Category Archives: Writing

Finding the Balance

This week we’re talking about how we keep the balance between writing and life stuff.  Let’s be perfectly honest, I don’t really have a good balance.  LOL. I used to write every single day, and now I write when I have a case notes to write, or when a blog post is due.  😜 Buuuut… since I’ve been trying really hard to get back to a regular writing schedule I’ve got a few tricks up my sleeve that I’m going to give a try.

First, I have a new Precious…

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I really wanted to buy a Mac but since I don’t have a credit card in order to do so I would’ve had to shell out a whole lotta money in one shot.  Then on Thanksgiving Verizon was having a sale on iPads and I thought, “Ooh!”  I already have an iPad Mini but it’s at the point where it doesn’t get updates anymore and it almost never has space on it.  So if I bought an iPad through Verizon I could get my precious without having to pay full price in one fell swoop as long as I also pay for a two year data plan.  I don’t exactly need the data plan, but whatever… I have a new precious that’s bigger than my old one, has a ton of space, and works with my Bluetooth keyboard.  Whoot Whoot!

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Plus, I don’t have to share it with my mom because she can have the Mini. Wee!  Part of the reason that I’ve slacked off with blogging (aside from work and dealing with health issues etc.) was that our laptop screen broke, and my mom started using my iPad on a daily basis, so if I didn’t bring home my laptop from work it meant I would have to blog from my phone which frankly wasn’t going to happen.

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Also, in my quest to get organized, I spent an unusual amount of time making cute little notes to put into my Happy Planner so that I always know what the blog topics are.  I look at my planner most days and last year’s idea of breaking the blog posts into 3 month groups and printing them to put in my planner didn’t exactly work.  But perhaps if the blog topics are spread out and in my face each week I’ll be less likely to ignore them. 😋

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There’s also the fact that I have a deadline hanging over my head that’s doing a pretty good job at kicking me in the butt.  Like, a real, grown up, writer deadline.  It’s kind of frightening, actually, LOL but exciting too.  I can’t say anything about it just yet, but yay, writing!

And that, my friends, is all I have for ya.  To be honest, I’m currently binge watching season one of the Gilmore Girls and this blog post is distracting me from the teenage version of Jared Packadeli.  Hehe…

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Let’s go see what the other girls say about how they balance writing and life. 🙂

Bronwyn | Jessica


Why I Write…

 

 

Considering the fact that I haven’t written regularly in ages, I find it hard to sit down and write about why I write.  LOL  I could tell you all of the reasons I’m not writing, but that wouldn’t be so entertaining, eh? :p

I think that for the most part those of us who write all do it for a lot of the same reasons.  It’s fun (usually).  It’s an escape from reality.  It’s a world that we can control (until our characters go all crazy and change the plot on us).  We get to write things the way we wish they were in our lives.  We get to make the rules.  We can craft characters after real people and make them suffer from karma in our stories.   If I’m writing, I’m in control.  I get to decide who falls in love and whose heart gets broken.  I can write about brothers and sisters who get along instead of those who ignore each other.  If I want to write hot kinky morning sex that doesn’t involve morning breath and other real life problems I totally can and it’s okay.  Or if I want my heroine to talk about the sadness of chub rub in her favorite pair of jeans, I can do that too. Then of course there’s the idea that each of us hopes to write the next great American novel, or at least something that sells like Twilight but has much better writing. :p

I also write because I want to touch people.  No, not in a creepy way… LOL  I love when something I write moves someone and makes an impression in their world.  Some of my good friends are people I met simply because they were fans of my fanfic and took the time to reach out and give me feedback.  Sure, sometimes we have to deal with those somewhat annoying stalker-ish fans who don’t seem to have many boundaries… but thankfully those are far and few between.

I think we write for a lot of the same reasons we read. To lose ourselves in something else for a while.  To fall in love with our characters and give us something fun to think about during our real lives.  It’s escapism at it’s best. I love writing and I love the amazing people and experiences that writing has brought into my life.

So… how many days until our writer’s retreat, Bron? 🙂

~~~~~
Bronwyn | Kris | Jessica |Paige | Gwen

 


“Try”

When it came time to choose the songs for this year’s song fic prompts I was excited to have the chance to pick a few.  Of course my first choice was to pick a Backstreet Boys song.  The song is called Try and if you’ve never heard it and want to hear it, you can click here.

It’s one of my favorite songs but when I chose it I didn’t think about how sad it can be even though it’s hopeful too.  This is for Sydney and Olivia who I did not know but wish I or someone had been able to help.

~~~~~

Sophie and I had worked together for six months, side by side slinging expensive coffee to the masses.  We’d bonded over our strange tastes in music and movies, and laughed at the absurd names the hipsters named their kids.  I’d slowly fallen in love with her but had been too afraid to tell her.  I told myself that being her friend and coworker was enough.  As long as she was in my life in some way, I’d be happy.

