Online Publishing

SUNNYHUCKLE

Sunnyhuckle is an online magazine created by me and dedicated to entertaining and enriching readers—heart, mind, soul and body—through the sharing of stories, insights, inspirations, thoughts, ideas and perspectives. Every Sunday morning from September 2014 to September 2015, I edited and published original content created by myself or by others. I'm pretty proud of my efforts to cull through social media feeds, e-mail contacts and friends, and even just ask people face to face to write about what inspires them. Whether or not they considered themselves a writer wasn't the point. The point was to share a unique perspective that might resonate with another person online. While posts are no longer published weekly, the site is still live and ready for any new article that needs sharing.

Below are a few links to and excerpts from this online magazine:

One huckle, please. Sunny side up.

...Just a handful of months ago, I decided to finally pursue an idea that had taken hold of me a few years back: Create my own publication. This is actually an idea that first intrigued me as a kid, sitting in my front yard with paper, a pencil, and a stapler. But, with the advent of blogs and the virtually cost-free platform to self-publish online, a magazine seemed way more possible now that I wouldn’t have to staple every issue together. The only thing left to figure out was with what kind of content I should fill my lovely, non-stapled magazine! After much thought, I decided to focus on building stories that inspired and lightened the heart; that didn’t have political finger pointing or ugliness; and that were fun, entertaining, and enriching. I wanted to write what I love: quick reads, inspiring reads, quirky reads, entertaining reads. And while I’m not drawn to sap or over-the-top sentimentality, I do love a heartfelt and sincere tale, as well as a good cry, every now and then...

Chicken Salad and Cigarettes

The lunchtime air was soft and inviting. Late summer in central Mississippi is usually miserably hot; but, the afternoon temperature that day earlier this year hovered in the mid-70s. Perfect for getting out of the office at lunch to walk through downtown Jackson and pick up something to eat. I didn’t notice him when I first entered Smith Park; I was too busy watching the water slosh and gurgle as it funneled through the park’s impressive concrete canal water feature. But, as I neared the park center, I saw him, an older man with long, scruffy gray hair. He was shuffling across the walkway, hunched over and burdened with a tremor that was noticeable from more than 20 yards away...

The High Life

Larry Harpe was more than just some boy sitting across from me in Coach Pisarich’s 1984 junior high civics class. With his razor-sharp quips, fearless antics, feathery strawberry hair, upturned Polo collar, tight jeans, and Converse high tops…Larry was, to me, the epitome of effortless cool. Memories of his good looks and brash humor have drifted in and out of the transoms of my mind since our one year as classmates at Nichols Junior High School before his family moved from Mississippi to Illinois in the mid ’80s. But he has always stayed with me, a red-headed piece of lore from my childhood of a larger-than-life character who has grown to represent the potential and exuberance of living. Okay, I realize that’s a lot to place on the shoulders of a seventh grader. But Larry, as it turns out, has pretty much lived up to the lore...

Four Things Santa Taught Me

...I think the greatest lesson I have ever learned from Santa is that wonder and imagination are powerful ways to create emotional connection; instill values and drive; and teach important life lessons. Nothing was ever better than the first few moments every Christmas morning when my eyes would fly open long before sun up. I could see the faint glow of the tree lights shining from the living room and down the hallway. I would throw back the covers and run to Beau and Ben’s room, my teeth chattering and bare feet freezing in the cold that only old wooden floors could offer. After being shaken awake by me, my brothers and I would run past the living room, hiding our eyes so as to not spoil the surprises that awaited (well, maybe we peeked just a little…or a lot if the peeking was done by Ben). When we reached our parents’ room, we would wake them with our loudly whispered suspicions of “I think Santa came!” The gifts were never more important than being together as a family. Never. And, when late-comer Cooper was born years down the road, we would all thrill at the opportunity to enjoy the richness of Santa and Christmas morning all over again through Coop’s young eyes...