C Alexandra
LightNews LightNews
banner
nerdcactus.bsky.social
C Alexandra
@nerdcactus.bsky.social
530 followers 330 following 1.2K posts
I'm a #writer of the three Gs: gods, ghosts, and (usually magical) girls.

She/Her. Neurodivergent. Ace. Unapologetically leftist. I even write with my left hand.

Say nice things about Detroit!

#writingcommunity #amwriting #writesky
Posts Replies Media Videos
Pinned
nerdcactus.bsky.social
C Alexandra @nerdcactus.bsky.social · Oct 25
My saga on Eleanor Roosevelt continues in part 3: The White House years.

John FINALLY gets to talk Mrs Nesbitt and her legendarily awful food! We also discuss Eleanor's love interest, Lorena Hickok. And that pesky world war. #history #podcast #womenshistory

www.buzzsprout.com/1855074/epis...
Eleanor Roosevelt pt 3: "But For The Honor Of Our Country." - Mythsogyny
Continuing the epic journey into the life of the finest first lady we've ever had, C takes us through Eleanor's White House years. Detailing her tumultuous relationship with Lorena "Hick" Hickok, Mrs....
www.buzzsprout.com
nerdcactus.bsky.social
For a person who's determined to be left alone, Rei manages to collect a menagerie of children who adore her and for whom she would burn the world. Her childhood was so painful, she just can't stand to see any child suffer. For magical reasons, she can't have biological children. #AwesomeCharacters
charliedeltawrites.bsky.social ❄️Charlie (Chelizabeth) Delta ☃️ @charliedeltawrites.bsky.social · 20h
Tell me more about your #AwesomeCharacters

How does your character feel about children?

Do they like children? Are they children? Do they plan to have them someday? Have them already? Adopt? Not interested at all?

#WriteSky #WritingCommunity #WritingPrompts
January 8, 2026 at 5:21 AM
Reposted by C Alexandra
ceej.online
"what are we going to do with 20,000 ICE agents if we abolish ice" well to start with I think we should all literally spit on them in public for the rest of their lives
January 7, 2026 at 10:24 PM
nerdcactus.bsky.social
7. I, alas, do not have a first line for anything Getaera-related. Just some character studies and worldbuilding scenes. But the project I'm editing has this:

Somewhere in the room, a leaky faucet drummed out a headache in three quarter time.

#FantasyIndiesJanuary #writingcommunity #writesky
Prompts for Fantasy Indies January writing game. Day 7 is First line of your WIP.
January 8, 2026 at 12:00 AM
Reposted by C Alexandra
smoking-gnu.bsky.social
G'morning #WIPSnips! We have a lock on a specific snip for TLC again, with Jennifer really pissing off her appointed council *that she's never met before this court case*.
#WriteSky #WritingCommunity #WritingPrompts
The courtroom falls utterly silent. I can distinctly hear other rooms on either side in full legal swing, even through the walls. Every single eye is focused on me, and I can feel one pair of compound eyes staring daggers. I also feel the widening grin behind me. Driona is enjoying the show immensely. “Interesting…” the Arbiter comments, and his four-fingered hand darts across the surface of the tablet as if searching for something. “What do you think you are doing??” Voliannas hisses in my ear, suddenly close enough to my head for me to feel her body heat. A warm caterpillar. Ergh. “I am doing as I am rightfully entitled to,” I reply, turning my head to face her eye to eye. My voice is as firm as steel, and I lock into a staring contest with her. “Maybe if you had tried listening out there, we’d have other options than this.” Her face drastically contorts, and she seems to be speechless for the first time since we met. Before either of us can say anything more, the Arbiter speaks up from his podium. “Very interesting! The terminology you used, Miss Jennifer, is absolutely spot on! I feel like I have no choice but to acquiesce to your request, if only for a brief interlude. Court proceedings will remain in current stasis until I say otherwise! Miss Jennifer, do you require your representative council by your side in this?” he asks. I glance to my side, to the fuming Voliannas, and shake my head.
January 7, 2026 at 8:40 AM
Reposted by C Alexandra
jrdn-michelle.bsky.social
#wipsnips *lock* vita and max introduce themselves after vita smashes a lamp into poor max’s head. #lesfic #writesky #writingcommunity
I woke up with a deep groan, the pain in my temple radiating throughout my head worse than a migraine. I could feel warm blood dripping down my neck, and a lot of it. My eyelids flew open to see the sanguipir perched on the edge of the bed, eyes locked on my face. My heart sped up, but I remained calm as I studied her, more curious than concerned. “Why did you do that?” I asked her. The room spun around me, and even her features were slightly blurry. She blinked at me as if she didn’t know the answer, then shrugged, her face breaking into a beaming smile. “Thank you for your blood.” “You’re welcome, I guess.” When I tried to bring my hand to my head, I realized that I was handcuffed to the cold radiator I was leaning against. I mustered a soft laugh and she cocked her head to the side. She pursed her lips as though she didn’t know whether to be offended or not. “What are you laughing at?” “Don’t you know who I am?” I asked her in a way that I was sure would not challenge her. “You are a killer,” she said. It wasn’t a taunt, or an insult, but was said so matter of factly it still caught me off guard. I stared at her for a long moment, trying my hardest to remain sitting up straight. “Yes. That’s it? Do you even know my name?” My voice was brittle, both strained and nonchalant. “Yes. I went through your wallet. No cash.” She sounded disappointed. “I could steal your identity, though.” “Please do.” I chuckled and a pleased little smile came over her full, pretty lips. “I like you. I don’t want to kill you, but I will if I have to.” “I’m not going to fight you,” I promised. There were worst ways to go out. “You don’t have to fight me,” she cooed. “You just have to say no again.”
January 7, 2026 at 8:47 AM
Reposted by C Alexandra
sagecollins.bsky.social
In the hospital after the car accident that killed his grandmother, Blake sees Ren for the first time

