“I do not!”
“Oh, you sooo have a type.”
“Not really. I mean, Shawn was tall and muscular, and Tom was kind of scrawny, and Rick was blonde, and Joey had red hair. I could go on. All the guys I liked had completely different looks. I have no type.”
“Okay, maybe you don’t have a physical type, but think about the things they had in common.”
“Nooo, they were all different.”
“Ok, Sheila. How do you feel about smoking?”
“you know I hate it.”
“How many of them smoked.”
“Umm…. just cigarettes?” Read the rest of this entry
So, the anthology group I am a part of is getting everything together, and we’re releasing our collection of Fairy-tale/mythos inspired stories in October! We’re putting together a kickstarter for the project, which will be live on July 1st! I’m not going to nag you all about it too much, but it’d be cool if you checked it out! There will be information about all the authors and their stories on the kickstarter page.
Anyway, that combined with the fact that I’m reading a book called “the tipping point” are what inspired this next little snippet. The tipping point is all about the little things that cause epidemics, whether they be diseases, or social epidemics like fashion trends and tv shows. I realized that the terms “kickstarter” and “tipping point” have similar meanings. So here is what popped into my head on the drive to work this morning.
Janie slid up from home base, rushed back around third, ducked under the short stop and rounded second. She barely made it to first as the pitcher caught the ball from second base and then she sprinted with all her might to home plate, where the bat flew into her hands and she got ready to miss the ball three times like she always had before. but first, something happened.
The catcher called her a pathetic loser.
Janie relived that first home run backward, forward and sideways until she went to sleep that night. Then she dreamed about the game, only this time it happened in a castle surrounded by clouds.
Something was… off. The tea was supposed to have herbs and spices, but this just didn’t taste right. Coriander usually went with orange spice decently well. Maybe the problem was the sage. Yeah, there was way too much sage in this tea.
Brittnee sippped the tea, trying to pretend that it tasted good. After all, she was trying to heal things with Cindy. Complaining about her homemade concoctions was not the best way to mend fences.
“How’s Sally?” Brittnee asked. The surest way to make a mother forget a grudge is to ask about their little monsters. Read the rest of this entry
I don’t think I’ve posted anything with Sophie in it yet, but she’s a cool character. I’ve had several large stories in mind for her, but haven’t managed to write any of them yet. So for now, Sophie gets little snippets every couple of months when I miss her.
And Poor Sophie, I always seem to give her guy problems. I guess that’s life.
I feel like kind of an ass for flaking on you. Sorry!
Sophie looked at her phone and rolled her eyes. Matt was such an idiot. He was the one who had wanted to hang out on his last night in town. She didn’t really care one way or another, but he had said “I’ll let you know tonight’s plans” and then she had held off making other plans, only to be ignored and spend the night at home alone.
Well you kind of are, but that’s ok. Have a good trip back to school!
What? That wasn’t that harsh. Plus, he was the one that had said it. She had just agreed. If he was looking for her to say he wasn’t, that just wasn’t going to happen.
Guys are such idiots.
If only girls weren’t too.
“Why me!?!” the thin blonde woman lamented to the sky. “WHY?”
“Why not you?”
Jessica jumped and turned to look around. A few paces away, a man with hair the color of coffee stood, walking toward her.
“What?” Jessica sneered defensively. “you don’t even know what I’m talking about. I don’t deserve what is happening to me.”
“And someone else does?” Read the rest of this entry
The journal I used to edit for had a writing contest and the theme was “down the rabbit hole”. I was the judge, and I got to read some amazing stories written by some talented students.It got me thinking about Alice and Wonderland, and this is what transpired.
“You’re late, you’re late. for a very important DAAAAaaaate” Said the rabbit.
“No. I’m not!” Alice barked.
“Weeeellll Soooomebody’s defensive” sneered the rabbit. “Guess that answers the question of how far you and Keith have gone.”
“SHUT. UP” Alice locked herself in the bathroom, but the rabbit just slid under the door.
“You know, all you have to do is pee on a stick. It’s not that hard. You can even buy them at the dollar store.”
“I am NOT buying a dollar store pregnancy test. Besides, I am not late. I think I felt a cramp earlier. Stop nagging me. I have a few days before I need to worry.”
“Well I don’t know why you’re mad at me,” the rabbit tittered. “You’re the one who conjured me up.”
Alice stared at the rabbit until he vanished, sighed, and sunk to the floor, shaking.
So, I went to Portland (Oregon) last weekend, and of course, as any trip to Portland requires, I went to Powell’s. For those of you who don’t know, Powell’s is an amazing new and used bookstore. It takes up a whole city block and is three and a half stories high. The rooms are color-coded and organized by section. The blue room has literature and poetry. The Gold room is science fiction and mysteries. The Rose room has a lot of stuff, but most notably children’s literature. The purple room has a lot of non-fiction- race and gender studies. Travel is in the orange room. Graphic novels are in the room with the cafe (brown).
I can’t go to Powell’s without buying too many books. I think once I went there and only bought one or two. Not this time though. My Powell’s and Portland withdrawal led me to purchase a whole stack even though I already own many books I have yet to read. Guess I just need to dedicate more time to reading.
Here’s the list of books I bought, in case you’re interested Read the rest of this entry
Yes I’m late; I’m very late. but it’s not important, nor a date. This running behind situation I’m in will have no greater bearing on my life or well-being than if I was early, which is usually the case.
If I had left when I planned, right now I’d be sitting, staring at my phone, trying not to nap, wondering if it was too early to go inside.
But as it is, I will walk in; a few people will ask why I’m late; most won’t notice.
And life will go on. As I look back on this day, I will not remember I was late, just like I would not remember if I was early or on time.
So I’m just going to breathe the stress out and keep driving.
Because really, that’s all I can do.
She had eliminated three. Only 8 suitors remained.
When they had first been introduced to her, she found herself thinking “Is this it? This is the best selection the country has to offer?”
But when it came time to decide who would pass to the next round, she realized that she saw merit in more than a few.
In fact, only three of them had really been severely lacking in desirable qualities.
Maybe this would be harder than she thought.
So, I’m a bit behind on this 30 day challenge thing. I guess I’ll just keep trucking and if it takes me 47 days, then so be it. Here’s Day Number 5. I wanted to edit it to make it more “show”, less “tell”, but this draft has been open for three days so I decided to just post it. So here ya go.
A ship is meant to soar across the raging sea, to battle wind and wave and arrive at its destination, perhaps a little harrowed, but still able to fulfill its duty.
This ship, though, would never see an ocean. The craftsman had spent weeks, drawing plans, carving stone, polishing the ship, adding gold accents. Now he had a beautiful ship, destined to a life of identity crisis. Read the rest of this entry