I could tell she was hurting, and I saw all of the warning signs.  She’d withdrawn from her friends and activities she loved, made a massive change in her wardrobe, began getting failing grades, and had wicked mood swings.  The red flags had all been there, and had all been ignored.  Her family thought, “Oh she’s just going through a phase…”  Her friends who’d been pushed aside said she’d turned into an “emo bitch.”  When her teachers and school counselors brought up concern they’d been told by her mother, “I know my daughter, I’d know if she was hurting herself or if she was depressed.”

I couldn’t ignore her though.  Even when she tried being mean to me in an attempt to push me away, I shrugged it off knowing that she was just in pain.  It was a pain I’d known all too well myself.  I didn’t know how to tell her though.  It wasn’t like one day as we mopped the floor I could just say, “Hey… you seem depressed and well, I have experience with that so… wanna talk?”  If I’d done that, she would have slammed her walls down around herself and I probably would’ve never seen her again.

So instead I just did my best to let her know that I was there.  I gave her access to every social media account I had. If she sent out a tweet, I read it.  If she Instagramed something, I liked it.  I hoped that if she knew I was out there paying attention to her that it would help somehow.  I remembered the days when I felt like no one saw me and the dark, scary path it had led me down.

One Saturday morning when we were supposed to open the store together she didn’t show up.  The voicemail in the office that we were supposed to call if we had to miss work was empty. I checked her Twitter, Instagram, Facebook, and checked to see if I’d somehow missed a text but there was nothing.  Her last post on Instagram had been four hours earlier and was an artsy shot of her left hand, palm up.  There hadn’t been any sort of text along with the shot, but it made my blood run cold.  She was right handed and if she’d planned to hurt herself, the left wrist would be first.

I called her phone and prayed that she would pick up.  I ran through my head as the phone rang what my next step would be if she didn’t pick up.  I didn’t know her exact address but I knew where she lived.  If I had to I was prepared to risk my job and lock up the store to go check on her.  Just as I was reaching for my keys her voice was in my ear and it wasn’t her voicemail kicking in.  She was saying my name, “Alex?”

“Hey, Soph…” I said, with a relieved sigh.  My heart was still in my throat but if she was talking to me that was a good thing.  Or at least that’s what I told myself.  “Uh… Yeah… I was just wondering if you…” I rolled my eyes at myself and smacked my hand to my forehead.  “Well, I figured you weren’t coming in today but I was wondering if I could see you later.”

Total silence on her end of the line and then quietly, “Why?”

I had no idea what to tell her.  I ran my fingers over the scar on my wrist, a nervous habit, and tried to think of something clever.  The scar itself gave me an idea, “You’re artistic and I need someone with an artsy eye.”

“Al, what are you talking about?” she asked in a confused and somewhat annoyed voice.

“I decided to go ahead and get a tattoo. You told me that if I got one you’d go with me.”  Suddenly my mind was firing on all cylinders and I didn’t sound like such a dweeb.  “Remember?”

She chuckled and sniffed like maybe she’d been crying, “Yeah I remember.”

“So will you go with me?”

“Even though I was about to ditch you on a Saturday morning shift?”

“I can handle it…” I told her gently.  “I’m not sure how well I’ll handle the tattoo needle though.”

More silence followed by another sniff before she cleared her throat, “I’ll be there in half an hour.”

“Promise?” I asked before I could tell myself that it sounded too desperate.

“Yeah… I promise.”

She made good on the promise and made it to work, which means I had to follow through with getting a tattoo even though I hadn’t really planned on it at all.  She was quiet in my car on the way to the tattoo shop and I did my best to fill the silence with light banter.  She’d been quiet all through our shift too, but as long as she was there with me, I knew she was safe.

I was pretty sure that I was going to either piss my pants or puke when it was time to get my ink.  She found that to be hilarious and she smiled for the first time all day as she teased me.  When the artist asked me what design I wanted, I pulled up a picture on my phone.  It was one that Sophie herself had posted months ago on her Instagram and I’d saved because I’d liked it so much, “Like this…”

I heard Sophie gasp as she realized the picture belonged to her.  It was a semi-colon  on a coffee cup that she’d doodled on the edge of a history test.  I pushed the sleeves of my tee shirt up and bared my wrists to her.  In the six months we’d known each other my wrists were always covered.  Mostly because it had been fall and winter in Michigan, but also because even when it was 80 degrees out I had a tendency to cover my wrists.

“It was a year and a half ago…” I told her as she reached out and ran her fingers over the scars.  “I was very lucky.  I shouldn’t have survived it, but my mom came home early.”  I watched as a single tear slid down each of her cheeks.  “You okay with me taking your design?”  She nodded and kept looking down at my wrists.  I then turned the tables and pushed her sleeves up her arms.  She had scars too but none as severe as my own and they were fairly new.  “Will you get one with me?”

She let out a soft sob and let her head drop as she gave in to her tears.  I pulled her into a hug and let her cry.  The tattoo artist smiled at me and motioned silently that she was going to leave us alone for a bit but she’d be back.

“Soph… I don’t know what’s been going on with you, but I know from experience that it can get so much better.  Please let me help.”

“How did you know?” she finally asked when she pulled back from the hug to wipe her eyes.

