Greetings!

Hope everyone is enjoying this nicer weather- does anyone have good BBQ or grill recipes they’d like to share with other readers?  Send ’em in and I will post them on our   Granary page.   Right now we are continuing to ship out the new books (and big thanks again for all the wonderful feedback and orders you send our way- they are much appreciated).

This Thursday (June 11) at 11pm EST we will be having a CHAT WITH DARA JOY, so please come on by.  If you haven’t come in before, it is a simple sign-in procedure.  (and you can always email me if you have any problem signing in, so I can walk you through it.)

Here is the direct link to the chatroom for Thursday:

http://officialdarajoy.com/chat/

TASTE OF THE DEVIl PRINT QUANTITY UPDATE:

THERE ARE ONLY A FEW COPIES LEFT.  If you need one, be like a Familiar and pounce : }   Go to:

http://officialdarajoy.com/MarketPlace/TOTDPrintmarketplace.html

See you Thursday!
Best,
Cory

Happy Mother’s Day to all of our friends.

Love,
From Dara and everyone at OfficialDaraJoy.com

Ahoy, mateys!

Just wanted to let everyone know we just put the cover up!

TO CHECK OUT THE COVER GO TO:

http://www.OfficialDaraJoy.com/MarketPlace/TOTDmarketplace.html

Best,
Cory-Webmaster
www.officialdarajoy.com
DEATH BY PLOOT PLOOT and IN KIRKPATRICK’S WOODS are available in ebook form. To order got to:
http://officialdarajoy.com/MarketPlace/marketplace.html

Artwork by Don Maitz

Avast ye, mateys!
We have big news at OfficialDaraJoy.com, so grab your best seafarin’ garb and come prepared to go adventuring on the bounding main, arrrrrg, as Ms Joy is about to take you on a voyage filled with action, passion, laughs and plenty of grog in her brand new release,TASTE OF THE DEVIL!

Ms Joy’s first FULL LENGTH NOVEL in many a year, so don’t miss out on this amazing tale of roguish love and tom-foolery, action and rousing adventure on the high seas, told as only Dara can, with a plenty of lusty rogues to go around for the lot of ya!

Written for the love all things pirate.

So, if you fancy a good rousing tale o’ the brethren life in the vein of Pirates of the Carribean, well, then, me hearties, this is the book for you!

So place yer orders now to get aboard, ye scalawags, and TASTE OF DEVIL will be sure to be sailing yer  way!  The Panther and his crew are a’ waiting on yer timely arrival with nothing but smiles and innocence in their dastardly hearts, arrrrg.

And now for the articles of fact:

This is a special, limited E-BOOK edition.   This is a brand new full length novel by Dara Joy. The cost of this edition of TASTE OF THE DEVIL is  $10.50.  There are no shipping or handling charges.

WE ARE TAKING ORDERS NOW.  THE BOOK WILL BEGIN SHIPPING WITHIN TWO WEEKS. (Please allow us up to 2 weeks once we start shipping to send your book out, as we expect the volume of orders to be high and we are a small outfit taking care of multiple orders.
Thanks.)

TO ORDER THE BOOK GO TO:

http://www.OfficialDaraJoy.com/MarketPlace/TOTDmarketplace.html

TO READ AN EXCERPT GO TO:

http://www.OfficialDaraJoy.com/TheLibrary/taste_of_the_devil.html

Now go order the book, ye salty tars, arrrrrr!

Best,
Cory-Webmaster
www.officialdarajoy.com
DEATH BY PLOOT PLOOT and IN KIRKPATRICK’S WOODS are available in ebook form. To order got to:
http://officialdarajoy.com/MarketPlace/marketplace.html

Happy New Year to everyone from all of us at OfficialDaraJoy.com. Hope everyone has a great holiday!

Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays from all of us at OfficialDaraJoy.com

Take a stroll over to our newly revised pet page.

http://officialdarajoy.com/Stables/stables.html

It is sure to bring a smile to your face. If you would like to have your pet join the parade of pets just send your photo’s to me at QASK89@prodigy.net.

Best,
Cory

Over the past several years Dara has received numerous requests for an unusual story she wrote called IN KIRKPATRICK’S WOODS. As a loving tribute to the romance genre, the story seemed to hit a high note with many readers. Since then, the story (actually, the entire compendium) has been very hard to find. Recently, the site received so many letters asking about this story that she decided to release it in electronic form for a limited time. For this special ebook format, Dara has decided to issue a new, second edtion. The story has been lightly expanded for enrichment of the tale. (The length of this story is about the same as Death By Ploot Ploot). If you have not read this story before you are in for a real treat. (It is spooky that the things she wrote about in 2003 regarding the economy and unchecked greed are a reality today, which is why I think we have been getting so many requests for this story lately) Hey, we all need a little something to uplift us.

