Jennifer Brookins

Author of Tharon Ann, Living Under the Weavers Hut, and India with Backpack and a Prayer

About Jen

Author and poet Jennifer Brookins is a former Broadway and television actress living in Princeton, New Jersey with her husband, musician Doug Brookins. They frequently travel to India, and based upon their experiences, she wrote India with Backpack and a Prayer - the sequel to her first book Tharon Ann. She is also the author of Living Under the Weaver's Hut - an illustrated book of poetry.

A Memoir

5/5

A beautiful story of bravery, tragedy, independence

Tharon Ann, by author Jennifer Brookins is a wonderful read! A young woman begins her journey to chase her dreams from the Deep South to Hollywood, enduring a number of difficulties and overcoming the hardships of single motherhood to a wonderful ending and to the lovely woman known to us today. She teaches us to reach for our dreams, and though life sometimes seems senseless, in the long run good things do come. I highly recommend this book to anyone that loves biographies or for just a delightful read. Check this out!” 

-C.C. Cole

Click here to read more reviews of Tharon Ann

An Illustrated Book of Poetry

5/5

Inspirational

“Lyrical and deeply moving. These poems speak of the soul’s journey back to its Source. Love, longing, loneliness, joy. These are things we all share throughout our journeys through this life and beyond.”

Ginny Byham

Click here to read more reviews of Living Under the Weaver’s Hut

A Spiritual Journey

India with Backpack and a Prayer
5/5

A deeply affecting travelog of a spiritual life


“I loved this book, the intimacy, the sense of the spiritual world close by, the interiority of the poetry, and most of all, the mystery of her four adept friends. Highly recommended.”

-Stanocles

Click here to read more reviews of India with Backpack and a Prayer

sunset

doubters only believe what they see … you know the type dark sunglasses at night for a better view. Oh Weaver, guard my arrested heart

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moon

I bow to you winter moon mosaicthat all starsin heavenly darkness lay their heads to restanother rising sunwraps her dreamy arms around our landfrom ho-hum

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walk with me this afternoonno particular plan just fresh mountain airwild roses gone wild; nest where mockingbirds had babieswhen breathless we stop and watch clouds

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sometimes I face the sunother times the amber glow of dawnseeding earth with prayer in the chill of early dayI wrap your essence around my

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I hear winter rain falling as wild mountain roses it’s you hiding behind the moon if you stay away my heart will turn into shards

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I got up early this morning when darkness still covered the land; just had a feeling the stars would still be shining. Not good to

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Jennifer Brookins, author page

5 days 14 hours ago

Good Morning everyone, I think I told you that I live in the country and feed all the critters in the neighborhood: a herd of deer, very naughty family of groundhogs, birds, skunks, stray cats and others that are hungry. Well today, when I opened the back door yours truly was greeted by Mrs. Groundhog who just ate the apples I intended to bake a pie for my honey (Doug). I know they hibernate in the winter (groundhogs not husband) and just maybe that's why they're little thieves in the summer. Could it be they're storing up for the cold winter months? Tell me please cuz inquiring minds want to know. On that note I'll say adieu. Jen

Jennifer Brookins, author page

2 weeks 12 hours ago

India has always held a fascination for me. It is a country of diverse cultures, religions, traditions, sacred rivers, ancient ruins, and echoes of a colonial past. From the Himalayas to the north, and Indian Ocean to the south, her union territories and 28 states differ. More than three hundred languages and dialects are spoken. The Punjab, a state in Northern India means the "land of five rivers." India has found her way into my heart. Finally. I'm going after so long a time. I dream of making chapattis with honey-skinned
women.
excerpt from "India with a Backpack and Prayer
www.Facebook.com.Jenniferbrookins.35

Jennifer Brookins, author page

2 weeks 12 hours ago

India has always held a fascination for me. It is a country of diverse cultures, religions, traditions, sacred rivers, ancient ruins, and echoes of a colonial past. From the Himalayas to the north, and Indian Ocean to the south, her union territories and 28 states differ. More than three hundred languages and dialects are spoken. The Punjab, a state in Northern India means the "land of five rivers." India has found her way into my heart. Finally. I'm going after so long a time. I dream of making chapattis with honey-skinned
women.
excerpt from "India with a Backpack and Prayer
www.Facebook.com.Jenniferbrookins.35

Jennifer Brookins, author page

3 weeks 17 hours ago

Is it any wonder they call this land of Saints in Punjab the Jewel of India? This evening, Baba Ji told us a story about the rainbird* to illustrate a point he was trying to make.
"It will not drink from other sources except the swati drop. When thirsty, it prays to God for rain. Rainbird quenches its thirst by drinking the rare swati drop. If a jackal drinks the same swati drop it becomes mad. The same drop falling into a banana’s young folded leaf is transformed into camphor. When it falls into a shell on the seashore, it becomes a pearl. The swati raindrop is one. If it falls into different hearts it has different effects. In the same way the teachings of Saints, like the swati drop, create deep impact on a few, little effect on others, and no effect at all on some. The Mystics teach us not to waste our lives by considering it to be so cheap. Man is like the deer who doesn't realize musk is in its naval and dies wandering. In like manner God is within us but man wanders his entire life deluded by doubt because he thinks he knows more than God. He achieves neither peace in this world nor God-Realization
excerpt from "India with a BackPack and Prayer

Jennifer Brookins, author page

3 weeks 5 days ago

I just had my long white hair washed and set at the beauty parlor when it started to rain. I shoved my hair under a scarf and moved on to the supermarket for a few groceries when suddenly a young (really obnoxious) teenage girl comes over to me and says,"Oh you are sooooo cute!" I think to myself, "who the hell are you little person?" She continues, "you are so adorable like a little Barbie with your white curls peeking out of your scarf. I think to myself, "Shut the hell up ... I'd rather have my hooters shot out of a cannon than be called that!" I pull myself together and move on to the produce counter but I can still hear her whiny little voice trailing in the distance, "I hope I'm as cute as you are when I'm almost 100 years old!" I think to myself "You little bitch, now I know what the devil looks like!" cjb

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