Skip to main content
Honestly the snow is getting ridiculous. Piled everywhere - more drifting. Our house is in the center of a snow globe - and we're not even in Geauga County. This winter I've felt as though I'm wearing cement shoes - and creating stories and characters has been anything but easy. Each step is accompanied by much groaning and pain. My characters are as frozen as the pond on the hill behind our house. Yesterday I managed to get a page finished and then I found myself pulled to the dining room where daughter Susan was going through a box of old pictures - while the grandkids watched Stagecoach (John Wayne) with Papa. How can you not get dragged into looking at pictures of yourself wearing a hat the size of Illinois - Easter 1965.
And pictures of a handsome husband in his Navy uniform on Midway Island in the late 50's. Are those gooney birds at his feet??? Was he good looking or what...And then the faded photos of myself astride beautiful Pearl readying myself to ride out into the wild blue yonder....actually riding down the country road of Cross Creek with soon to be hubby beside me. The pictures don't show the terror in my heart as the horse shot out of the barnyard and down the road. But I quickly learned what the reins were for.
Finally I dragged myself back to the office and sat down to write but the sound of gun shots, wild screaming, and the roar of a racing stagecoach ended that session.
Where can I find a quiet corner in this small ranch house???


  1. Good morning! You were up early, and writing before 7am...I took a few minutes to update mine as well, with prodding from my friend Denise!! She is trying to follow my blog, but it's kind of hard when it only gets updated every 3 months! I was thinking that maybe the distracting gun shots were from Dad shooting at the birds out back! Funny story. I'm thinking that if you can't find a quiet corner at your place, then there is absolutely NO hope for me finding one at mine! Love you!

  2. Thanks so much for helping me set up the blog page. Lots of work but looks great.
    I'm not over the blackbird shooting. Boy you can take a boy out of the country but you can't take the country out of the boy. I'm making soup and going to work on my story. love the time on the blog was wrong - i was not up early....

  3. the time on this is ALL screwed up because I'd never be up at 7 am and if I was up I would not be blogging but hanging over a ten cup size of coffee!

  4. I love looking through old pictures! They could inspire stories. In my writing, I incorporate family names and happenings. I've written a middle grade story that takes place in the 1960s in rural WV, and I guess you could say that the story is what I wish would have happened to me when I was growing up.

  5. Janet,
    I agree - old pics are the best. In fact, I'm getting ready to frame some small black and white ones in plain black frames with white mats for the wall. There's something to be said for old "age." I'd love to read your story if you want to send it to me.Do you have it posted on your blog???


Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

The Dreaded School Pictures

This year when my children brought home their school pictures, I cringed. These kids can leave home looking cherubic, but the minute they pose for that school photographer they are transposed into unrecognizable beings. My middle daughter brought home pictures bearing her name and room number that couldn't have been my offspring. Nor a distant relative.
I had worked for hours on this child. Her hair was parted in the middle and drawn into a cute little ponytail over each ear. Even though she is at an awkward age, she looked adorable when she went out that door. Her missing front teeth only added to her charm. The kid in the picture has her mouth open wide displaying ugly dark gaps. Her one visible ponytail is lopsided, her part is uneven, and her bangs look like they were cut with pinking shears. I know this isn't my child because I always give my children a good haircut before they have their pictures taken. The only thing vaguely familiar is the sweater the child has on. My dau…

My Favorite Essay by Gladys Taber


From an essay by Gladys Taber
Family Circle  - September 1982

    I sat in the sun the other day while the dogs dug up the lawn and thought about work. I wasn’t working. I was just thinking about it. I have found that when I cannot possibly accomplish everything I am supposed to and feel an unbearable pressure---as all homemakers must---if I just stop, life goes better.
    I get a good book, make some spiced tea and sit down on my own corner of the sofa or in my favorite lawn chair. I let life settle in around me, and that is the only way I can express it. After 20 minutes or half an hour, I go back to the mechanics of living.  AND at days end I am just as far along as if I had not stopped to think.

Another of her thoughts: time for thinking is a gift one can give only to one’s self.

Hope you enjoy reading this as much as I have over the years. When I've had it with my life some days -  I have only to sit down with a glass of sweet tea and think of this essay an…

Rewriting/ Quotes by other writers

Sometimes beginning writers say they don't believe in rewriting because they're afraid they'll "lose the spontaneity" of the first draft. This is naive; rewriting means making the work better by adding, deleting, and revising; what worked well in the first draft stays--that's the effective spontaneity. Most professional writers know the heady sense of control that comes with the revision process--this is where one knows one has mastery of the writing craft. Note the following comments. Not sure who wrote the above intro but the quotes below are worthy of sharing. Enjoy!

"It is no sign of weakness or defeat that your manuscript ends up in need of major surgery. This is common in all writing and among the best of writers."
- E. B. White

"I don't write easily or rapidly. My first draft usually has only a few elements worth keeping. I have to find what those are and build from them and throw out what doesn't work, or what simply is not aliv…