Tag Archives: Writing

#MirthMusicMon – Classical Doesn’t Mean Boring

25 Aug

I know, I know. I said that there would hopefully be another blog post last week.

But I have a good reason…

I blame my husband.


You see, about 3 weeks ago my husband started writing what he thought would be a 3-ish page story. He was wrong. At my last reading he has 105 pages. Now, because we need to make money ASAP (you know, with that whole baby on the way thing), and because this pregnancy seems to have robbed my brain of my usual creative flair, I have thrown myself into editing. Editing his novel in the making, my mother’s inspirational historical romance, and a short story my husband finished several months ago.

To be honest, my mom’s book is at the top of my priorities, seeing as how she asked first. After that is my husband’s short story (titled Wolf Town), then his novel (with the working title of When Justice Howls).

Also on the to do list is a website for his writing and steampunk creations, including an online store. I think this part of the plan scares me the most. Knowing how I prioritize my fear (you know, stupidly) it will probably turn out to be the easiest part.

But enough of my excuses.

On to Mirth and Music Monday!

To begin with we have a classical quartet of lovely ladies… having some sort of one-up contest and ending with one of my favorite songs:

Then I found a silly little something that surprised me:

There you have it. The proof that just because it looks or sounds like classical music that doesn’t necessarily mean it will put you to sleep.

You’re welcome.  😀


If you would like to see who else is playing along with Mirth and Music Monday this week click HERE.

That’s also where you input your link if you should decide to join the ranks of Monday Merriment.


Have a great week!


P.S. I apologize for the videos just being links. I am getting used to WordPress’ new post creation format and must not have learned the ‘trick’ yet.



Was I Writing a Trilogy All Along?

26 Mar

These last few weeks I have been doing a lot of thinking and talking about my book I Killed Them, Mama. (And, unfortunately, no writing.)

While discussing the plot with Jay (the gentleman I read to every week) it suddenly hit me that the problem may be that I’m trying to fit too much into one book. Now I’m starting to contemplate the idea of turning it into at least two, if not three, books.

It’s crazy! This was just going to be something I cranked out. A book to have on the market ASAP and now it may turn into a trilogy. Grrr!

Hopefully, after taking a day or two to see if the plot points would go that far, and have workable break-points, I may actually start working with the plan of two or three books.

Ack! Why does writing have to be so complicated?

I just hope that clearing this up will help me move forward with the dratted thing. I want you guys to read it! I want to have you tell me what you think, what you would do in Amelia’s place, and how you would poison an abusive husband in a no-way-out situation.


*            *            *

And just because this video has been spinning around in my head since Sunday night:




A Hodge-Podge About Life and Writing

21 Mar

Sooo, after spending the majority of the day dealing with a migraine I  finally get around to trying to write a blog post. However, my computer and my internet connection had something of a battle, and now I’m too ticked off at the world in general to write a flash fiction.

Therefore, I am going to talk about something completely different.

I’m just not sure what.

I could talk about how well my current diet erm… eating lifestyle change is going. (The household is following the diet laid out in The 4-Hour Body)

The fact that I’m a little over two belt holes thinner.

Or talk about how my book sales have not been what I had hoped.

Then there’s this fantastic fantasy series I’m reading. (Elisabeth Wheatley sure knows how to weave a plot.)

Perhaps I could touch on the idea of sharing the first few pages of my husband’s portion of a steam punk graphic novel he’s working on (Words only so far. We need an artist.).

Then there’s the undead flash fictions he has been spitting out. (he’s writing circles around me, people!)

Of course there’s the business we’re still hoping to put together in a town very close to where we live. It’s still very hush-hush, but I’m excited! (We thought we almost had it last winter, then federal regulations changed and our supplier had to revamp their product. The scale of our future enterprises has enlarged… hopefully in a good way.  :/  )

I keep thinking I need to whip together some of my steam punk flash fictions and put another book out there. But for some reason my heart isn’t in it at the moment. I’m not sure why. Very confused. I’m also stalled on my other writing projects. Perhaps it’s the approaching spring. Maybe it’s worry over five hundred big and little things. Very likely it’s nothing and I just have to push myself through it. Like most of my projects, I’m pretty sure that the moment I really start to work on it it’s all I’ll be able to think about for a month or two. Kinda like those Carls Jr. commercials, except I may as well wear a big shirt that says “Don’t bother me. I’m writing.”