I shrugged, “I’ve been there.  Sometimes it takes someone who’s been in your shoes to see what’s really going on.” I nudged the toes of her converse sneakers with my own.

“My own mom doesn’t even believe me when I say I need help.”

“I know…” I told her and held her hands in mine.  “And I hate it.  But I believe you. That design you drew, that tells me that you don’t want to go anywhere.  You wouldn’t have drawn it otherwise.  So this is your pause… you get to decide whether your story ends or goes on.  But for the record, I really, really want it to go on.”

She squeezed my hands and nodded her head, “So do I.”

“Okay, so let’s do this.  We get the ink, and then we do this together.”

She finally lifted her eyes to meet my own and as they filled once more with tear she said, “Promise?”

I smiled from ear to ear as relief washed over me.  “Absolutely.”

Try, baby, try
Give me a moment of your time
Oh no, don’t, don’t close your eyes
I know you’re hurting now
We can work it out
If we just try.

Project-Semicolon

PROJECT SEMICOLON IS A GLOBAL NON-PROFIT MOVEMENT DEDICATED TO PRESENTING HOPE AND LOVE FOR THOSE WHO ARE STRUGGLING WITH MENTAL ILLNESS, SUICIDE, ADDICTION AND SELF-INJURY. PROJECT SEMICOLON EXISTS TO ENCOURAGE, LOVE AND INSPIRE.

National Hopeline Network  ::  1.800.SUICIDE (784-2433)

National Suicide Prevention Lifeline  ::  1.800.273.TALK (273-8255)

The Trevor Project (LGBTQ)  ::  1.866.4.U.TREVOR (488-7386)

~~~~~

Let’s see what the other girls have cooked up, shall we?
Kris | Bronwyn | Jessica


Promptly Penned: Rejected Calls

Promptly Penned

“I had all good intentions of writing something brilliant for this week’s prompt,” he told her honestly then left the statement hanging in the air.

“And?”

“And… This is where you make up some stupid excuse to leave early and stop returning my calls.” He leaned back in his chair with a sigh.

She rolled her eyes, “Whatever, man… The only reason I’d disown you is for pulling the bullshit Woe Is Me – I’m Not Worthy card. I’m not your agent… Write or don’t write, that’s on you. Just don’t be a douchecanoe about it if you miss a deadline.  Cause you know that crap doesn’t work with me, got it?”

He smiled down at the still blank screen on his computer. His mind began to fill with words which would soon overflow and spill down his arms and out of his fingertips. She did that for him every time.  He shot her a quick glance, “Have I mentioned that you’re the best muse in the world?”

She nodded and placed a kiss on his temple before walking toward the door to leave him to his task, “Yeah, yeah. Don’t thank me, just write me something naughty.”

~~~~~

That’s all for this time! 🙂  Let’s see what the other girls have cooked up.

Kris | Bronwyn | Jessica | Jess | Paige

 


Writing Pet Peeves

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Good morning from Northern Michigan!  I’m currently in Gaylord, MI on day two of a three day training session for work.  Actually, when this publishes I’ll be on day three… yay! It’s been a nice training, somewhat frustrating at times, but I miss my babies and my kitties and my bed!

Anywho… this week we’re talking about writing pet peeves. Considering that as I work on this I’m supposed to be doing homework for my training and it’s already 9:20 PM… I’m going to take the lazy way out and repost an oldie that pretty much sums up my writing pet peeves. 🙂

The Rules
May 25, 2012

Apparently when it comes to writing and getting published there’s this idea among writers that there’s a golden set of rules that one must follow.  Not ideas, or suggestions, but The Rules.  Some of which, to be totally honest, are beginning to bum me out.

I write because I love it.  I write because it’s fun and it’s a way for an otherwise really, really, really shy girl to share her words with the world.  Sure, I understand that in order to get published there are certain things I’ll have to do and ways that I’ll need to tweak.  I’ve been a fanfic writer for the past thirteen years so I’m well aware that transitioning to the published world is going to mean changing up my style a bit.

Writing fanfic is like writing for a soap opera that goes on and on, while writing for publishing is like condensing that soap opera into a movie.  Those slice of life chapters that really just serve as filler but aren’t really needed for the plot will have to be cut.  That, I can handle.

But when I talk about The Rules, I mean those things that every writer who blogs seems to talk about when giving advice about writing.  Those things that while although true for some simply aren’t true for all and yet somehow continue to be The Rules.

A blog post I read recently basically said that only the well known big name famous writers are “allowed” to write in first person.  Everyone else has to write in third person if they have any true desire to be published.  I call bullshit on that.  I truly don’t understand why some people hate first person so much.  I’ve heard people call it the “easy” and “lazy” way of writing (ridiculously untrue, IMHO).  People say that unless you’re writing for Young Adults you can’t possibly sell a first person book.  I read a lot of books, and I can tell you that not every first person book I read is YA or was written by one of the big names.  I personally enjoy reading and writing in first person.

