Beth Anderson is passionate about words, art, music, photography and much more. Beth spins stories as she did during a quarter of a century teaching high school English students. Her mystery-in-progress, The Quarry’s Child, draws on her love of swimming, lakes, art, and the quest for answers. Beth is one of the founding members of the Upper Hudson Valley Chapter of Sisters in Crime, a graduate of the FBI Citizens Academy, a survivor of a visit to an active aircraft carrier while it was at sea, and a published poet in Soundings, a literary journal.
My Latest Posts
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- Lost with paper…It’s true. My day contains spurts of paper crafting while in my head I’m working on the plot of a mystery novel. So, whether paper crafting or writing, it’s all…More
- What’s in a word?“Well, I was born in the sign of water/And it’s there that I feel my best/The albatross and the whales, they are my brothers/It’s kind of a special feeling/When you’re…More
- Let’s talk…This should be interesting. There is so much stuff whirling in my conscious mind. I’ve decided on three different blog posts, so far. Deep inside I know if I write…More
- Oh, the woe of us…The iconic symbol of freedom, the Statue of Liberty, has graced America’s shores since its dedication in 1886 (two years before the birth of my grandmother). Its fabled arm, holding…More
- Why wander?It’s a valid question and deserves some good thought. Travel is an important component of many people’s lives. I’m referring in this piece about voluntary travel, the type of travel…More
- True colors?At long last I’m letting some true feelings bubble to the surface in the hope that the “poison” carried in the bubbles will dissipate once the bubbles burst. I do…More
- All aboard!“Mental wounds not healing Life’s a bitter shame I’m going off the rails on a crazy train…” I trust, and know, I will eventually be back on the rails but gee whiz…More
- It means something, I suppose…I don’t intentionally look for symbols or meaningful patterns in life. They often hit me like in the old Monty Pythons sketch where they slapped each other’s faces with fish.…More
- It occurred to me…As a lapsed Catholic, I am often critical and/or scornful of the traditions in which I was raised. That’s my issue, no one else’s. Recently, Grace crept in and allowed…More
- I know it’s nice outside, but…As a child I spent a great deal of time outdoors. Any type of physical play ruled the day. Blessed to have been raised to enjoy and explore the outdoors,…More
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Stories Are For Eternity 