#WIPSnips #WriteSky #WritingCommunity
From A Paranormal Bromance 2 👻👀
Black text, green background, “lock” highlighted pink The doctor will be by soon to tell us how quick it was. What else are we doing here? She's dead. We aren't waiting to take her home. Dad said something about paperwork. Are we just supposed to sit here in these ugly gray-and-pink-checkered chairs with their hard plastic arms? I raise my eyes to the others in the room. Mom sits beside me. A little girl plays with Legos on the floor in front of her parents. Wonder if she knows why she's here. Doesn't she know it's not time to play? Across from me is a trio of chairs, empty except for the teenage boy that sits on the arm of the last chair. The way he's balanced on the arm annoys me. Like he's mocking the rest of us sitting here. But I can tell he's sad too, from the way he hugs his knees. His straight blond hair hangs messily in his downcast eyes, but then he looks up, and his eyes LOCK with mine, widening in the second before he falls off the chair. And disappears.
January 7, 2026 at 9:18 AM
Reposted by C Alexandra
jangoeswriting.bsky.social
From ‘House Rules’. Prompt - ‘lock’.

#WiPSnips
“I enjoyed it.” Rum, slouched down into the very corner of the sofa, twirled a lock of her hair around a finger, looking blissfully nostalgic about reading an incredibly thick book. “You could smell the ancient knowledge within those pages.” “That was decay. That smell in old books? It’s decay.” Now Twii sat back, flopping against the cushions. Hedric had had enough of Twii’s attitude by now and did something he hoped he wouldn’t regret. “May I ask why you’re so angry? I don’t think I’ve done anything wrong, or Rum, for that matter.” This was tantamount to shouting for Hedric and it made him feel nervous. He could feel a headache coming along. “Whatever it is, I’m sorry.” “Oh, it’s not your fault. Twii’s just angry because they wanted to do something incredibly dangerous and can’t because they actually care about us and don’t want us getting hurt.” Rum patted Hedric’s knee, comfortingly, but all it did was heighten his nervousness at the unexpected touch. “They’re growing as a person.”
January 7, 2026 at 9:20 AM
Reposted by C Alexandra
cfranciswrites.bsky.social
Ess is a con artist with forbidden magic, able to control minds through touch in a world where skin is taboo. Forced into a plot to infiltrate the forum, her predicament is about to get worse with the arrival of her handler over breakfast.

