Welcome
I was born into a coal mining family in a coal mining valley in a small town, Sparwood, BC, deep in the heart of the Rocky Mountains. I left home at an early age, but last year, after many wanderings and amazing adventures, I turned home again.
I intend to live happily ever after in a house I’ve converted into a B&B--The Blue Collar. It had a resident spirit named Virgie whom I talked to regularly, but lately she's moved on.
Born with a genetic defect that makes reading and writing as necessary as eating and breathing, I’m always working on the current book, revising the last, and imagining the next.
I’ve written enough paperbacks to fill a generous couple of shelves. Writing brings me intense joy, satisfaction, and a deep sense of humility—how lucky I am to be a storyteller, and to have people out there who read my work.
Recently, I sponsered a short story contest, and the entries convinced me that there's a whole new generation of talented youngters out there. Below is one of the remarkable entries. Thanks to all the other entrants, your stories were amazing, and will be published on this website in the coming weeks.
BLUE COLLAR B&B, ADVENTURES IN HOSPITALITY, is my maiden venture out of romance and into memoir. It’s about running my first B&B, the Blue Collar, for five years in Vancouver, B.C.
It's for sale on Amazon.com, Amazon.ca, and on both of my websites.
You can also ask for it in major bookstores, ISBN 978-1934938690.
Of all the books I've written (fifty five or so,) this one is the most personal. It's about guests, my eccentric neighbors, quirky friends and me. I so hope you read and enjoy it. Let me know, won't you?
Thank you for visiting me. Thank you for reading my books. Check out another amazing contest entry at the bottom of this page.
I wish you joy and love and the absolute thrill of creation, however you choose to pursue it.
SHORT STORY CONTEST
Story by Alison Shewfelt, 11 years old, of Houston, Texas
A big truck is parked in front of our new beautiful house.
Children outside playing on the road and in their yards.
Boxes keep coming in and packers keep coming out.
As we drive around our neighborhood seeing all the trees and
Flowers swaying with the breeze.
I call the best room and Miranda calls it too, so we decide
To share the room on either side.
When the boxes all are inside we rip open the seals and
See all our belongings that have been stashed away for so
Long.
The boxes are empty and in a large pile, while mom and
Miranda go shopping for food.
Dad and I devour the big pile of boxes.
Slice and fold, slice and fold.
Neighbors come over and say “Good day,” to dad and I.
They talk a while and then say, “Goodbye.”
“It’s getting dark,” exclaims dad, “we’d better go in.”
As mom and Miranda drive in with food for dinner, I
Thank God for the wonderful move!
By Alison Shewfelt