Father’s Day – 2019

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Happy Father’s Day to all the wonderful dads out there!

That special mix of gentle yet stern is hard to accomplish. But you do it. Every day.

You, the good dad, the hard-working dad, the caring dad, show your children you care.

Every time you pick them up and brush them off after a fall.
Read a bedtime story.
Tell a corny joke.
Or mediate an argument.

Don’t let those little munchkins fool you, they know it’s because you care.

They even know you make them use their manners, pick up their toys, and go to bed at a reasonable time because you care.

Though they probably won’t admit that until they have kids of their own.

Enjoy your day!

Have you ever?

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Have you ever watched a new show because it sounded like a show you really love, only to find it’s a poorly constructed derivative of said show?

Have you ever had a remake butcher your childhood memories and rip them to shreds?

Have you ever been disappointed when a movie trailer shows ALL the good bits?

Yeah, me too.

I hate that!

But what I hate most of all is when a show or a movie tries so hard to appeal to everyone, that it appeals to no one.

Find your audience, people. Everyone isn’t going to like your show no matter how hard you try!

And let’s stick to original content already! Enough of the remakes!

True Story novel – end excerpt

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Okay, so maybe I have more to write before I actually reach the end. About fifteen pages more, to be exact.

But today I couldn’t help myself. After I finished the pages I intended to adapt I skipped ahead and worked on the very last page.

I figured it wouldn’t hurt since endings are important, just like beginnings. They need to leave the right impression, so need to have a lot of time spent on them. And since it doesn’t give anything away…

^ ^ ^

As the soft, yellow rose petals float slowly to the ground they morph into flakes of falling snow.

But this isn’t just any snow. It’s the snow every child hopes for on Christmas morning. The snow that hides chores left undone, covers toys not put away, and transforms the world into a magical land perfect for snowball fights and an entire village of snow people.

“History,” Vanessa’s voice shatters the calm.

A bright white light obscures everything as a train blasts out of a tunnel, followed by the blare of a train whistle. Any semblance of calm is now gone.

“Set in stone,” Vanessa continues, all the world as if she’s telling a story to one of her children. The train chugs purposefully on a long, straight track.

“Boring. Unchangeable.”

Without warning the train whips around a sharp curve and out of sight.

“You can believe that if you want to—”

In the distance the train reappears and begins a long journey over a high bridge. The kind of bridge that turns dreams into nightmares in the squeamish and faint of heart.

“—But that’s not the real story.”

As the last echo of Vanessa’s voice fades, the train completes its journey over the bridge and disappears into a dense forest. Only its smoke remains visible as it clears the trees and winds its way through the lonely countryside.

Far away, so far away it’s more a memory than an actual sound, a train whistle blows.

Scaredy-cat!

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Guest Post by Pepper Curious: 

When I took my person for a walk this morning I ran into that cat. Or at least I tried to.

That cat will never come over when I call, but always hides behind a fence. He is such a scaredy cat.

I probably could have caught him before he jumped over the fence but I had my person with me and I couldn’t leave her alone.

You see my person is a silly human who thinks cats are cute. She doesn’t realize that they are evil creatures just waiting for the opportunity to pounce.

I shiver when I think what would happen if my person ever met that cat and I wasn’t around to protect her. Ugh!

Snowpocalypse 2019

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7 am. Awoke to a winter wonderland.

Frankly, by 3:30 in the afternoon I’m ready for it all to melt. Doesn’t look all that likely.

Today is the 12th. Snowpocalypse continues.

We tried to drive yesterday but the car got stuck in the snow, and last night we lost power for several hours.

The lost power bit was actually kinda fun. We lit a few candles, listened to a windup radio, drank wine, and talked. It was a reminder that technology gives us a lot, but it often takes away even more. Like those moments when you need to entertain yourself.

I’d post another pic but everything looks just the same.

True Story novel excerpt

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I’ve rewritten these same paragraphs multiple times already. Hopefully this time I have them right!

# # #

Something was wrong. Very wrong.

The Rossi family was still the Rossi family, sure enough, but…different. Everything was different.

It was as if the world was a giant snow globe that had been given it a good shake, then left on a tilted shelf to settle. Same snow globe, but when the flakes settled they landed all wonky. Nothing looked quite right.

Take for example the Rossi living room, where the Rossi family had gathered. Instead of being the twenty-first century living room of a normal family, it looked oddly appropriate to be used for a movie set in the 1920s. No television, no vacuum, no central heating. Just an oversized radio, a broom, and a woodstove for cold days.

Most odd of all—for a family of students at least—was the complete and utter lack of computers and cell phones. It was as if those gadgets had never been invented.

# # #

Who am I kidding? I’m sure I’ll rewrite these paragraphs several more times before I’m satisfied enough to leave them alone.

But not today! Today I need to move on to the rest of the story.

Grocery store snobbery

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We’re all the same at the grocery store, aren’t we? I always thought so, until…

I gathered a week’s worth of groceries in my shopping cart and headed for the only line that was open in my neighborhood store. Oh, sure, there was the 10-items-or-less line off to my left, but my cart was full.

A tall woman in her fifties was in line ahead of me, and one other person was ahead of her. The cashier appeared to know what he was doing so the wait wouldn’t be too awfully long. When I got home I could-

“You can go to that line,” the tall woman in front of me said, interrupting my thought. I looked to the left where she pointed but could only see the crowded 10-items-or-less line.

“I’m fine here, thank you,” I said.

I got out my list to double-check I hadn’t forgotten any items. Out of the corner of my eye I could see the woman studying me, so I did what any normal human would do. I looked up at her.

“You should move to that line,” she said firmly, again pointing to the 10-items-or-less line.
“Can’t,” I replied, pointing to my cart. “I have too many items.”
“Do it anyway,” she insisted, “it’ll be fine. I know the manager.”
“I wouldn’t be comfortable.”
“You should go!”
“I’m staying here. You go if you want.”

The tall woman turned away from me for several seconds, moved her cart a few inches further in line, then, her voice dripping with disgust and frustration, turned back to me to say, “This line is for housewives only!”

From that moment on her back was a wall, straight and stiff. But unlike most walls this one radiated a deep and disturbing disapproval.

I have no clue who or what she thought I was, except that she had decided it was her responsibility to let me know how unwelcome I was.

People can be very strange, can’t they?