It’s not that I’m opposed to third person; I just don’t have as much experience with it.  I’m still working on it, and have plans to keep building my skills.  But to say that the way that I happen to write is lazy, easy or flat out forbidden because it’s not the way that you write, isn’t cool.  Not at all. Not everyone likes to read the same things, so why the heck should writers all aim to write the same way just so it’s easier to get published?

I don’t like when a book starts out too fast; other people insist that there be absolutely no backstory in the beginning of your book at all.  I don’t enjoy overly wordy descriptions of settings; some people love to read about the tranquil way that the waves pounded on the sandy shore causing the heroine to fall into a hypnotic dream-like state as she watched the froth of the waves form miniature bubble baths for the crabs digging their way out of their sandy homes. 😉  We all like what we like!

To tell me that I’m not “allowed” to write how I want to because I’m not a big name basically isn’t going to work for me.  I’m the one writing the book.  I’m not saying that I’m closed to learning or growing.  I’m definitely not going to be like Susan Minot who likes to write in run on sentences,  leave out punctuation, and have extremely unclear narrators.  (I seriously couldn’t get through one chapter of her book Evening because of her writing style and yet she’s supposedly one of the great writers of our time.) But I just want to write what I love and if I get bogged down by too many rules that will suck all of the fun out of it for me.  I find it hard to think that everyone who has been published, whether by a big name publisher or something smaller, has followed The Rules to a T.  In fact, I know they haven’t!

Go walking through a book store and you’ll see all sorts of different books.  Sure, you’re going to find a slew of them that follow The Rules and many of them will feel like the same book with different characters and settings.  But you’re also going to find books that broke the mold in that bookstore.  You’ll find those writers who said, “Screw The Rules! I don’t want to write like that, I want to write like me.”

Did you know that Kathyn Stockett who wrote the book The Help had her manuscript rejected sixty times before it was published?  SIXTY TIMES!  But you know what?  She believed in her story and kept trying until it became a huge best seller and then an amazing movie that won Oscars.  By the way, it’s in first person and it was the first book she ever got published.  🙂

So what’s my point?  Write what you love and how you love to write it!  If no one wants to publish it because you didn’t follow The Rules, you can always self publish now, right?

Happy Writing!

Bronwyn | Kris | Leigh | Jess | Paige | Jessica | Gwen


Promptly Penned: Choices

One of the new features of the Wednesday posts this year will be what we’re calling “Promptly Penned.”  Basically, we get a prompt of some sort and then have to write something inspired by it. 🙂  Here’s our first prompt of the year:

Some choices are easy, like fudge ripple or
butter pecan, some choices aren’t. Can you guess which one this was?

Promptly Penned

 “Oh my god, can you please just make a decision?!” my brother said with a groan and dramatically dropped his head to the table. “It’s not that hard…” he then added in a muffled voice against the Formica surface.

I looked down at the choices before me and sighed.  “Yes it is.  It’s really hard and the more you bug me about it the longer it’s going to take. Why don’t you help me, loser?”

“I tried to help you, dweeb!” He lifted his head to look at me and rested his cheek on his hand as if it was seriously stressing him out to hold up his own head.  “You swatted down everything I said.”

I nodded without looking at him, “Because they were all stupid suggestions.”

He laughed, “I thought they were good.”

I tried not to smile but failed, “Going up to the old guy in the brown hoodie over there, calling him Obi Wan, and telling him that he’s my only hope won’t exactly help me decide. Nor would offering the girl behind the counter a lap dance.”

“No, but it would be funny.”

I ran my fingers through my hair in frustration, “Not helping…”

“Dude,” he said and took the photos to look at them.  “You like all of them, right?”

“Yeah.”

“So no matter what, you’ll be happy.”

“But what if I decide later that I didn’t really like the one I chose?”

“Listen.  We’ve been sitting here for over an hour.  You’ve got to choose.  The dude is starting to look at us like we’re crazy.”

I smiled and stage-whispered, “We are crazy.”

“If you don’t pick out something in the next three minutes I’m calling Mom and I’m telling her what you’re about to do.”

I watched as he took out his cell phone and set its timer for three minutes.  The added stress of a time limit didn’t help me at all.  In fact, it seemed to suck away what little decision making abilities I had.  I fake glared at my brother, “You wouldn’t tell Mom.  Because if you did, you’d risk turning her wrath on yourself.”

He shrugged and motioned to the timer that was now reading 2:10.  “Two-oh-nine, two-oh-eight, two-oh-seven… time’s ticking away, Dweeber.”

“You’re such a pain in my ass…” I sighed and took the photos back.  I’d looked at them so many times I’d lost count.  He was right, I really did like all of the choices laying on the table in front of me.  That was part of my problem, of course.  I’d looked at them all so much that I was starting to see flaws in everything that I’d originally loved about each of them.  Kind of like when you write a word over and over it starts to look like it’s spelled wrong even though you know it’s right.

“One-thirty…”

“How did you decide when you did it?”

“I opened up a book, pointed and said, ‘That’s what I want.'”

