Skyline 2014, an annual publisher's anthology produced by Cyberworld Publishing, showcases the juried and invited prose and poetry talent of Central Virginia writers. The title of the anthology is taken from the Skyline Drive, the parkway skipping along the top of the Blue Ridge Mountains in Virginia and providing centering for the region in which the authors showcased here are living and writing. There is no overarching theme for the works in this anthology, so each can be discovered as a fascinating gem of its own luster.
Edited by Olivia Stowe.
Includes works by:
David Black
Lori Dixon
Phyllis Anne Duncan
Justin Fike
Cornelia Clay Fulghum
Jody Hobbs Hesler
Sarah Collins Honenberger
Gary D. Kessler
Phyllis Koch-Sheras
Jean Lancaster
Susan M. Lanterman
Linda Levokove
Sigrid Mirabella
Deborah Prum
Elaine Ruggieri
Marilou Schunter
Elizabeth Doyle Solomon
Olivia Stowe, ed.
Jack Trammell
Leonard Tuchyner
Marvin Welborn
Lavonda Lynn M. Young
Excerpt:
From: "Don't Iron Your Clothes While They're on Your Body No Matter How Late You Are," by Deborah M. Prum
One night years ago I'm supposed to meet my husband and his colleagues downtown at a fancy restaurant at 6:15. It's 6:00. I'm not dressed. My three little kids have not been fed. The babysitter is about to walk in the door.
I'm stirring a pot of Kraft Mac and Cheese with one hand. And I'm running so late that, with the other hand, I'm ironing my black wool pants while I'm wearing them. Worse yet, I'm using a steam iron which is scalding my legs. But I'm desperate to be on time, so I keep pressing ahead.
The phone rings. I try to answer the call on my cordless phone. No luck. Dead battery. So I head across the room to the wall phone in the kitchen, the one with the very short cord that I had been meaning to replace.
A mellifluous voice comes on the line. She says, "I'm calling from The Ladies' Home Journal. May I speak with Deborah Prum?"
Oh no, I don't have time to deal with a subscription spiel. But I had just moved to the South. People here accuse us Northerners of being rude. So, I want to prove them wrong by shedding my Yankee ways. So I say, "This is she, but I have to tell you I currently receive more magazines than I can-"
"I want to talk with you about an idea."
With my short phone cord, I can barely reach the stove, and the orange, goopy mixture of macaroni and cheese begins to burn. "This really isn't a very good time. Could you call back next week?" Or never.
The woman seems taken aback. "Well, I don't think so. We have space for your article in our next issue and the deadline is in a week. I don't think we have the time to discuss it later."
My article? My heart fills with conflicting emotions-elation because I realize she's an editor-someone is finally responding positively to one of my query letters-and panic because I have no idea which query letter.
