THE CRONE

 Mt story titled "The Crone" is published in this volume of Downstate Story.

Downstate Story

www.downstatestory.com       www.wiu.edu/users/mfgeh/dss

 

___________________________________________

Elaine Hopkins, publisher ehopkins7@prodigy.net

1825 Maple Ridge, Peoria, IL. 61614

phones: 309/688-1409; 309/231-5758

 

FOR IMMEDIATE RELEASE Further information:

Elaine Hopkins 309/231-5758

ehopkins7@prodigy.net

 

DOWNSTATE STORY VOL. 30 NOW AVAILABLE FREE ON THE WEB

 

Nine new short stories by Illinois and Midwestern writers are featured in the 2021 edition of Downstate Story, Peoria's only literary magazine for fiction. Downstate Story is now published only on the Web at www.downstatestory.com

 

The writers in this issue are: Jim Wilhelm of Peoria, IL, Pepper Bauer of Mapleton, IL.., Jim Courter of Macomb, IL.;  Jackson Courter of Urbana, IL., Jason Sibert of Maryville, IL.; Laura McPherson of Addison, IL.,  Audrey Carli of Iron River, MI.; Arlene Shovald of Salida, CO.; Elise Warner of Jackson Heights, NY.,  and Natalie Dale of Hillsboro, OR.,

 

Most of these outstanding writers have long lists of publications in other literary magazines, and some have authored books.

 

Published by Downstate Story, Inc., an Illinois not-for-profit corporation, the annual publication aims to present original fiction by Illinois writers and writers with ties to Illinois and the Midwest as a quality alternative to today's mass-market publishing.

 

Downstate Story’s Facebook page can be accessed at www.Facebook.com/downstatestory

 

EDITORS/PRODUCERS NOTE:

The magazine is available free on the Web. Interviews with the authors are encouraged and can be arranged. Contact us, or them. Their email addresses and other information are included below.

 

Please help us notify the public about this unique venture.

 

(continued on p. 2)

DOWNSTATE STORY, Vol. 30, THE FACTS

 

1. Politically correct. Contributors paid for their work. No government funds used.

 

2. Something for everyone. Stories reflect diversity of authors, and include romance, horror, fantasy, sci-fi, mainstream fiction.

 

3. Promotes quality reading. Content realistic but not X-rated.

 

4. Promotes Illinois and Midwestern writers.

 

5. Unusual concept for the arts. Provides outlet for local writers and artists to reach

local audiences free.

 

6. Original work. None ever published before.

 

7. Quality work. Stories and art comparable to work in Harpers, Atlantic, The New Yorker and top literary magazines.

 

8. No poetry.

 

9. No advertising.

 

 

DOWNSTATE STORY, Vol. 30. AUTHORS

.

Authors: (Telephone numbers available on request)

Jason Sibert, Jasonsibert@hotmail.com

Jim Courter, je-courter@wiu.edu

James Wilhelm, IllinoisjamesP@comcast.net

Laura McPherson, lauralmcpherson@gmail.com

Jackson Courter, j.courter3@gmail.com

Elise Warner, elisewarnerb@aol.com

Arlene Shovald, witcharlene@gmail.com

Audrey Carli, audreycarli@yahoo.com

Natalie Dale, nataliedaleauthor@gmail.com

Pepper Bauer, pepperbauer@att.net

                                                       

***

WINDOWS

     When I was a kid, my mom and I took the train from New York to Richmond, Virginia to enjoy the southern hospitality of my dad’s 

family for a week. I spent the long hours of travel gazing out the window, wondering about the lives of people who lived in tumble 

down shacks situated near the railway. Sometimes I could peer into windows without shades and get a glimpse of a table or a wood

crate, a baby being held close to a thin body. Boys waved to the train as it passed, I imagined they were wondering where we came 

from, what we would do once we arrived at our destination. Sometimes the boys ambled past accompanied by an all-American dog, 

occasionally rough-housing with each other. Once I spied an elderly man sitting on his porch, newspaper covering his face, cane at his 

side. He woke as we passed and I thought I saw—perhaps it was my imagination taking over—a dark look pass slowly over his 

sun-burnt face.