Here is a sampling of reviews from the first edition:

“In Kirkpatrick’s Woods reads like a beautifully written love letter to her fans. You will treasure it forever.”
Cecily Brown

“I was amazed at how well-written it is. Beautifully written, in fact, and all shades of unconventional.”
Technoelfie

“Kirkpatrick has become one of my favorite hero’s. He’s pretty much EVERYTHING you want in a man.”
Michelle

“I did not want [the] story to end.” Shelly Freeman

TO ORDER THE BOOK SIMPLY GO TO:

http://officialdarajoy.com/MarketPlace/KWmarketplace.html

TO READ AN EXCERPT FROM THE BOOK GO TO:

http://www.OfficialDaraJoy.com/TheLibrary/in_kirkpatricks_woods.html

Hope to see you in chat next Saturday!

Best,
Cory

P.S. If you would also like to order the Matrix of Destiny story “DEATH BY PLOOT PLOOT” please go to:

http://officialdarajoy.com/MarketPlace/DPPmarketplace.html

P.P.S. And be sure to check out this link.

http://brokershandsontheirfacesblog.tumblr.com/

Greetings!
To all of the readers who are writers- this one is for you.
Love,
Dara

THE WRITER’S RED BALLOON


One of my favorite short films, THE RED BALLOON (fr. Le Ballon rouge, directed by Albert Lamorisse), was recently re-released in the United States and if you have Comcast cable, you might be able to catch it ON DEMAND. (Not to be confused with FLIGHT OF THE RED BALLOON (fr. Le Voyage du ballon rouge), currently showing in Indy theaters and directed by the visionary artist Hou Hsiao-hsien. Hailed as an adaptation of the original film, FOTRB is, in my opinion, a sharp departure from the original.)

For those of you not familiar with THE RED BALLOON, the story unfolds as little Pascal journeys to school and along the way comes across a red balloon caught up in a lamppost. From the very first scene of this classic, we get to know this boy as he lovingly bends down to pet a mewing, stray cat in the war-ravaged streets of Paris. We are not surprised when Pascal climbs the post to free the balloon.



Of its own accord, the red balloon begins to follow the boy through the streets of post World War II Paris and the magical adventure that unfolds is breath-taking as the two companions, boy and balloon, traverse the cityscape. As beautiful as ever, this masterpiece still speaks eloquently to the higher self, to our dreams, to love, to friendship, to hope, to imagination, and to the power of faith.

Not bad for a thirty-four minute film with barely any dialogue.

In the years since I’ve last seen THE RED BALLOON, I have become a professional writer. Writers often live (and die) by dialogue. Entranced by a different perspective this go-around, I began to view the film as an allegory for the writer.

After all, as writers, we all have our red balloons, don’t we?

That special idea. That wisp of a tale that teases us along the edges of cognition and won’t let go. . . That playful balloon, laughing, coercing– a companion that follows us everywhere. (If you are a writer, your red balloon continually taunts you to come out and play, giving you no peace until you give in and “do” it.)

All of the sweet stories that writers hold dear become as alive and vibrant to them as the red balloon does for Pascal.

In the film, the boy and the balloon visit a flea market, viewing odd items (although none could be as odd as the pair). The balloon floats in front of a gilded mirror as if posing and laughing at itself all at once. A few adults smile, or ignore them; but the surrounding children watch the pair with envy. Throughout the course of the film, these children will eventually become a mob.

When the balloon tries to follow Pascal into his classroom, the stiff-necked teacher firmly puts it outside, ignoring its wonders and impossible potential. To a writer, this scene is a clear allusion to establishment rejection. (The notion that if it is outside the box, it will be put outside.) The person who should be inspiring Pascal, is, instead, sadly doing his best to strip away any sense of wonder. His grandmother also refuses to let the balloon in her house, promptly tossing it outside as it tries to follow Pascal in. Clearly, no family support for Pascal’s dream, either.

On the street, the red balloon becomes attracted to a little girl’s balloon and for a while all four hit it off famously. (Another truism: it takes a writer to grok another writer.)

Eventually, the mob of children catches Pascal and his balloon. Like a confederacy of dunces, the miniature pundits beat the balloon to death before Pascal’s horrified eyes. Caveat scriptor. Let the writer beware.

But all is not lost.

Even as Pascal mourns the terrible treatment and death of his red balloon, hundreds of balloons from all over the city come to him, lovingly surround him, and in one of the most magnificent, soul-stirring scenes on film, lift him into the air and carry him off.

Oh, yes.

So to every writer struggling to hold on to a vision–

Remember Pascal and his red balloon.

When I was a little girl, my father took me to Arlington National Cemetery.

We stood in the middle of a sea of gravestones, silent.

My small hand in his, we came to the Tomb of the Unknowns. With tears in his eyes, my father told me that these heroes names were lost to history. He explained to me why soldiers wear dog tags. In the distance, a flag-draped coffin was lowered into the ground- the latest addition to the silent neighborhood. Once, someone in this crowd laughed at a movie, or held hands with his girl, or patted the heads of her children. The flag, snugly folded into its triangular nest, was then handed to the next of kin.

We stood before JFK’s final resting place, with its flickering gas-lit torch.

The three of us, Bostonians.

We wept.

“That flame never goes out,” my father said.

That night I pulled the covers up to my chin in the darkened bedroom and I thought of that flame forever burning; forever chasing shadows away. I drifted off to sleep comforted by the thought that no matter how dark it became- there in Arlington National Cemetery, a torch always burned.

That was many years ago. My father is gone now. . . but, still, the light remains.