Hello, I’m Evelyn Cole, Contemporary Author of Adult fiction, Modern Adult Poet, gourmet cook, whole-mind writer on the power of the subconscious mind, and perpetual ping pong player.
You will find here a variety of intriguing ways to be entertained and informed. My novels do not fall into any genre more specific than “adult fiction”. Each one differs thematically. My poetry is easy to read and understand. It runs the gamut of subjects that will hit your gut, your heart, or your funny-bone.
I can’t play ping pong with you here, but I can show you how to feed your friends instead of your frenzy by hosting intimate dinner parties. Just click on my Astrological, Philosophical Cook Book. Choose any chapter.
If you’d like to coordinate your conscious and subconscious minds, send for Brainsweep, a six week course in writing by hand—fast, sometimes with your non-dominant hand. You’ll be amazed at what your hands can tell you. And, if you’d like a light-hearted look at the Emotional Freedom Technique, click on Your Inalienable Right to Happiness.
Here’s a poem about finishing novels that earned $100 in a contest:
The Dear Departed
Another beach-born ego bit the sand.
It took a year to make her,
another to describe her dance.
I just left her in Alaska and I’m lost.
Sheesh, I finally learned her language,
used “like” instead of “as,”
let “fun” precede a noun; “Man” a thought,
tossed gerunds in the trash.
Her name, ¬Felicia Wood.
The one before was Hal.
The others I’ve forgotten now
though I mourned them one and all.
I feel a bleakness always
when an altar ego leaves,
goes away to college, so to speak,
before a new one is conceived.
John Updike must have really mourned
when he let old Rabbit go.
the tears I shed were more for him
though Angstrom is the one I know.