     A boy—maybe my age—sat swinging his legs at one of the station where the train made a stop. I smiled but he ignored me. When 

he  stood and I saw he wasn’t any taller than me and weighed less. Did he want to get on the train and leave his town, move to another 

state, see the country, find out about the world. Find someplace where there was plenty to eat, and more to see than trains rumbling 

past. A shinier future. Something he could believe in. The train passed fields--I saw a cow lunching on grass--my first cow and a horse 

as bony as the boy and I wished, wished I had the power to make his life better.

    

     Some days I take the bus at Port Authority and watch a kaleidoscope of humanity rushing through on their way to who knows 

where. People stopping for a minute to pick up a free newspaper. Military personnel and police studying everyone who passes. 

Teenagers talking on their cell phones, ignoring everyone trying to get by. Derelicts opening the heavy doors that lead into the 

concourse, holding out a hand hoping for a tip that would buy them a coffee or something to eat. Men and women in suits, carrying 

leather briefcases and looking important—are they bankers, lawyers, engineers? Women with accents that make me try to guess which 

country they left to make a home here. Aides? Housekeepers?  A visitor taking a bus to a hospital or home to visit a sick friend or 

relative.

     I want to know more about them all, their lives, their hopes, their dreams and when I get home I will sit at my computer and make 

up a story that will tell me about their lives.

FAMILY STORIES

   

    Mother's day is Sunday and I miss my mom. She's been gone awhile now and I remember the good times, the fabulous stories she told, the encouragement she always gave me and the woman I wish was here so I could share the stories I make up with her.
     When I was a little girl, she always made up tales to pass the time on rainy days and told me, "true yarns," about the family. Mom would never hesitate when it came to adding local color. For a while she sold inexpensive hats to make a few extra dollars and she was quite the salesperson. She'd adjust the hat on the customer and tell her how becoming it was. Tilt the hat in another direction and encourage the lady to look in the mirror. "You look just like the model in Vogue, that's the way she wears the hat." The customer always bought the hat, sometimes two or three and returned often to buy more.
     Mom grew up in Rhode Island and told me how she and my Uncle Johnny were crossing a field when a bull attracted by her red dress began to chase them. They ran faster and faster and took refuge in the Old Soldiers Home where they were served cookies and milk. After my uncle returned from the war, mom told him he would always be able to live at that home when he was old and frail.
     There was the story about the landlord of the little house that they rented visiting them at Thanksgiving. Grandpa--a new immigrant with seven children--thought the landlord wuld disposess them. Instead, he gifted grandpa with seven chickens--one for each child.
     My favorite story is the one mom told about the Russian Countess who had no children of her own and took a great liking to my Aunt Betty. When the Cossacks rode through their town, the Countess hid my grandparents and Aunt Betty until they could escape to America--the promised land. My cousin said it was a neighbor who hid the family but I like the story much better the way my mother told it.

Family stories, anyone?

HAPPY MOTHER'S DAY

Elise

LOST AND FOUND

Photo by Olgalis Dreamstime.com

    

     Sometimes a former love will become a character in one of my short stories or books. The outer appearance will change—at times it’s an improvement—but his essence becomes part of a new man. The outer shell may be used later in another character.  I guess you can change someone for the better although we’ve been told you shouldn’t even try—but that’s in real time not in fiction.

     The first—a neighbor with the stereotyped red hair and freckles usually found in descriptions of mischievous boys—pulled my braids because he liked me. Much to my mother’s dismay, I chopped off the braids. In a short story, the hair remained and a romance began.

     In my teens, I danced all evening with a fellow who made me feel like the most beautiful, intelligent and charming woman in the world. But we were two different faiths and he was studying to be a minister. I later heard he became a television producer instead. His faith lost a lot of converts but I gained writing material.

     Then there was my season as an apprentice in summer stock. I met an actor who was jobbed in one week to star in a play and we met after the show. He wanted to go into the wood and explore, I just wanted to talk about Shakespeare. We both were disappointed. Both in theatre and writing—use the material.

     As we mature, we often travel different paths from people we once held close but memories come back when we write and their traits, manners and features often appear in our stories.

     I offer a toast to those that we once loved and haven’t completely lost.

Bests,

Elise