you!

Ripples in Ankara, Turkey. The cat wants to read it first! 😀

https://www.amazon.co.uk/gp/customer-reviews/R2R8BMF2GF11RO/ref=cm_cr_dp_d_rvw_ttl?ie=UTF8&ASIN=B077XCK3SD

These short stories are indeed like ripples on a pond. They are almost cameos of a life of the character in each story, a ripple that goes outwards to effect either that person or those around, a momentary choice that can change the direction of a life. Ms Saunders is a short-story master; her gift of perfectly portraying just about anything from fantasy to historical, the weird and wonderful to the ordinary, that somehow under her ‘pen’ becomes extraordinary. She has great skill of being able to immediately draw the reader into the story under a short narrative, she understands and portrays all emotions that a human being can experience and you go with it. I’ve even shed a tear or two! This book is a joy; one that can’t be rushed, but treasured and one that can be dipped into and read again and again.

Thank you for reading! Much love and I’ll be back shortly! 🙂

December 8th, 2020, Marmaris, Turkey

The End

Ripples on the Pond  is celebrating its second birthday this week, and she has been travelling to many magical destinations, over the past two years.

From 2019 to 2017, here are some photos with highlights from a few reviews on Amazon and Goodreads :

Ripples on Poros, Greece

“Sublime Power Each of the seventy-one stories creates more than a ripple – it’s a surge that transports the reader to unexpected places, people, and situations existing all over our world and the magical ones beyond. BTW, ‘Weeds’ is a marvel – an environmentalists delight! Ripples on the Pond stays on my nightstand. I will continue to enjoy the abundance of wisdom revealed in such beautiful and powerful stories. Gratefulness to and thanks sent to the author!”

Ripples at Phatrithias, Ithaca

I’m delighted to have tasted the delights of this exceptional flash …

“Rich storytelling guided by intelligence, empathy and keen observation of life. Wisdom cannot be taught, bought or borrowed – yet, it can touch us through words. As I read each story, I wondered, how far willl the Ripples of Wisdom travel, how many lives will be touched? I’m delighted to have tasted the delights of this exceptional flash fiction anthology. Recommended.”

Ripples on Yaya Beach,  Ithaca

Ripples on Yaya Beach, Ithaca

Ripples on the Pond will leave ripples on your heart

“This is a perfect book to leave on the nightstand and read before sleep. Bedtime stories for the soul. These tales invoke emotions spanning from joyful to painful, and at times, feel deeply personal, as if the author has glimpsed inside your life. Ripples on the Pond will be a staple for me to pick up when I need a reminder of what is truly important in life.”

Ripples in Çeşme, Turkey

Sebnem Sanders writes beautifully, often with an anthropmorphic slant that reminds me …

This remarkable compilation of short stories is quite different to anything I have read for a long time. Sebnem Sanders writes beautifully, often with an anthropmorphic slant that reminds me of the stories and plays of Classical Greece, yet with a modern voice. In these vignettes, nature can sometimes take on a life and voice of its own, immersing the reader in a world that is viewed from a different perspective. There is a also a deep sense of reflection in the writing style which I enjoyed and her stories make us think, but in a subtle and contemplative way. I look forward to reading more from this author. Highly recommended.

Ripples in Datça, Turkey

a wonderful collection of stories

“This delightful collection of short stories encompasses a span of human emotions, frailties and flaws as well as a wider perspective on what it means to be human. Sebnem Sanders examines loss, love, despair, joy as well as the philosophical picture of our place in the world and our relationship with nature. In ‘Selma of Soghut’ she explores transience and ageing, in ‘Shards of Glass’ the magical realism of another self performing shocking acts, and in ‘King of Hearts’ an unlikely friendship is struck between a dying man and a sick child.”

Ripples in Stockholm, Sweden

fantastic collection!

 

“Great collection of flash fiction stories, all different genres and focused on human experience & existence. Written in beautiful clear language, cool plotting and awesome heroes!”

Ripples in Florida

“Brought a book along, to read, while on the white sands of the Gulf of Mexico. From Clearwater to Venice, Sebnem traveled along, telling stories the waves often whisper and the gulls cry out loud. This book is for those who oft think and find beauty in everything or yearn to live mindfully. Each story has you linger a bit longer, while waiting for a sunset… or perhaps you are the person anticipating the sun rise. A real treat! A fantastic beach read!“

Thank you very much for all the wonderful reviews, I’m most grateful. 🙂

Season’s Greetings and much love! 🙂

https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/36954446-ripples-on-the-pond

Amazon.co.uk

Not all the stories in Ripples on the Pond have specific locations, but these area few that do.  Trailer for Ripples on the Pond.

View this post on Instagram

A post shared by Sebnem Sanders (@sebnemsanders) on Dec 8, 2019 at 12:46am PST

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Sunset Café

Tags

connection, flashfiction, loneliness, memories, old age, sadness, sunrise, sunset, the past, the present

 

 

 

Like the flickering sunrays at the end of the day, Emily was at the sunset of her life. The golden ball of light would soon sink into the sea, and disappear temporarily, until its rise the next morning. That was a ninety-nine percent probability. She had witnessed this certainty throughout her life of eighty-five years. The one percent she put aside as a possibility for things that might happen otherwise. Just in case.

Yet, her life, as an aged mortal, offered her no guarantees that enabled her to witness the dawn tomorrow morning. That was a fact. Besides, as an old person, her beauty had faded away while the eternal splendour of the sunrise and the sunset remained. People did not possess the rejuvenating powers of the elements of nature, which made them preserve their appeal, at least for the duration of a human lifetime on Earth. Their bodies and organs deformed, though their souls remained young.