“You liar…”

He chuckled and nodded, “True, but I knew what I wanted before I got here and I only showed up with one option so I wouldn’t sit here like this fretting over what to pick.”  He glanced at his phone, “One minute…”

I was starting to feel nauseated. Contrary to my brother’s belief, this was a big deal and a big decision.  I ruled one photo out and put it in my bag with all of the other discarded choices.  The two left had ironically been my first two choices.  I took this as meaning that I was destined to choose one of them for sure.  Or something like that.

“Forty-five, forty-four…”

I shot him a look and resumed my choice making.  I considered doing eenie-meenie-miney-mo but I knew that with only two choices that it wouldn’t work.  Every little girl knew that when you were down to two, all you had to do to catch the tiger by the toe was to start the rhyme on the choice you didn’t want.  I tapped my fingers on the bottoms of the pictures.  It wasn’t like I was choosing which flavor of ice cream to get or something simple.  This was way bigger than that.

“Twenty, nineteen, eighteen, seventeen…”  I grabbed his phone and turned the timer off then stuck the phone into my bra where I knew he wouldn’t chase it.  Sister cooties and all that.  Just before he was able to get a whine out I pushed a picture across the table to him then put the other one in my bag.  “This is it?” he asked with a smile.

I nodded, “Go give it to him right now before I change my mind, or throw up.”

He stood up with the picture and paused, “Please don’t puke.  Seriously.  If you puke they’ll never let me come back.”

“If you don’t go right now I’ll make myself puke on purpose like I did when we were seven and I didn’t want to be at Misty Robinson’s birthday party but mom made us go.”

“I’m going!” he practically yelled and then literally jogged across the room with my fate in his hand.

I chuckled at his retreat and tried doing some deep breathing to fight off the nerves.  My knees were bouncing up and down under the table like I had to seriously pee, but I knew it was all nerves.  He may have been my twin, but we were so incredibly different at times it was funny.  I over-analyzed absolutely everything while he could make a decision, big or small, in a heartbeat and be totally okay with it.  To be honest, I loved that about him, even envied it at times.  He may have whined and set timers and given me ultimatums to get me to make a choice, but I knew it was all out of love.  There was no way he’d let me make a bad decision.

He returned to our table with a huge grin, “He’s getting ready. You should probably pee.”

“I don’t have to pee.”

“Then stop with the pee pee dance or you’re going to make me have to go.”

I couldn’t help but giggle and then tried really hard to stop my legs from trembling.  “Tell me I made the right decision.”

“You did.”

I looked him in the eyes, “Swear you’re not lying just to shut me up.”

He reached across the table and grabbed my hand, “I promise.”

Despite being a twin, he wasn’t a touchy feely kind of guy.  He blamed our eight and a half months in the womb together as his reason for not liking to cuddle.  To him, that was all of the snuggling he needed.  The fact that he was holding my hand on his own was enough to let me know that he was being one hundred percent honest.  I squeezed his hand and smiled, “Okay…”

“I’m gunna need you to take my phone out of your boobs so I can take pictures.”

I giggled and gave him his phone back.  “If I cry and you post it to Instagram you will regret it.”

“Oh come on… you know me better than that.  I wouldn’t post that to Instagram.”  The guy called my name and motioned for us to make our way over.  I stood up wrapped my arm around my brother’s waist.  He gave me a one armed hug and smiled, “You’ve got this…”

I nodded, totally not sure of myself, “Yeah.”

“Afterward we can go get ice cream, and I’ll make all of the decisions for you.”

I giggled, “Deal.”

____

That’s all you get! 🙂  The State of Union address has started so I’ve gotta run. 🙂

Don’t forget to check out what the rest of the girls came up with for the prompt!

Bronwyn | Kris | Jessica | Jess | Paige | Leigh


Wednesday Words – What’s in a name?

Hidey ho, Ranger Joe! 🙂

This week we’re supposed to be writing about how we choose our character’s names and what some of our favorites are.  To be honest though, I’m really pretty lame with names.  I name my characters names that I like. If I don’t like a name or know someone who drives me nuts with that name, I don’t use it. Sometimes if I know I want a name to have a particular meaning I’ll do a reverse search, but most of the time it’s like, “Ooh I love the name Nick…” 

When I was naming Miklos in my Jensen fic I knew for some reason that I wanted him to be Greek, so I searched for Greek names and then looked at their meanings. It turns out that Miklos is actually Hungarian so it shouldn’t have shown up in my Greek search… But here’s a funny one, Miklos is a Hungarian version of the Greek name for name Nicholas. LOL so I inadvertently named him Nick anyway. 

As for favorite character names? Other than Nick? Hehe… Yeah I don’t know. I had a character named Cate, I enjoyed that one because it wasn’t Kate and I have a non-traditional spelling to my name too.  I use names from TV, movies, music, books, restaraunt waitstaff… Basically if I like it, I use it. The hospital in my Jensen fic is named Riley Children’s hospital because of a friend who has that last name, and because after giving Elle the last name Jensen I kept thinking of the character Riley Jensen.  Faith, in my story Double Exposure was named after Faith Hill because I was listening to her when I introduced the character and needed a name. LOL Bobby, the big cuddly black father figure in Shades of Grey was named after an adorable skinny white kid named Bobby who waited on me at Bob Evans the day I wrote the prologue. 🙂  Uncle Phil, in the same story… Totally a Fresh Prince reference.  LOL There really is no method to my madness. I sometimes read the credits of movies and look for cool names too. 