With it being a lot nicer outside, I won’t feel guilty at the idea of pitching the dogs out the back door and into their pen for an hour or two while I concentrate on a project. You see, I write best alone. However, the dogs hate it when there’s only one person in the house. Especially if they hear my husband getting chores done outside. They don’t leave me alone. It’s like they are trying to make me go outside and bring him back to them. That means that my writing time goes something like this:

Let’s see… she’s just decided what poison to use on… What? Why are you bumping my elbow? Yes. I know he went out that door. No, I’m not going to go get him.

Please stop whining. It’s the most annoying sound on the planet.

Thank you.

Now where was I? Ah, yes… she’s crafting the gelatin dessert, should it be orange or raspberry?  WHAT?! No! I won’t go get him! Please go lay down!

No, the sad eye thing won’t get you anywhere. Knock it off.

I didn’t mean literally!  How did you even manage to tip that over? It was way over there!

No, I did not stand up to let you go outside to find him. Stop barking.


*        *        *

Yeah, so needless to say, this has been a creatively barren winter.


If only they stayed this cute and small:




Your Kiss – A Poem

8 Mar

You lean

I smile

You tease

I giggle

You touch

I sigh

You hold

I melt

You ask

I give

You offer

I need


*        *        *


Love, it’s a glorious thing.

Not merely lust.

Not just infatuation.

I crave him.

All of him.

His thoughts.

His smile.

His sense of humor.

And of course his touch.


*        *        *





My Insanity Keeps Me Sane – A Flash Fiction

7 Mar

I don’t know how much longer I can hold on.

Day in and day out, it’s all the same. Except it’s not.

Everything is different while it stays the same.

I don’t know how to describe it.

Details change from day to day. Lunch is tuna instead of peanut butter. The cat threw up today instead of the dog having diarrhea yesterday.

The same dishes are dirty. The same socks didn’t quite make it into the hamper. The dryer still doesn’t shut off by itself.

I need a vacation. Of course we can’t afford one. Never could. Probably never will.


I have these ideas, these stories, in my head. These thoughts that aren’t completely mine.

Hear me out before you call the funny farm.

I have people living entire lives inside my mind. It’s not like they control anything about my life. But in some ways, it’s like they keep me… sane.

Because I have these other lives, stories, playing out in my imagination I can get through the monotony of my existence. While I’m folding laundry, I’m deciding whether they live in the city or the country, what state, what kind of house. When it’s time to scrub the tile grout, I’m weighing how much chocolate cheesecake the leading lady should consume before coming to the conclusion that her father-in-law has to die. In my imagination I turn my every day life into a wonderful cacophony of tears and drama, fear and loathing, triumph and success. The leading lady always wins.

And who knows. Maybe one day I’ll write all this crazy down and make a million dollars.


Yeah, right. Like anyone would want to read it.


*           *            *

I love writing those.

Here’s a fun video I found that vaguely corresponds to the theme of my story.  😉

*            *            *


Have you noticed yet? Did ya, did ya?

I have a new page on this website. Made it yesterday afternoon.

Up there, on the far right…

Maybe I’ll make it easy on you and just stick a link right here.

But before you click it, I want to tell you about it!

It’s all about my new, first, and only finished (at this point) book!

My Ignored Hamper and other Bathroom Poetry


I’m not going to beg you to buy it.

Much.  (lol)

Go ahead. You know you’re curious what the new page looks like. Take a peek.


Just remember to come back tomorrow for more poetry.


Have a Great Weekend!




Who Doesn’t Like Cookie Dough?

1 Mar

“Are you telling me that you have never made cookies from scratch?”


“Wow. Does that also mean that you’ve never had cookie dough?”

“Does cookie dough ice cream count?”

“Uh, no. Not hardly.”

“Then that would also be a no.”

“Well, that just can not stand. It’s just not American. We’ll make up a batch of chocolate chip cookie dough and fix this atrocity.”

“I hear you’re not supposed to ’cause of the eggs and stuff.”

“Yeah. That’s why you leave out the eggs and leavening when you’re just going to attack it with a spoon. I’ve done it a hundred times. Uh, with female friends and relatives. Because I would be a total pig if I’d eaten an entire batch my myself. *ahem* C’mon, I’ll show you.”

“If you’re sure.”

“This is really good.”

“You know I’m always right.”

“What about that time you said the cat wouldn’t…”

“Shut up.”

“Always means always.”

“You’re such a dweeb. Eat your cookie dough and be happy I shared my chocolate chip stash with you.”

“Yes, Ma’am.”

“Don’t call me ma’am. I’m not that old.”

“If you say so.”

“I do.”





