Writing - the ups and downs

(FOR THOSE OF YOU WHO HAVE ASKED WHERE'S SWEET BABY JAMES - WELL HERE'S CHAPTER ONE. PLEASE LEAVE ANY/ALL COMMENTS BELOW. THE NOVEL IS FINISHED BUT STILL ROUGH. I'M GOING THROUGH ONE LAST TIME - I PROMISE. HUGS, BARB) “Dorene, if you don’t hold still, I’m gonna hog tie you to this chair!” Vada Faith whipped the pink salon chair around to face the big woman. She shook her comb under Dorene Moon's nose and the woman’s eyes grew wide as china plates. “I’m a nervous wreck! I’ve had customers up the wazoo this morning! Since Joy Ruth left to take Mama to the hospital for a test, I’ve had a dozen walk ins.” “Well, forgive me for living!” Doreen snapped her tabloid closed. Vada Faith swallowed hard and bowed her head in front of Dorene. “Whew!” She took a big breath and sighed. “I’m sorry, Dorrie. This day’s been a disaster. To start the morning off, the girls both needed panty hose for a school project. That meant a trip to CVS. I had to wake up James.” She smiled ...

                 Hoot and Marla: A short story                                                   BEAUTIFUL NIAGARA FALLS           Hoot and Marla are on their way to Niagara Falls. Hoot's sister, Betty Sue, has talked  Hoot into letting her come. She has brought along her boyfriend, Nick.  Hoot is driving the black Monte Carlo he bought last week for $800. Everyone is to chip in on the gas. "All-my-x's-live-in-Tex-as," Hoot sings along with the radio, "that's why I hang my hat in Tennessee!" He taps his hand on the steering wheel in time to the music.  Hoot loves George Strait. Not as much as he loves Elvis though. Hoot is an Elvis Presley look alike. He's never traded on it or anything. But he can sing and play the guitar, too. Marla nearly dies wh...

Through tangled brush We make our way  To the creek bed Cooling summer feet In crystal water. Butterflies  With gossamer wings Skitter up the bank, Fanning honeysuckle vines.               Suddenly, a head shoots From beneath a mossy rock, A crawdad staking claim to his territory - As if little girls pose a threat. Later, on a picnic cloth  They arrange their treasures, A speckled feather, an odd shaped Rock, a golden leaf. Unlike their “find,” my treasures Are images - images of two giggling girls  Arms outstretched  Ready to Embrace the world - Ready EVEN to walk on water.

This is a blog from five years ago. It's relevant to me today. Hope you enjoy! My friend Liz and her husband recently stayed two nights with us while on vacation in this area. I pulled a dozen or so books from my shelves to share with Liz - who is also an avid reader and wonderful writer. (She writes as Elizabeth Vollstadt and has various books and stories in print, including YOUNG PATRIOTS: Inspiring stories of the American Revolution- which she co authored with friend, Marcella Anderson. It's for children but I love this book!) THEN, Liz unloaded the books she'd brought to share with me. (She'd also brought a gift for me - a book, what else!) While she was here there were books stacked on the coffee table, the end tables, the dining room table, and the kitchen bar. A few books more than my usual stash covered every available surface. I'd catch her reading as I puttered in the kitchen, or at night we'd have tea and then she'd head off to be...

I'm recovering from acute bronchitis. All I've done the last few days is think about writing but not actually writing. My time has been filled with lots of Kleenex, coughing, breathing treatments, etc etc etc. Every day I feel a bit better. Come tomorrow I'll be well - I'm counting on it. In the meantime, while I'm not writing, I found this poem among my papers and thought I'd share  - it's a sentiment I wrote for our daughter Jill. Hope you enjoy. As always comments are very welcome. Hugs to all. Grandma’s Rocking Chair Grandma’s rocking chair - passed on to our daughter - headed for Wisconsin loaded in a U Haul, nestled between an antique secretary, and a refinished dresser - mirror long gone. Our three year old triplet grandchildren, faces pressed to the window of the van, wave good bye to me and grandpa in the driveway, their tears breaking our hearts. Our daughter, Jill, heavy with the child of her new husband, hums to the children And soon they ...

This is a post I wrote on March 11, 2011, I believe. I'm in the midst of rewriting my WIP, and decided it was time to review this article. Hope you find something here that will inspire you to rewrite or even to write. Let me know if anything speaks to you.  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 majo...

Yesterday we returned from my youngest daughter Jill's in Attleboro, MA. The car trip there and back was uneventful. An 11 1/2 hr trip. Daughter, Susan, and I had lots of fun both ways. We laughed, joked, reminisced about the good and bad times of our lives. There was more good than bad.