Could this post be more lame? LOL sorry. I agreed to do this week’s topic before realizing how dorky my answer would be. Bet hey, I blogged! LOL

Let’s see how the other girls name their characters, shall we?

Jessica | Bronwyn | Jess


Flash Fiction – “New”

Previous chapters  1  2  3  4  5  6  7

Chapter 8 – New

My first vision about Josh that wasn’t about his death showed up about three weeks into our relationship.  The image I’d had in my head when Miklos spoke about his family’s cottage stopped showing up and my visions went back to usual business and only showed up in my sleep.  My mom and aunts had even looked through the family history to see if there was any way that Miklos’ grandma was one of us, but they hadn’t been able to find anything.

Josh and I hadn’t exactly said that we were dating but it was obvious to everyone, and ourselves, that we were.  He came to see me at the coffee shop all the time, and it always made my day.  Evenings were generally spent hanging out with Krypto at Josh’s place as long as he wasn’t working, but there were a few times that they’d come over to my tiny little apartment too.

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Flash Fiction – “Woman in White” (and a bonus chapter!)

Remember how last month I was going to post a new chapter each week so that by the time this prompt was due I would be up to date?  *nods* That never happened.  Mostly because work and life got in the way and I needed to add a chapter so that later chapters would make sense.  But I didn’t get any time to write for fun until Saturday.  So I changed up the plans a little. :p

I added this week’s photo to my new chapter and I’ll be giving you bonus chapters after that.  Then hopefully by next month we’ll be on the right track again. 🙂

So here’s the next chapter of the still untitled Jensen story. 🙂

If you missed the previous chapter, click here.

Previous Chapters can be found here: 1  2  3  4  5  6

Chapter 7 – Woman in White

10-2015 - WomaninWhite

After our second meeting, Josh and I were suddenly a thing.  We saw or spoke to each other every day and it was all kinds of exciting.  Each time the bell above the door at work chimed I looked up like an expectant puppy hoping that it was him that would be walking in the door.  I went from being someone who could go almost all day without checking her phone, to keeping it in the pocket of my work apron so that if it vibrated with a text from my adorable new guy friend that I could immediately check it.  He had a habit of sending me photos of every heart-shaped thing he came across in the day and would write his interpretation of what the heart meant.  Usually his theories were incredibly goofy and nothing to do with what the universe had to tell us, but it was a fun addition to my days.

Another really great thing that showed up in my life after meeting Josh was his best friend Miklos.  Miklos was a beautiful, tall, pretty, man who looked like he was fresh out of a men’s fashion magazine.  He was one of those guys who you had to take a second and third glance at when you first saw him because he was just that good looking.  He and Josh met in med school and eventually became roommates and besties.  He too worked at the children’s hospital but was a surgeon.

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Flash Fiction – Bonfire

Thank you for your patience while my lonely jump drive was stuck in my car during the massive thunderstorm! 🙂  Here, finally is chapter 4 of my Jensen story.

If you haven’t read the other chapters, start here.

08-2015 - BeachFire

Chapter 4 – Bonfire

My eyes were on the dimples in Josh’s cheeks as he opened the gate for me.  I’d always been fascinated with dimples because no one in our family had them and I thought they were amazing.  I could remember poking my cheeks with the eraser end of pencils trying to make my own dimples as a kid.  In all of the years I’d dreamed of him, I’d never seen his dimples, because he hadn’t ever smiled genuinely.  Each time I saw him smile though, my heart beat a little faster and I began to wonder if falling for him wouldn’t be so bad.

I realized as he I walked into the yard that there was a tiny adorable French bulldog waking up from a nap next to the chair that Josh had been sitting in.  The dog spotted me and came over to sniff my feet and then stood on its hind legs to try and get to me.  “Well hello there, you adorable little thing!”  I squatted so that the puppy could reach me and I could get a closer look.

The puppy then began licking at my hands furiously and Josh chuckled, “Oh, dude… stop with the licking.  I’m so sorry, he’s still a baby and he wants to put his mouth on everything he can find.”

I giggled, “It’s fine.  Hi, sweetie… You’re such a pretty boy!  You can kiss me all you want.”

“You’re marked now. You belong to him.  He’s never going to let you go.”

I smiled at the puppy and blushed, “That’s okay…”  I glanced up at Josh, “Can I pick him up?”

“Absolutely…”

I scooped up the dog and held him to my chest as I stood up.  I rubbed his belly and he licked the air trying to get to my face.  I chuckled again and then looked at Josh with a smile, “Frenchies are my favorite dog ever.  I can’t have pets where I live though, so I just live vicariously through YouTube videos and Instagram pictures of other people’s dogs.”

