Holiday Gifts

Started your Christmas shopping? A good book is a terrific present for your friends to curl up with on chilly winter nights. My newest book, Our Mothers and Daughters, can be ordered through any local bookstore or online at Amazon.Your book-loving friends will thank you.

In this book, you’ll learn more about Opal Pratt’s mother. You’ll also meet the little girl too savvy to get into the predator’s car, the mother struggling between her teenage daughter and invalid mother, the pre-teen who discovers that the grass isn’t always greener on the other side, the mother who meets the adult version of the baby she put up for adoption, and many more. There is sadness and laughter, failure and success, and loss and discovery – everything that is life

Simple Wisdon

Once upon a time, I worked for a company in Little Rock where there was a clerical aide we’ll call Mickie. Probably in her mid-to-late-40s, she was completely uneducated — couldn’t read or write but was committed to her job and possessed a good heart and her own special wisdom. A few times we had big snow days that closed schools and day care, and I had to take young Alex to work with me. Mickie would take him with her to deliver mail throughout the building, make copies and other tasks. She helped keep him busy all day.I learned a valuable lesson from Mickie which I have carried with me for all these years. There were times when a hubub was stirring, but Mickie declined to be caught up in it. She’d say, “That be THEY problem.” Right. Not all crazy-making needs to drag us into the proverbial mud puddle. It’s important to assess the situation and, when appropriate, determine “That be THEY problem.”

New Poem – Respite

Come into my arms, dear man,
And hide from the bruising intrusions of the worl
No longer alone and vulnerable like a naked bulb
Casting scant light in some dreary hall
Come into my warmth and claim the sanctuary
Of my breasts.

Accept the faith that hides not far behind
My eyes.
Yield to the strength of my slim hands.
Increase my light with yours.
Trace your plans and hopes with gentle hands
Across the whiteness of my belly,
But leave a trail we’ll find again
In the dark nights of our fears.
Give me your tears as easily as your smiles.
Then rest with me matching breath for breath
‘Til the world can no longer hold nor harm us.
Come into my arms, dear man,
And let me love you.

Book Signing Video

Join me for a peek into the first part of a recent book signing. Two friends did me the favor of presenting excerpt readings from two stories in my newest book, Our Mothers and Daughters. They were just terrific. All of my books are available on Amazon and can be ordered from your favorite bookstore.

Book Signing

Friends joined me to present my newest book, Our Mothers and Daughters, at a July book signing. Linda (left) read an excerpt from the touching Angels With Only One Wing, a story about two lonely people, a little girl and an elderly, immigrant woman, who form a strong bond. Dan did a reading from The Pinch, which looks at a poor Irish family during the Memphis 1878 Yellow Fever epidemic. They did a terrific job, and the event was fun and successful.

May be an image of 3 people, including Diane Thomas-Plunk, people sitting and indoor

Excerpt from New Book

This excerpt is from my new book, Our Mothers and Daughters. The story is The Pinch, set in the immigrant section of Memphis during the 1878 Yellow Fever epidemic. The book is available on Amazon.

“Fee was everyone’s best friend. She was adored, and Kate was never jealous because she knew, more than anyone, just how special her sister was. Of all the redheaded children in the family, Fiona’s coppery hair shone the brightest. Her ruddy cheeks were like summer apples. She ran and skipped instead of walking. She moved so lightly that she nearly took flight, but her blue eyes were deep, and had the look of an old soul. The air around her seemed to shimmer. She laughed and giggled, and was Ma’s little helper, particularly with the new babies. Though he loved all his children, Fee was the light in Michael James’ eyes. She was the air that filled his lungs. A sprite who gave him hope. Fiona ran to him when he came home from his job. They played games, and she danced and twirled in circles when he sang. When the other babies died, it was Fiona who sat in Da’s lap, and kissed his tears. Mary Elizabeth and Michael were certain that she was an angel, and a great blessing to their family. They quite nearly worshipped the celestial being who lived in their tenement apartment.”

Pre-order Now

Diane Thomas-Plunk’s newest short story collection, Our Mothers and Daughters, is now available for pre-sale orders on

The relationship between mother and daughter is like a silken ribbon occasionally dotted with thorns. The independence of one increases as the other’s diminishes. The vibrancy, the beauty of the younger blossoms as the older fades. Top down advice becomes bottom up resistance. There is always the push-pull between them, yet the bond forever endures whether from devotion or guilt.