#WIPSnips
“Good morning, Brakia,” Ess said, forcing a bright smile. “Always a pleasure.” The guard strode past, floorboards protesting under her colossal boots as she crossed into the drawing room and planted herself beside the table. She folded her fence-post arms; the leather gave a dry squeal and pulled hard at the stitching. Talissa already sat in Ess’s vacated seat, one brow arched in a wordless order to sit down. Ess did not. She dropped her hands to her hips. “Oh, do make yourself at home. Why not help yourself to my breakfast too? Apparently, I was done with it.” A smile played at the corner of Talissa’s mouth. “You’ve let last night go to your head, Essian. We have work to do.” “I’m aware of that.” “Then perhaps you might stop sulking and join us.” Ess held her stare just long enough to assert the appearance of control before she ambled over, taking the spare seat with grace even Talissa would struggle to critique—though not for lack of trying. Her dark eyes roved over Ess before she issued the smallest nod. “We need to desensitise you.” “To… being interrupted at breakfast?” “To skin and touch.” Ess recoiled, arms locked tight around herself, earning a smile that suggested she’d proven Talissa’s point. Damn it. She probably had.
January 7, 2026 at 9:46 AM
Reposted by C Alexandra
jundlife.bsky.social
Making an escape
From "Children of the Void" or "Voidsent"
#WriteSky #WritingCommunity #WritingPrompts #WIPSnips
I open my window and climb out. It’s not as exciting as jumping out of a window usually would be. It is only a few feet to the ground. My room is in what people call an addition; an afterthought for the house. Just like I am, an afterthought. You would think my room and I would bond over this, but no. I absolutely hate my room, or at least I hate things that my feeble locks have no power over.
January 7, 2026 at 10:19 AM
Reposted by C Alexandra
tarasgeir.bsky.social
Grio’s new appearance isn’t the best. #WIPSnips #WriteSky #WritingCommunity #WritingPrompts
January 7, 2026 at 11:27 AM
Reposted by C Alexandra
sayaashrah.bsky.social
#WIPSnips 7. "Lock"

The empress has given her order.

#ChroniclesOfTheRealms #MileenaSuêòng #WriteSky #WritingCommunity #QueerWriters
“I…” Whatever Mileena was about to say was drowned in the Breath-laced scream of the outraged empress. It flung her across the room, her head slamming against the southern wall. She collapsed in a heap, seeing nothing but distorted shapes through her blurry sight and pounding skull. “Lock them up,” her mother’s voice came from a distant, cold place. “Your Majesty, the princess…?” “If she pities the traitor, then let her share a traitor’s fate.”
January 7, 2026 at 11:46 AM
Reposted by C Alexandra
rvillanova312.bsky.social
#WIPSnips
Word of the day is ‘lock’
Michael trying to break Eve out of her funk, but having a small breakdown of his own
#Writing #WritingCommunity
Before she could finish speaking, Michael passed over her bag and jacket, and he pulled her up by her arm and dragged her outside. They both could see the pair of siblings making their way down the road. "You don't need to drag me outside!" “Eve, take a walk. Go with them. Get your mind off what's bothering you.” He said, before closing the door on her face and locking it. If Eve didn't, Amy would definitely KILL him for this later, but it was worth it. Once she was gone, he took a seat and began tapping his foot. It was quick taps, over and over, until it was like a drum going off. Normally, he would take a Z-pill when feeling like this. Except, he couldn’t find them! Vermin didn’t take them, and Amy and Eve didn't know about them. He got up and began pacing around the room in an attempt to calm himself. “Just relax, Michael.”
January 7, 2026 at 11:54 AM
Reposted by C Alexandra
woodenvelt.bsky.social
Spencer is trying to perform the equivalent of magical surgery on Wren while they are under siege.

From book 2 of my romantasy wip about a priest of the dead and a thief with a heart of gold.

#WIPSnips #WriteSky #WritingPrompts #WritingCommunity #Wrencer
Wren scoured the dark and caught another hint of movement as a slinking form skirted the wall, making for the door on the opposite side. She braced the crossbow against her hip, angling it towards where she knew the rogue would be rather than where he was. She’d have skewered the sly-foot too, but just as she squeezed the trigger, Spencer cut loose another knot in her chest. Her hand slipped and the shot missed the mark by a hair’s breadth. “This works better if you hold still,” he scolded her, his breath a hot puff against Wren’s neck. “I could say the same to you,” she muttered back, slipping another bolt into place. Wren wound the crank, but her prey had given up on stealth in favor of speed. A familiar blackclad figure with flouncing sleeves trimmed in silver and the hump of a mandolin slung across his back sprinted madly for the door. Harlan, you slippery little shit! Good. I won’t feel even a little bit guilty planting flags in your back. “We got a runner, heading for the side door,” Wren shouted. Spencer’s fingers dug into her back but she ignored it, focused entirely on the shadow galloping for the door. “Wren…” Spencer’s voice trembled with strain as he said her name. “Sorry. It can’t be helped,” she offered in apology and squeezed the trigger, loosing her second bolt. The recoil dug into her hip and Wren knew she’d have a bruise to show for it, assuming she lived long enough to appreciate it. She hit Harlan with a glancing blow that shredded cloth and sent him stumbling the last few steps to the door. It wasn’t enough. The blackboot’s hand slapped metal, thumbing back the brace that held the door lock in place. Gears spun and chains rattled, drowning the room in a hiss of metal against stone. A crackle of lightning lanced across the sky briefly painting the minstrel in stark white light as he flung the bar off the door and let the devils inside.
January 7, 2026 at 12:15 PM
Reposted by C Alexandra
5feetofredfury.bsky.social
#WIPSnips #WriteSky #writingprompt