“He’s a handful, but he’s fun.  He’s only four months old, so he’s kind of all over the place.”

“I bet…” I said a kept loving on the puppy.  I smiled when I saw the personalized tag hanging from his collar.  “Krypto, huh?”

Josh smiled, dimples fully visible, and shrugged, “Big Superman fan growing up.  I couldn’t resist.”

“I love it.”  I rubbed behind Krypto’s ears.  One was standing up and the other was still floppy.  His grey fur gave way to a snow white chest that was simply adorable and he had gorgeous blue eyes like his owner.

Josh led the way, inviting me to follow, and pointed to the seat near his.  “Have a seat.  I’ll grab you a plate.  I’ve got water, Coke, apple juice, Heineken, although with the pain killers you should avoid the alcohol.”

“Water is fine, thanks…”  I sat down with Krypto and kept petting his ridiculously adorable puppy belly.  I couldn’t believe I was about to have dinner with the man I’d been dreaming of for ten years.  It all felt so surreal.  I checked out the view from my seat and decided it was perfect.  If I lived there I wouldn’t even need to have to leave my property in order to sit by the river and watch the sun turn it golden.  “This is a great view…” I said as Josh returned with a plate, silverware, and two bottles of water.  The pizza box and his plate were already sitting on the small table between the two chairs.

“Isn’t it?  The inside is cool too, but this yard and the view sold me. Plus I can walk to work so that’s awesome.”

I smiled and nodded, “Yeah, I live over on Maple so I walk to the coffee shop a lot as long as the weather is okay.”

“Oh cool… yeah, I really love this area.  Did you grow up in Lansing?”

“Born and raised,” I said with a smile.  “You?”

“No, I’m from Minneapolis originally.  But I went to Michigan State and did my residency at Riley and fell in love with it there.  Once they offered me a job I found this place and I’ve been here ever since.  It’ll be three years next month.”

It hit me that for the past three years I’d been walking past his house, sometimes twice a day or more and had never seen him.  That just made things even weirder.  Why hadn’t I met him before?  I cleared my mind and looked back to the now sleeping puppy in my lap, “I love your dog.”

Josh chuckled and I looked at him in time to see his dimples in the light of the fire.  I imagined kissing his dimples and felt my face blush all over again.  I had to stop having thoughts like that about him, at least while it was still light enough outside for him to see my face change hues.  Josh reached over and ran his fingers over Krypto’s belly.  I watched his fingers and remembered how they’d felt when he’d been examining my burn.  I really needed to stop thinking about his body touching mine.  I grabbed some pizza and busied myself with stuffing my mouth so that I wouldn’t say anything stupid.  I hadn’t been on a date or anything close to it in at least two years.  I had no idea what to do or say considering I was sitting next to the guy who I was apparently destined to fall in love with.

We ate our pizza together silently and then I remembered I needed to take my pain killers and change the dressing on my burn.  “Hey, would you mind if I go inside and change my dressing?  I usually do it when I get home from work.”

“Not at all, come on in and I’ll show you to the kitchen.”

I looked at Krypto sprawled out on his back in my lap and chuckled, “I don’t want to disturb him.”

Josh took the puppy from me with a smile, “He’s a sound sleeper.  I’ll put him in his bed.”

I followed Josh into the house and as promised he put Krypto down in a very cushy doggie bed in the living room.  The puppy didn’t even flinch, just rolled over onto his back and kept sleeping. “No, really, I want that dog…” I said with a giggle.

Josh shot me a grin as he put his hand on the small of my back and motioned toward his kitchen, “I’ll let you visit any time you want.”

“That’ll work, I guess…” I teased.  I put my bag on the counter once we were in the kitchen and pulled out the supplies I needed for my hand.  “I swear, I’m a walking first aid kit lately.”  I picked up one of the Jello patches, “These things are freaking amazing though.”

He nodded, “Yes they are… I had a burn once and those things were the only thing that helped.”  He washed his hands at the sink then dried them with paper towel before reaching for a pair of rubber gloves from a box near the sink.  I smiled watching him and he eventually paused and looked at me, “What?”

I giggled, “I love how you totally went into doctor mode like there was no doubt you were going to be doing this for me.”

I caught a slight blush across his cheeks and he laughed, “Habit.  Sorry, you can…”

“No, it’s cool… you can do it.  I was just teasing you.  You’re way better at it than I am anyway.  I always end up wasting tape because it folds in on itself.”

I slid the supplies across the counter toward him and then held my hand out to him.  He smiled at me and then flipped back into doctor mode as he put the gloves on.  I watched as he very carefully unwrapped the gauze from my hand and then removed the Jello patch.  He looked at the burn and nodded, “Looks pretty good.”

I shook my head, “I think it looks horrible.  I call it The Ugly.  I’m not at all looking forward to seeing what the scar looks like.”

“Actually, I’d be surprised if you get much of a scar.  It’s going to look bad while it heals, but after a while you really should be okay.  The patches help to prevent scarring too.”