A dismal picture. Decay and die. When exactly the decaying process began, she couldn’t put a finger on. Maybe it starts at birth, or after puberty? Who knows? We only begin to see its visual signs in mid-life, during our forties and the fifties, and it’s downhill from there.

Emily was not a religious person, but thanked her stars for still being in command of her body and mind. Her movements, thoughts and decisions still under her control, she had wanted to go to the seaside café to watch, perhaps, her final sunset.

At the Retirement Home she had moved into five years ago, relenting to her granddaughter’s will, watching sunsets and sunrises was not an option due to the location of the building and its small grounds. From her home, at the top of the hill in the village, she had seen a myriad of memorable episodes of the same scenes, with different variations of light, cloud and wind, making each one unique.

On this glorious day in April, she had risen at first daylight with the wish to see the sunset that day. Her transport arranged by the staff at the Home, she settled into her reserved scenic seat at The Sunset Café. Her handbag and the just-in-case cane next to her, she ordered a glass of Merlot to enjoy the show.

Memories of long gone beloveds on her mind, she sipped her drink as the colours in the sky changed from golden to pink and coral. The orange sun turned into a crimson hue, and sank into the sea.

Emily lit a cigarette and inhaled. Thinking about her long lost daughter and husband, tears welled in her eyes. The loss of a child is the hardest to bear in life. I could have gone, she could have stayed. Life is unfair. Still, believing Bill was up there somewhere with her, gave her some consolation. At least, she’s not alone. My darling, you wouldn’t be able to cope with it. She fought a losing battle with the illness.

Emily’s mobile rang. She fumbled in her handbag, found the phone and pressed the key. “Hello.”

“Nana, how are you?”

“I’m fine, sweetheart. Just watching the sunset, maybe for the last time?”

“Oh, Nana, why the last time? Don’t make me sad.”

“Sorry, Natalie, I didn’t mean to upset you. Just memories.”

“I know, dearest. Listen, I’m coming to pick you up next Friday to stay with us over the weekend.”

“Ah, you’re planning a birthday party?”

“Yes, and without you, I’d be sad. Say, you’ll come.”

“Of course, I’ll come. But I’m hoping you’ll accept a cash gift from me. No nice shops around here to find something special for your fortieth, and I might buy the wrong thing.”

“Thank you, darling Nana. We’ll go shopping together, if you like.”

“I’ll enjoy that, sweetheart.”

“See you, Nana.”

Emily put the phone in her bag and sipped the remainder of her wine. The pinkish brush strokes against the pale blue sky seemed to promise a few more sunsets and sunrises in her life.

 

 

 

Photo credit:

The view from Lapad Bay © raspu / Moment Open / Getty Images

 

 

Dust, Smoke and Love

Tags

absence, detachment, dust, flashfiction, ghost, life, loss, love, melancholy, memories, pain, presence, smoke, time

 

Memories gathered dust among the cigarette fumes. The smoke had always surrounded them in times of love and pain. A silent witness to the affair, it rose in spiralled clouds that vanished into the atmosphere, the hint of its existence trailing behind in scent. Consumed yet lingering, like the hurt in her heart.

 

She sat on the open deck of the channel ferry, as the scenery passed before her eyes. Her thoughts eclipsing the images, life seemed to evolve without her participation. Sunsets and sunrises, the moon and the stars no longer evoked feelings of wonder. Their charm exhausted, their meaning lost.  A meandering melancholy had stolen the colours and transported her into a scene from a black and white art film with little conversation and tedious gazes shot in slow-motion.

 

In a state of detachment, she continued to stare into the distance, as the ferry approached the terminal. A scurry of muffled footsteps and snippets of conversation sneaked into her reverie. Silhouettes passed her by and disappeared, until new figures emerged and left at intervals.

 

Cruising back and forth across the channel, the vessel made its scheduled trips, as she sat unmoved through the motion. Daylight turned into night, electric beams lit up the distant hills like a shower of fireflies.

 

A ferry conductor’s voice broke her thoughts. “Lady, this is the last stop for the night. You must get off.” The pixels of his face materializing before her, she tried to command her paralyzed legs to get up and move. Holding onto the barrier, she stood and staggered to the stairs. The abyss frightened her. One step at a time, shaky limbs proceeded towards the set destination. Reaching the bottom platform, she paused and took a deep breath.

The conductor following her asked, “Are you on drugs?”

“If memories are drugs, that’s what I’m on.”

“You lost someone.”

“You could say that, but not to death.”

“Ah, to someone else? That’s even sadder.”

“Is it?”

“You seem like a ghost in the land of the living. That’s bad.”

 

She resumed her steps and froze when she came to the portable bridge connecting the ferry to the quay. Images of falling into the gap and of being squashed between the vessel and the concrete rushed to her mind. Cold sweat broke out on her forehead.

“Here, let me help,” the man said. He held her hand until she landed safely ashore.

“Thank you,” she said, her voice quivering.

“Stop and think,” he said, and smiled. “Fear of death means you want to continue living.”

“Yes.”

“Live it up, then, instead of ignoring it.”

“I’ll try.”

“There are no buses at this hour, you must take a taxi.”

“Thank you for your help. Good night.”

 

Her steps now more confident, she ambled to the taxi rank and took a cab.

 

Home she thought, and the sanctuary of her bed. She needed a rest from the memories. Tomorrow would be a new day, when, perhaps, she would allow them to gather more dust while she followed the cigarette smoke to new destinations.

 

 

Photo credit:

Smoke Works, Cutting Edge by Mehmet Özgür,  Mehmet Ozgur