Duels of Blood (ObiDai try to figure out a politician's death. Sorry it's so long 😅)
Daisuke stretched across Obito’s lap. “A slow-acting poison would’ve been smart, too. He’d still make public appearances for a bit, grow visibly more sickly until he could only correspond from the comfort of his bed. Then, one day, he’d just be dead from ‘natural causes’.” “From what we were told, Lord Taizo doesn’t have the patience for either of our methods. It’s more likely he killed the magistrate out of anger.” “There’s the next part of our problem, though—what pushed him that far? Impatience is hardly the same thing as being violent, and nothing the old man said pointed to him being like that.” “But, he did mention that Lord Taizo hasn’t been himself lately.” Obito absentmindedly pulled his fingers through Daisuke’s inky hair, curling the silky locks around them before letting go. “Maybe this is the lead we were looking for.”
January 7, 2026 at 12:19 PM
Reposted by C Alexandra
teisha42.bsky.social
Sharing a bit of my #hopepunk novel for today's #WIPSnips, "lock."

TW: Giant snake
In the living room. (Before yesterday's snip.)

May be biased, but includes one of my fav sentences.

#WritingCommunity #WriteSky #scifi #sff #hopepunk #solarpunk #animals #alien #zoo #alienzoo #snake
#dragon 👀
The massive serpent, looking down, locked its penetrating black-slitted green eyes upon mine, tongue flicking. I’d never had a pet snake, but I knew from my experiences at the pet shop that I was being… somehow evaluated. And I hoped I passed the examination. But apparently, I didn’t. Because then the snake coiled back its head and hissed with such rage that I felt its fury crash against my being, like being struck by a mental tidal wave, urging some primal part of me to curl up and hide. But somehow, I remained sitting on the sofa. And then it unhinged its gigantic jaw. As I stared into a yawning abyss with glistening fangs, I thought that, looking on the bright side, if the snake ate me at least I wouldn’t have to face Damien’s scolding.
January 7, 2026 at 12:33 PM
Reposted by C Alexandra
acturek.bsky.social
#fantasy #WritingCommunity #WriteSky #WIPSnips #lock

He feels awkward in the gathering hall. Seeing children makes it a little better. Here’s the first two verses of their Three Keys game.

- Brother’s Keeper, first book of my fantasy WIP about two brothers bound by a misunderstood power
He did not see Drisal, and he sighed. There were about as many people in the hall as he had ever seen at once, celebrating as if it were the Feast of Duinralm. He walked in, and despite himself he paused by the stone-and-clay fireplace where musicians played for a circle of dancing children. The song was a familiar tongue-twisting chant every child knew. It crossed the circle back and forth, one child asking the questions, the opposite child answering. "Three Keys, three LOCKs, three LOCKS , Three Keys. And which of these a thought unLOCKs Crown, Mound or Spring?" "One Key, one LOCK, one careful thought upon the mark casting down unLOCKs the Crown." Brother's Keeper A.C. Turek
January 7, 2026 at 12:48 PM
Reposted by C Alexandra
professoremily.bsky.social
#amwriting #writingcommunity #writers #writesky