The Muse Has Struck – A Poem

22 Feb

I’m out of luck

The muse has struck

My brain’s alight

No sleep tonight

+ + +

The sirens sing

Words they bring

My darting pen

Writing again

+ + +

Mid-night oil

My thoughts boil

Creative flight

Into the night

+ + +

Morning birds sing

Alarm clocks ring

I fall in bed

An empty head


*            *            *


Wow. I couldn’t have asked for a more appropriate song. And the first one I listened to after starting the search. Incredible. As soon as this thing is scheduled I’m going back to listen to more of her songs.  🙂  


May your muse be with you!




Carpooling to Girls Night – A Flash Fiction

21 Feb

See my boys out there? Aden is five and Alex is three. Alex just finished a growth spurt, that’s why he’s almost as tall as his brother.

Huh? Yeah, they’re coated in mud. Don’t worry, that’s why we turned the mud room into a bathroom. I can bring them inside through the other back door and just pop them in the tub.

Ha ha, no, they hate baths. You’ll get to hear the screams of protest. Kelly from next door says that if the wind is right she can hear them howling. Thankfully her kids have been out of the house for a few years, so she’s back to thinking it’s cute. Then just as you think they’re going to tear the room apart in an effort to get out, they get distracted by the toys and bubbles. After that happens it’s a ten minute battle to get them back out of the bath tub.

Nope, it’s our nightly ritual, even when Evan is home to do it. Just as well, though. After a full day playing and learning, a life and death struggle in the bathroom is just what they need to finish off their energy. When that’s done it’s their bedtime snack, a story and in to bed they go. He says in some ways he’s glad he’s a fireman, that way he has just enough time away on the two on, one off schedule to start missing the chaos before coming home again.

After that we’re golden. The sitter should arrive just as they get out of the tub, and then we can get out of here and head off to girls night. Ain’t carpooling fun?

Her name’s Krystal. The kids love her. If they are true to their usual routine they’ll actually want her to read the bedtime story. She’s great.

I’ll only give you her number on one condition: I’m the one who gets her on girls night.


*            *            *





Alone and not Guilty

15 Feb

I know, I know. This is supposed to be a poem.

And yesterday I was supposed to put out a flash fiction.

And I didn’t do either.

I would say I’m sorry, but it would be a lie.

This week has been screwy.

So instead I am going to show you something that caught my attention, made me think, rippled through my inner dialogue, and inspired a very interesting conversation with my husband.

It’s a TED talk about the importance of introverts.

Yes, it is 19 minutes long. I realize that most people who cruise the blogosphere don’t want to take that kind of time, but I’m going to put this up here anyway.



Now let’s talk about that inner dialogue ripple. For a long time now I have felt as though getting out and seeing people was a mandatory part of… something. I would feel guilty after a few days of being holed up working on a project, because I was perhaps making someone out there unhappy because I wasn’t on their doorstep.

This talk reminded me that I need my solitude. I need my quiet.

It also reminded me that where my computer is in the house really is not conducive for my creative flow. So… not only is being alone good for me and my writing, but also, I really need to find another place for my computer. It’s literally in the middle of the house. Not good for hunkering down and cranking out a chapter a day. For one thing, the dogs can find me way too easily (they seriously want to go outside 12 times a day, for about 5 minutes. It’s a game, I think.). For another, any and all conversation, movement, coming and going around the house is done within 10 feet of my chair.  Heh.  Let’s just say I’ve been very distracted these past several months.

What I learned:

1. Choosing to be alone is not actually a bad thing.

2. I really need to move my computer. (Not sure where to, buuut somewhere.)


*            *            *

Here’s a little something for those of you who don’t have much time:


*            *            *

Are you an introvert?

Do you feel pressured into acting like an extrovert at times?

Do you, like me, have certain masks you put on in order to deal with the bossy, pushy world out there?

Could you at least tell me I’m not alone in this? Please?





Husband Shopping — A Flash Fiction

7 Feb

“Ooh, he’s good looking. How ’bout him?”

“Looks aren’t everything, you know.”

“Since when?”

“Since that last guy you suggested turned into a snore fest of workout tips and poses.”

“David is hot!”

“David is boring. When I asked him what kinds of books he liked he told me anything to do with body building. He didn’t even know the last time he had read a book with a ‘story’ in it.”

“So… you don’t want a hot guy?”

“Uugh. I want someone who looks good, has a life, and who can carry on an actual conversation. I have no intention of looking for a husband by comparing biceps and sports cars. The man I want has some education, a good job, treats his mother right, has a favorite author…”

“Oh! You want a nerd! … What? No?”

“You’re no help.”



This one made me giggle.  🙂