I sighed, “I hope so.”  He turned on the sink again and began washing the burned area gently.  I tried not to flinch but it still hurt to be touched too much.  “How long is it going to be hot like that?”

He studied my skin as he rinsed the soap off and then grabbed a paper towel to pat my hand dry.  “It really depends on the person, but I would say probably a week or two.”

I nodded and handed him the jar of medicated cream that was supposed to be put on my burn several times a day.  I didn’t think the cream helped at all considering it was supposed to be numbing the pain, but at least it was cool against the heat of my burned skin.  Once the cream was applied, Josh reached for the Jello patch and placed it on my hand covering the worst parts of my burn.  I sighed at the relief and he chuckled quietly.

I couldn’t help but watch him as he continued to work on my hand.  His fingers were so gentle but very sure of their movements; no hesitation.  I found myself watching his face as he wrapped my hand in new gauze and secured it with tape. When he was done he continued to hold my hand in his and his eyes met mine.  “All set.”

I noticed that the outer rim of his blue eyes was a dark, almost navy, blue.  His eyes were amazing.  “Th… Thank you,” I stuttered and busied myself with cleaning up the old dressing and wrappers.  I didn’t consider myself a shy person by any means but when faced with this man it was like I couldn’t function.  I had no idea how to act around him.  I silently told myself to calm the hell down and not act like an idiot which then made me giggle inappropriately while I searched for his trash can.

He watched me with a grin and opened up the cupboard below the sink for me before tossing his used rubber gloves in the trash, “Everything okay?”

I laughed even harder and nodded, “My mind works in very strange ways.  You’ll get used to it.  Random giggling over conversations in my head that you’re not a part of… stuff like that.”

He crossed his arms across his body and leaned back against the counter.  He had really great arms.  The light green tee shirt that he wore stretched across his biceps and made me wonder what the rest of his body looked like.  “So you’re planning to stick around?”

I shrugged, “I have to if I want to see the puppy…”

“Very true… he laughed.  “You just love me for my dog.”

I felt the smile on my face hesitate for a slight second as I thought that he had no idea how much I would eventually love him.  How much I already loved him.  “Mmm hmm… something like that.”

“Well, if you’re going to be hanging out with my kid I’m going to need to know a lot more about you.  Right now all I know is that you work at a coffee shop, you love Frenchies, have good taste in pizza toppings, and you apparently walk home from work barefoot.”

I chuckled and looked at my feet.  I’d totally forgotten that I didn’t have my shoes on.  “All good observations, Dr. Everhart.  Anything else you’ve figured out about me?”

He stepped closer to me, close enough that I had to look up at him.  He reached for my hand and traced my fingertips with his own sending shivers of awareness through my body.  “You have the softest hands I’ve ever felt.”

I blushed, yet again, but managed to keep looking up at him.  I nodded and tried to think of something clever to say but couldn’t think of anything.  All I could think of was him.  His beautiful eyes, his gentle hands, his crazy adorable dimples, and the fact that all I wanted to do was be with him and learn absolutely everything there was to know about him.  “Cocoa butter.”

“What?” he asked with a laugh.  He stayed close and I really, really wanted him to kiss me.

“My hands… they’re soft because of cocoa butter.”

“Ah…”

“Yeah…”

“And your lips?”

“I don’t use cocoa butter on my lips.  That’s gross.”

He laughed again, “I meant are they soft?”

I couldn’t keep my eyes off of his lips, “Uh, yeah?  I guess so.”  I shook my head trying to clear my thoughts but it didn’t help.  “I think that…” His lips were on mine before I could finish speaking, not like I had any idea what I was saying anyway.  His hands held my face and I found myself fisting his tee shirt in my hands as I held on him.

When he pulled back from the kiss, that smile was there again as he looked down at me, “Yep… pretty damn soft.”

I laughed nervously but kept hold on his shirt on either side of his waist.  I hadn’t been kissed in so long I’d forgotten how great it could be.  I looked up at him and shook my head, “I have no idea what to say right now.”

He laughed too, “That’s okay…”  He took my hand and led me back toward the back yard.  He didn’t release my hand until I’d sat back down.  I hadn’t wanted him to let go but it would’ve been weirdly awkward to hold hands across the pizza on the table.  If only the table wasn’t sitting in between our chairs.

I stared at the fire for a while and pulled my legs up into the chair with me, covering up my legs with the skirt of my dress.  After a moment I looked over to Josh who was watching me silently.  I smiled, “Okay.  Tell me something about you.  Something random.”

He tipped his head to the side slightly as he studied me then spoke quietly, “I’m having the weirdest déjà vu right now.  It’s like I already know you, but I’m just meeting you.  Like maybe I have been dreaming about you forever and you’re finally here.”  He looked down at his hands for a minute and shook his head, “That’s probably ridiculously creepy and I will totally understand if you get up and walk out of here.  But I can’t explain it.  It’s weird.”

I nodded and watched him until he looked at me.  “It’s okay, I know exactly what you mean.”

____

Our group is small this month, many of the girls are on deadlines for books and Jessica is working on a tiny human. 🙂

Kris | Bronwyn

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