Good morning #WIPSnips, I'm back after a short hiatus! 😁

Here's a little snippet from #Tenement, my dystopian mystery about people living in an infinite building.
We were about halfway down Marlon Hall, passing by a dead-end corridor which didn’t have an official name, since no one lived there. In fact, there was nothing down that hall except for a single door that was always locked, which bore the number #7777777. Because of this, we’d nicknamed it the Seven-Sevens Dead End, or “Dead Sevens” for short. Jon suddenly stopped, backed up a couple of steps. He stared down the dead-end hall. We glanced back at him. “Jon?” asked Kazuo. “What’s s’matter?” “Uh... you guys know the Seven-Sevens door?” he said. “The one that’s always locked?” “Yeah, what about it?” I asked. “Well, it’s, um—it’s, uh—not.” “Shut up!” Kazuo blurted, and both he and I rushed back to see for ourselves. Sure enough, there on the left-hand side of the dead-end hall, door #7777777—which had never once been unlocked in our entire lives—was standing ajar.
January 7, 2026 at 12:59 PM
Reposted by C Alexandra
scarletvmitchell.bsky.social
#WIPSnips

Bayle begins to read the diary of one Mr. Morrison, his most recent predecessor as butler aboard the Hermitage, before it was mothballed for 50yrs.
of the station. Only, a few pages in, however, and Bayle squinted in confusion. The Lady of the House does not appear to think much of me. I was warned to expect that, but I did not expect her to lock me in the Stables for three hours contemplating my death via the abyss. If principle hadn’t been searching for me, I would be there, still. The passage was unnerving, not least of all because Iquardhard Berton had been unmarried at the time he’d abandoned the Hermitage and there was no other woman Bayle could think of that would have been referred to as the Lady of the House. He considered asking his employer about his uncle’s time here. Would he remember Leith Morrison?
January 7, 2026 at 1:03 PM
Reposted by C Alexandra
pjccahill.bsky.social
#WIPSnips - Demon King Daughter - quick view into Himari's world with a touch of worldbuilding. This is before Himari finds Kyoka again after their brief, but powerful connection as children.
#writesky #writingcommunity #fantasy #yafiction #demon #sapphic
-Print/eBook/KU: a.co/d/9WbG4e5
Himari was also the only trainee present without a blessed weapon in hand. Tetsuyo and the rest of their usual group defaulted into a half-circle ahead of her. It was a formation she'd tried to speak out against, but no one would let the Hara heir go forward exposed. No one cared that she could blast most training-level demons away with one spell, shield against almost every attack or curse they could muster, and heal some truly grievous wounds as if they'd never happened. She was the Lord Commander's granddaughter. Nothing else mattered. There were dozens of other paladins arrayed across an enclosed field of sorts. It was more to contain the demons than anything else. In case of some absolute catastrophe, the entire, sand-floored space would lock itself with powerful enchantments of purge and containment spells. Himari rolled her shoulders and neck, then kicked her legs in turns to help stay limber after her stretches. "Don't worry, Hima. You won't have to move a muscle today," Tetsuyo called back over his shoulder with a smirk. He clearly thought this was something to swoon over. Himari allowed herself to show her deadpan stare at the back of his head because the entire group was focused forward that moment. #WIPSnips a Bluesky Writing Community Tag Hosted by rosie-j-potter.bsky.social January 5th through January 11th. January 5 - benefit January 6 - low January 7 - lock January 8 - canvas January 9 - table January 10 - fifth January 11 - climb
January 7, 2026 at 1:05 PM
Reposted by C Alexandra
zprospero.bsky.social
#WIPSnips

The most miraculous thing Virgil has ever encountered.

#WriteSky #WritingCommunity #Writers #AmWriting
January 7, 2026 at 1:31 PM
Reposted by C Alexandra
tempestteapot.bsky.social
#WIPSnips #WritingCommunity #amquerying #writesky #epicfantasy 💙📚 🪐📚

From Epic Fantasy WIP, Waking the Saints. A last evening together before the young king rides to war with a double-crossing general.
“I told you to leave me,” she snapped. She dropped her hands to the table to disguise her emotions. “And I will, dearest.” Tauno wore a long sailor’s shift and boat slippers. “But will you be my braid buddy first?” His navy braids still tangled his hair. “None of my valets understand braids on a man. Landbound demons.” He pulled up a footstool and sat next to her. Lualih traced the worry lines by his eyes. A swift tuck brought his mouth to her hand for a kiss. “It will be alright,” Tauno said. She locked her arms around him, burying her face in the sweet oil scent of his wood-curl hair. “No, no, it’s all wrong. Tauno, you fool, he’s going to kill you.” A few moments of warmth before he pulled away. “Not even Bizal would commit treason.” “He doesn’t have to! Surround you with his cronies and they will all swear it was the enemy that stabbed you. Treason never investigated because you’re dead.” Her fingertips slid across the lacing of his shirt’s yoke, feeling for his heartbeat. “Tauno the Brave cut down by Northmen, when the support for your vanguard is slow in responding.”
January 7, 2026 at 1:45 PM
Reposted by C Alexandra
jaxwolffwrites.bsky.social
#WIPSnips Zizzun workers are cute, but zizzun *queens* are something else.

(From The Nameless Song, a WIP about a guy who turns into a dragon.)
The zizzun at the front of the church bowed her head, then pulled an object from her lap and planted it beside her: a wooden staff, tall and carved to resemble a thin tree whose branches twisted around a crystal ball. She gripped it with her two right hands and pulled herself up, and there she stood, elegant and tall, with wings and black-and-brown tail folded neatly over the back of a pearl gray, sleeveless gown. She turned and cast solid black eyes on the party, antennae twitching out of a long, dark amber face. “They told me you would come,” she said, her voice breathy and quiet. “Let him in, please. I wish to speak with him.” The guard buzzed and bowed low, then peeled himself away from her. Cautiously, Mick stepped forward, eyes locked onto the queen. She practically glided forward, with her feet obscured by the satin and voile of her skirt. At the very center of the nave, she came to a stop and used both of her free hands to curtsy, bobbing her head low without taking those black eyes off Mick. “I am Queen Yarrow of St. Nadia,” she said. “On behalf of my colony, I welcome you.” She extended a hand to him, palm up. “I see that a glamour has been cast over you. Please know that within this temple, you will be safe. Assume your true form, so that we may discuss matters as equals.”
January 7, 2026 at 2:30 PM
Reposted by C Alexandra
amielynnemartin.bsky.social
More Beauty & the Beast-inspired novella snippets... this project really needs a title!

#wipsnips #writesky #comingsoon
Background image is of a multi-floor library with gold trim with a torn paper graphic across the center. Text reads: But Ash’s posture remained relaxed and open. A soft smile tugged at his lips, exposing his fangs. Amalia’s eyes traveled down to the fur poking out from his dress shirt, the first few buttons left undone. Nothing read angry, and that allowed her shoulders to relax.  “I’m sorry,” were the first words that got out, followed by, “I know who set your curse.”  Ash closed the door behind him and flipped the lock. “As do I. I’ve known that for years.”  #wipsnips January 7 - lock
January 7, 2026 at 2:55 PM
Reposted by C Alexandra
adregem.bsky.social
Soryl is standing on top of the bar, watching a fight. #WIPSnips #WIP #AmWriting #WritingPrompts #Writers #Writing #WritingCommunity #WriteSky #FantasySky #DarkFantasy #Necromancy
They circled each other like a couple of roosters, the short one with his fists up and his eyes locked on his opponent, the blond with blood in one eye and his fists already swinging. As their dance of male supremacy brought the shorter one into a bar-facing position, he glanced up at me and winked.
January 7, 2026 at 3:45 PM
Reposted by C Alexandra
butterflyonawheel.bsky.social
#WIPSnips | lock

From Chapter 5 of The Stardust of Failure, our narrator decides to put out a solo album (gasp!) and the album she writes is the sort that commemorates her home territory of the Great Lakes--locks, power plants, and all.
Luna Pier, the town I once called “the most evocatively named piece of nothing in the Great Lakes,” wasn’t much in 2011 and is even less today. The ancient power plant whose three stacks graced its town seal was on borrowed time, and the good diner had even fewer days left on its clock. A perfect setting, in other words, for a journey into Rust Belt melancholy. So Luna Pier began to take shape as a distinctly Great Lakes suite of songs. A distinctly Jeanette suite of songs. “Sunrise over Trenton Channel” commemorated a different power plant than Luna Pier’s derelict, the one downriver from Detroit whose jaunty candy-striped stacks served as a landmark on my few, fading childhood trips on the Boblo boat. I was sort of trying to do for the coal plants that fueled Detroit’s rise to industrial power what Stan Rogers did in commemorating the steamers that hauled the stone and ore and the lock-keepers that kept the boats flowing from the Seaway to the Soo. Old Delray’s fires lit her spark But the mother plant has long been dark With her sisters set to follow Too few tears when the Sisters fell The Mighty Mo sits cold as well A tomb overlooking Sarnia
January 7, 2026 at 3:53 PM